zeal would expose him to danger, labored, though ineffectually, to repress it. The examples found in Scripture of holy men, who boldly denounced vice in the face of still greater perils, wrought powerfully on his mind: and he would have deemed it criminal to accept an employment, especially if he derived emolument from it, the duties of which he did not faithfully discharge.

At length the clergy were so exasperated by his reproofs, that they raised a great clamor against him, as "an enemy of the church and clergy, a broacher of new and dangerous doctrines," &c. Some alleged that all who had been known to preach against pluralities and non-residence had, in no long time, turned out here. tics; while others chiefly blamed him for preaching repentance and salvation by Christ, and not preaching, as they did, about transubstantiation, purgatory, holy water, &c. &c. A formal accusation was, after no long time, preferred against him to the bishop, who, being naturally disposed to judge favorably of his conduct, on hearing the evidence, pronounced him inp. cent of the heresy with which he had been charged.

This failure, however did not damp the zeal of his persecutors, who continued to harass him with such incessant opposition, and so to misrepresent and blacken every part of his conduct, that he found himself under the necessity of proposing to the bishop to resign either his arch. deaconry or his parish, on the ground that, though he was will ing to perform the duties of one of the offices, he was incompe

tent to both. The bishop refused to separate them. "The income of the archdeaconry," he said, "without the parish, is not an adequate support. I found them united, and mean to leave them so." On this, Gilpin appears to have resigned both, and to have lived for a short time with the bishop as his chaplain. The only trouble he seems to have experienced in this situation, arose from the eagerness with which his brother chaplains, and the neighboring clergy, when they met him at the bishop's table, sought to engage him in religious controversy. The valuable rectory of Houghton-leSpring, which was in the gift of the bishop, soon fell vacant, and was bestowed upon him.

Houghton afforded a sphere of action exactly suited to the turn of Gilpin's mind. It was very extensive, comprising no less than fourteen villages; and this circumstance had probably contributed to the full growth of that gross ignorance and superstition which he had here to encounter. The religion he found here was nothing more than the worst corruptions of popery. Searcely a vestige of true religion was to be seen. Mr. Gilpin was deeply grieved to behold the state of his people. But he encouraged himself in his God, and girded himself for his arduous undertaking in the strength of divine grace. He earnestly implored the aid of the great Head of the Church, in gathering in that part of the flock which was committed to his care; and his prayer was answered in due time. Even from the first, the people were attracted in crowds by his earnestness,

and listened to him with attention for they saw at once that there existed some grand points of difference between him and those ministers who had formerly been placed over them.

The value of the living of Houghton was about 400l. per annum, a large sum in those days; the whole of which Mr. Gilpin resolved should be employed in works of charity, and in the exercise of hospitality. With this view he improved and enlarged the parsonage-house, till it became a suitable habitation for one of his hospitable turn. It was beautifully situat. ed, and, in size, it more resembled the palace of a bishop than the dwelling of a rector.

He had scarcely been fixed at Houghton, when the bishop of fered him a prebendal stall in the cathedral of Durham, which had become vacant, pressing him to accept it, on the ground that, as it was quite a sinecure, he could have no pretence for declining it. Gilpin, however, begged that the bishop would be. stow this preferment on some one who stood more in need of it than he did; as for himself, he had already received more from his lordship's bounty than he feared he could give a good account of.

As Mr. Gilpin had resigned the archdeaconry, by his conduct in which office it was that he had chiefly excited the enmity of the neighboring clergy, and as he now confined himself chiefly to the concerns of his extensive parish, it might have been hoped that they would have allowed him to proceed in his course without molestation. Their malice, however, still pursued him.

