VISITED BY LORD BURLEIGH. 73 he had not seen since the time of Gilpin's sermon being preached before king Edward's court. The reception and entertainment of this distinguished guest and his retinue were such, that Burleigh often remarked afterwards, that "he could hardly have expected more at Lambeth." He was at once pleased and surprised at this northern clergyman's manner of living. The house was crowded by persons of all kinds, gentlemen, scholars, workmen, farmers, and poor people; yet all was propriety and order: each, on his arrival, was conducted to a suitable apartment, and they were entertained, instructed, or relieved, according as they came for either of those purposes. The statesman contemplated the scene with unmingled feelings of satisfaction, and admired the simplicity of manner, the calm and orderly repose, and the unbounded liberality which prevailed in this quiet retreat. Piety towards God, and charity towards men, diffused such an air of serenity and happiness all around, that he would fain have prolonged his visit to that favoured dwelling. But public affairs made it necessary for him to proceed, and, embracing his respected friend with the warmth of sincere regard, he assured him that much as he had heard of his worth and virtues, the half had not been told him: "If," added he, "I can ever be of service to you at court or elsewhere, apply to me with unreserved freedom, and you may depend upon my zealous exertions in your behalf.” He then bade Mr. Gilpin farewell; and when he arrived at Rainton-hill, which rises about a mile from Houghton, he turned his horse to take a parting look at the spot which he had visited with so much delight, and exclaimed, "There is the enjoyment of life indeed! Who can blame that man for not accepting a bishopric? What could make him greater, or happier, or more useful to mankind?" CHAPTER VII. HIS OLD AGE, DEATH, AND CHARACTER. Say not it dies, that glory, 'Tis caught, unquenched on high; Those saint-like brows, so hoary, Shall wear it in the sky. No smile is like the smile of death, When all good musings past Rise wafted with the passing breath,- Christian Year. THE burden of the labours which Mr. Gilpin had undertaken as a pastor in the church of Christ, was more than he was able to bear without undermining the strength of his constitution. He spoke of himself, in his letters, as being "much charged with business, or rather overcharged.”—“I am first greatly burdened," he says on one occasion, "about seeing the lands made sure to the school; which are not so yet, and are in great danger to be lost, if God should call me afore they are assured. Moreover, I have assigned to preach twelve sermons at other parishes besides my own; and likewise am earnestly looked for at a number of parishes in Northumberland, more than I can visit. Besides, I am continually encumbered with many guests and acquaintance, whom I may not well refuse. And often am I called upon by many of my parishioners to set them at one when they cannot agree. And every day I am sore charged and troubled with many servants and workfolks, which is no small trouble to be; for the buildings and reparations in this wide house will never have an end." And although this letter relates to some one particular period, yet it may be considered as giving a correct idea of the continual demands upon his time and his thoughts. "To sustain all these travels and troubles," he says, "I have a very weak body, subject to many diseases; by the monitions whereof, I am DECAY OF STRENGTH. 75 daily warned to remember death. My great grief of all is that my memory is quite decayed; my sight faileth; my hearing faileth; with other ailments, more than I can well express." As he thus advanced in years and decreased in strength, he found it necessary to withdraw from the extensive labours in which he had engaged during the fulness of his vigour, and to confine himself to such pastoral duties as he could discharge in the neighbourhood of his home. His school, which was situated near his house, engaged his particular attention. He watched its progress, and promoted its usefulness by his personal superintendence. He altered and amended its statutes so as to guard, as much as possible, against the abuse of his charity. He induced his neighbours to provide the means of making some requisite additions to its endowment, which it was beyond his power to contribute. And he applied to his friend the earl of Bedford, to obtain for it a charter; in reference to which he received the following letter :— After my very hearty commendations, hoping in God you are in good health, who, as He hath well begun in you, so may He keep and continue you a good member in his church, I have moved the queen's majesty for your school; and afterwards the bill was delivered to Mr. Secretary Walsingham, a very good and godly gentleman, who procured the same to be signed, as I think