They could not be blind to the marked difference between his life and theirs. His indefatigable attention to his pastoral duties, his laboriousness in the work of the ministry, and his ever-wakeful solicitude for the spiritual interests of his parishioners, afforded a reproof, which could not be misunderstood, of their negli gence, indifference, and sloth. Every engine, therefore, was set to work, in order to collect materials for a charge against him; and though he behaved as cautiously as he thought consistent with his duty to the souls of his flock-more cautiously indeed than his conscience, in after life, could approve-yet such was the unwearied industry and vigi. lance of his enemies, that a long list of charges was, in a short time, collected, and he was again formally accused before the bishop, by whom, however, he was again acquitted. The bishop, nevertheless, was so much displeased with his nephew, for what he deemed his imprudence unwarrantable obstinacy, and was so apprehensive of danger to himself, from continuing to countenance his rash proceedings, that he thought it right to withdraw from him those external marks of his favor which he had before enjoyed. He even blotted him out of his will. this Mr. Gilpin remarked, that, considering the great obligations he owed to the bishop, he was truly sorry to perceive that he had offended him. He would

and

On

have given up any thing to satisfy him, except his conscience. As for the bishop's property, he was glad not to have the bur then of it,

Though Mr. Gilpin's enemies had thus failed a second time with the bishop, they resolved to persevere in their attempts against him. They therefore accused him before Bonner, the bishop of London. Bonner was a man suited to their purpose. His violence formed a direct contrast to the moderation of bishop Tunstal. He commended their zeal, and assured them that the here. tic should not go unpunished. An account of this threat reached Mr. Gilpin in time for him to effect his escape, a course to which he was strongly urged by his friends; but he was deaf to all their importunities: he had long prepared his mind to suffer for the sake of the gospel; it would be denying the faith of Christ, to shrink from giving his testimony when called to it; his great ambition was to advance the interests of religion; and if, to this end, his death were necessary, he should rejoice to die. He then caused a long gar, ment to be provided for him, in which he might go decently to the stake, should it be the will of God that he should suffer. In a few days, persons arrived with authority to apprehend and convey him to London, to whom he willing surrendered himself.

In the course of his journey to town he broke his leg; and this accident necessarily prevent ed his proceeding for some time. One of the maxims which Mr. Gilpin was used frequently to repeat was, "that all events are intended by Providence for our good." His keepers took occasion now to taunt him with this remark, asking him, whether he thought his present misfortune was intended for his good. To

this he meekly replied, "that he had no doubt it was." And so indeed it proved; for, before his leg was in a condition to admit of his travelling, news arrived of the death of queen Mary, and he was soon after set at liberty. Some have affected to doubt the truth of this relation, at least as far as relates to the accident which is said to have befallen him. Thus much, however, is undeniable; that the intelligence of the queen's death met him as he was on the way to London, and put an end to his confinement and persecution; and that he returned to Houghton, where he was met by crowds of people, loudly expressing their joy, and blessing God for his deliverance.

Mr. Gilpin now enjoyed that full liberty to pursue his benev, olent plans for which he had long prayed. His uncle, the bishop, now suffered in his turn; he was ordered up to London, and, refusing to take the oath of supremacy, he was sent to the Tower. His confinement, however, was not of long duration. He was received by archbishop Parker into the palace at Lambeth, and there spent, in a very comfortable and tranquil manner the short residue of his long life.

The earl of Bedford was always much attached to Mr. Gilpin ; and when many of the popish bishops were deprived of their sees, recommended him to fill one of the vacancies. He was accordingly nominated to the bishopric of Carlisle. He no sooner heard of the honor which it was in. tended to confer on him, than he wrote to the earl of Bedford, expressing his gratitude to his lordship and the queen; but de

clining to accept their kindness, on the ground that he was wholly unequal to the station. The earl employed Dr. Sandys, the bishop of Worcester, to overcome Mr. Gilpin's scruples. But notwithstanding the arguments and urgent intreaties of Dr. Sandys, aided by a solemn appeal to Mr. Gilpin's conscience, Mr. Gilpin maintained his first determination; and the bishopric was at length given to Dr. Best.

In the following year the provostship of Queen's college, Oxford, was offered to Mr. Gil. pin; but he likewise refused to accept this preferment. The benefice he already possessed gratified his utmost desire of worldly wealth, and afforded him a sufficiently extensive sphere for his benevolent labors.