you have before this heard by your brother. Assuredly you did very well and honestly therein, and have deserved great commendations. A thing most necessary in those parts is this of all other, for the well-bringing up of youth, and training them in learning and goodness. In any thing that I may stand you in stead, I pray you be bold to use me, whom you may assure yourself to remain ready to do you any good that I can. So for this time I commend you to God. Your assured friend, Russell Place, March 26, 1571. F. BEDFORD. That such a man as Bernard Gilpin should have been permitted to enter the vale of years without the poisoned arrows of calumny aggravating the sorrows of age, would be but a natural supposition. Yet such exemption was not conceded to him. It appears, from one of his letters, that he was accused of having spoken and preached against the marriage of the clergy. In answer to this charge, he declared that always, "as opportunity served, he had spoken in defence of priests' marriage." The following passage beautifully exhibits the tenor of his thoughts, and contains salutary advice to the propagators of uncharitable rumours. You say I am called hypocrite; I know I am so [called] of divers. How they will answer God's law therein, I leave to their own conscience. But verily, for my own part I can thank them for when I hear it, I trust in God I gain not a little thereby in studying clearly to subdue that vice; which I have strived against ever since I studied the Holy Scriptures. And I suppose very few, or no preachers in England, have preached oftener against that vice than I; and that, as I trust, with a clearer conscience. But to make an end at this time, (because this bearer can show you what small time I have, being sore overcharged with manifold studies and businesses,) it is time, good Mr. Wren, both for you and me (age and sundry diseases, messengers of death, giving us warning), more deeply to ripe our own consciences, and more diligently to search our own faults, and to leave off from curious hearkening and espying of other men's; especially when it breedeth contention, and can in no wise edify. I pray you read St. James, the latter part of the third chapter, and there learn from whence cometh contentious wisdom. And this I beseech you remember, that it is not long since God did most mercifully visit you with great sickness. At that time, I doubt not but you lamented sore your duty forgotten in your life past; and for the time to come, if God would restore you to your health, I trust you promised a godly repentance and reformation of life. you have somewhat forgotten that godly bring it again; and, being had, keep it. St. James saith, God will hear you, whom I beseech evermore to have you in his blessed keeping. Good Mr. Wren, if mind, pray to God to Pray in faith, and, Your loving friend to his power, PROSPECT OF DEATH. 77 His old adversary, chancellor Barnes, also gave him some trouble; but he bore all that befell him with fortitude, and found for himself in the gospel that comfort and support which he knew so well how to communicate to others in their trials and sorrows. Mr. Gilpin's death was hastened by an accident which happened to him at Durham. As he was crossing the market-place, an ox ran at him, and knocked him down with so much violence, that death was expected to be the immediate consequence of his fall. He was for a long time seriously ill, and although he was afterwards able to resume some of his pastoral labours, he never recovered even that small share of health which he had before, and continued lame to the end of his days. But such afflictions could not break his spirits, for he had long learned to account every dispensation of sorrow as being expressly designed to remind us of some neglected duty; he therefore received the chastening of the Lord with thankfulness, rather than repining, and proceeded to use it for its intended purpose, by carefully examining his ways. About the beginning of February, in the year 1583, he judged, from the great decay of his strength, that his hour was at hand; and soon after he was unable to leave his chamber. At this time he spoke of his approaching death with that settled composure which might be expected in one who had been preparing for it all his days. When he seemed to be just on the confines of eternity, he called together his friends, acquaintances, and household, and having been raised in his bed, addressed to them a word of solemn and affectionate admonition. He first sent for the poor, and beckoning them to his bedside, told them that he was bidding a last farewell to the world; that he hoped that at the great day of account they would be witnesses that he had endeavoured to execute his ministry faithfully among them, by teaching them publicly, and from house to house; and he prayed God to have them in remembrance after his departure. He desired them |