Mr. Gilpin was early aware that the grand impediments to the progress of the Reformation, which had been so happily begun, were the prevailing ignorance and superstition. With

these evils even the universities were deeply infected, so that the very channels through which knowledge might be expected to flow were choked up. The attention of the queen and her min. isters was drawn to the subject, and they took an active part in endeavoring to promote the interests of science. In this good work they were zealously aided by Mr. Gilpin. Although his hospitality, which was of the most generous and expansive kind, made a large demand on his income, and his charities exhausted a still larger portion of it, he formed a design for build. ing and endowing a grammarschool, which his exact econo

my enabled him to complete. The school flourished greatly under his care: the masters were the ablest he could procure; and he himself exercised a constant inspection over it, quickening application by suitable encouragements, and distinguishing the scholars who were most diligent, by calling them his own, and instructing them frequently himself. Often, when he met a poor boy on the road, he would make trial of his capacity, and, if satisfied with it, would provide for his education. From school, he sent several to the universities; maintaining them there at his own expense, and continuing to watch over their conduct. He regularly corresponded with them, and required from them an account of their studies. deed, so anxious was he respecting them, knowing the tempta. tions to which their age and situation exposed them, that he made occasional journeys to the universities, in order to inspect their proceedings. Nor was his care fruitless. Few of his schol. ars turned out ill, and many of them became great ornaments to the church, and exemplary instances of piety.

In

While Mr. Gilpin was employed in founding his school, the popish party in the north, headed by the earls of Westmorland and Northumberland, broke out into open rebellion. They appeared in arms, display. ing in their banners a chalice, and the five wounds of Christ, and brandishing a cross before them. They took Durham, and laid waste the adjoining country, ravaging as far as Houghton. But the approach of the earl of Sussex with a numerous army so

terrified the insurgents, that they mutinied and dispersed. Many were taken, and a commission was issued to try them. On this occasion, the humane interposition of Mr. Gilpin proved very beneficial. He represent ed to the judge, that the people were well affected, but, being extremely ignorant, had been misled by designing men, who made them believe that they were taking up arms for the Queen: This representation served greatly to abate the severity which the judge seemed at first disposed to exercise towards the insurgents.

During the period of seventeen years, viz. from 1559 to1576, that Dr. Pilkington was bishop of Durham, Mr. Gilpin enjoyed a state of comparative tranquillity and comfort. The bishop was a learned and pious man, remarkable for his moderation, and anxious, above all things else, to promote the interests of religion in his diocese. Between him and Mr. Gilpin there soon arose a very intimate friendship. They were intent on pursuing the same objects, and often met, sometimes at the bishop's palace, and sometimes at Houghton, to consider and determine their pious plans. Dr. Pilkington was succeeded in the bishopric by Dr. Barnes, with whom Mr. Gil. pin did not live on the same footing of friendly intercourse. The bishop appointed his brother, who was a man of bad character, licentious, violent, and tyrannical, to be chancellor of the diocese. Between him and Mr. Gilpin there was a perpetual opposition, the latter endeavoring to redress the injuries done by the venality and other irregular

ities of the former; and though he behaved to him always with mildness, yet proving a constant check on his unjust and oppressive conduct.

The bishop who was a wellmeaning, but weak and irresolute man, and very unwilling to believe any thing which was told him to the disadvantage of his brother, seems not to have re. garded Mr. Gilpin with much cordiality. This was very visi ble on one occasion. He received a message from the bishop, appointing him to preach a visitation sermon on the following Sunday. He was then about to set off to fulfil some itinerating engagements which he had made in Readsdale and Tindale. He informed the bishop of the circumstance, and begged that he would excuse him from complying with his wish. The bishop returned no answer; and Gilpin, concluding that he was satisfied, proceeded on his jour. ney. When he came home, he found, to his surprise, that he had been suspended. A few days afterwards, be received an order to meet the bishop. He went, and found many of the clergy assembled. The bishop ordered him to preach that day before them. Mr. Gilpin earnestly requested to be excused: he had come wholly unprepared to preach. But the bishop would take no excuse, and commanded him, on his canonical obedience, to go into the pulpit. fore went up, and though he observed several taking notes, he proceeded in his sermon without hesitation. Towards the close of it, he addressed the bishop personally on the flagrant abuses in his diocese, telling him that

He there.