BERNARD, rector of Houghton, distinguished by his extraordinary piety and hospitality, was descended from an ancient and honourable family in Westmoreland, and born in 1517. As he was bred in the Catholic religion, so he for some time defended it against the reformers, and at Oxford held a disputation with Hooper, afterward bishop of Worcester and a martyr for the Protestant faith; but was staggered in another disputation with Peter Martyr, and began seriously to examine the contested points by the best authorities. Thus, being presented to the vicarage of Norton in the diocese of Durham, he soon resigned it, and went abroad to consult eminent professors on both sides; and after three years absence returned a little before the death of Queen Mary, satisfied in the general doctrines of the reformation. He was kindly received by his uncle Dr Tonfall, bishop of Durham; who soon after gave him the archdeaconry of Durham, to which the rectory of Effington was annexed. When repairing to his parish, though the persecution was then at its height, he boldly preached against the vices, errors, and corruptions of the times, especially in the clergy, on which a charge consisting of 13 articles was drawn up against him, and presented in form to the bishop. But Dr Tonfall found a method of diffusing the cause in such a manner as to protect his nephew, without endangering himself, and soon after presented him to the rich living of Houghton le Spring. He was a second time acceded to the bishop, and again protected; when his enemies, enraged at this second defeat, laid their complaint before Dr Bonner, bishop of London; who immediately gave orders to apprehend him. Upon which Mr Gilpin bravely prepared for martyrdom; and ordering his house steward to provide him a long garment that he might make a decent appearance at the stake, set out for London. Luckily, however, he broke his leg on the journey; which protracted his arrival until the news of the queen's death freed him from all further apprehensions. Being immediately set at liberty, he returned to Houghton, where he was received by his parishioners with the sincerest joy.

Upon the deprivation of the Popish bishops, he was offered the see of Carlisle, which he declined; and confining his attention to his rectory, discharged all the duties of his function in the most exemplary manner. To the greatest humanity and courtesy, he added an unwearied application to the instruction of those under his care. He was not satisfied with the advice he gave in public, but used to instruct in private; and brought his parishioners to come to him with their doubts and difficulties. He had a most engaging manner towards those whom he thought well disposed; nay, his very reproof was so conducted, that it seldom gave offence; the becoming gentleness with which it was urged made it always appear the effect of friendship. Thus, with unceasing affluity, did he employ himself in admonishing the vicious, and engaging the well-intentioned; by which means, in a few years, he made a greater change in his neighbourhood than could well have been imagined. A remarkable instance, what reformation a single man may effect, when he hath it earnestly at heart!

But his hopes were not so much in the present generation, as in the succeeding. It was an easier talk, he found, to prevent vice, than to correct it; to form the young to virtue, than to amend the bad habits of the old. He employed much of his time, therefore, in endeavouring to improve the minds of the younger part of his parish; suffering none to grow up in an ignorance of their duty; but preluding it as the wildest part to mix religion with their labour, and amidst the cares of this life to have a constant eye upon the next. He attended to every thing which might be of service to his parishioners. He was very zealous in preventing all law suits among them. His hall is said to have been often thronged with people, who came to him about their differences. He was not indeed much acquainted with law; but he could decide equitably, and that satisfied: nor could his sovereign's commission have given him more weight than his own character gave him.

His hospitable manner of living was the admiration of the whole country. He spent in his family every fortnight 40 bushels of corn, 20 bushels of malt, and a whole ox; besides a proportionable quantity of other kinds of provision. Strangers and travellers found a cheerful reception. All were welcome that came; and even their beasts had so much care taken of them, that it was humorously said, "If a horse was turned loose in any part of the country, it would immediately make its way to the rector of Houghton's."

Every Sunday, from Michaelmas till Easter, was a sort of public day with him. During this season he expected to see all his parishioners and their families. For their reception, he had three tables well covered; the first was for gentlemen, the second for husbandmen and farmers, and the third for day labourers. This piece of hospitality he never omitted, even when looses, or a scarcity of provision, made its continuance rather difficult to him. He thought it his duty, and that was a deciding motive. Even when he was absent from home, no alteration was made in his family expences; the poor were fed as usual, and his neighbours entertained.

But notwithstanding all his painful industry, and the large scope it had in so extended a parish, Mr Gilpin thought the sphere of his benevolence yet too confined. It grieved him extremely to see everywhere, in the parishes around him, so great a degree of ignorance and superstition, occasioned by the shameful neglect of the pastoral care in the clergy of those parts. These bad consequences induced him to supply, as far as he could, what was wanting in others. For this purpose, every year he used regularly to visit the most neglected parishes in Northumberland, Yorkshire, Cheshire, Westmoreland, and Cumberland; and that his own parish in the mean time might not suffer, he was at the expence of a constant attendant. In each place he stayed two or three days; and his method was, to call the people about him, and lay before them, in as plain a way as possible, the danger of leading wicked or even careless lives; explaining to them the nature of true religion; instructing them in the duties they owed to God, their neighbour, and themselves; and showing them how greatly a moral and religious conduct would contribute to their present as well as future happiness.

As Mr Gilpin had all the warmth of an enthusiast, Gilpin, though under the direction of a very calm and sober judgment, he never wanted an audience, even in the wildest parts; where he roused many to a sense of religion, who had contracted the most inveterate habits of inattention to every thing of a serious nature. And wherever he came, he used to visit all the gaols and places of confinement; few in the kingdom having at that time any appointed minister. And by his labours, and affectionate manner of behaving, he is said to have reformed many very abandoned persons in those places. He would employ his interest likewise for such criminals whose cases he thought attended with any hard circumstances, and often procured pardons for them.

There is a tract of country upon the border of Northumberland, called Read's-dale and Tine-dale, of all barbarous places in the north at that time the most barbarous. Before the Union, this place was called the debateable land, as subject by turns to England and Scotland, and the common theatre where the two nations were continually acting their bloody scenes. It was inhabited by a kind of desperate banditti, rendered fierce and active by constant alarms; they lived by theft, used to plunder on both sides of the barrier; and what they plundered on one, they exposed to fate on the other; by that means escaping justice. And in this dreadful country, where no man would even travel that could help it, Mr Gilpin never failed to spend some part of every year.

He generally chose the Christmas holidays for his journey, because he found the people at that season most disengaged, and most easily assembled. He had set places for preaching, which were as regularly attended as the affize towns of a circuit. If he came where there was a church, he made use of it: if not, of barns, or any other large building; where great crowds of people were sure to attend him, some for his instructions, and others for his charity. This was a very difficult and laborious employment. The country was so poor, that what provision he could get, extreme hunger only could make palatable. The inclemency of the weather, and the badness of the roads through a mountainous country, and at that season covered with snow, exposed him likewise often to great hardships. Sometimes he was overtaken by the night, the country being in many places desolate for several miles together, and obliged to lodge out in the cold. At such times, we are told, he would make his servant ride about with his horses, whilst himself on foot used as much exercise as his age and the fatigues of the preceding day would permit. All this he cheerfully underwent; esteeming such services well compensated by the advantages which he hoped might accrue from them to his uninstructed fellow creatures.

The disinterested pains he took among these barbarous people, and the good offices he was always ready to do them, drew from them the warmest and sincerest expressions of gratitude. Indeed he was little less than adored among them, and might have brought the whole country almost to what he pleased. One instance that is related, shows how greatly he was revered. By the carelessness of his servants, his horses were one day stolen. The news was quickly propagated, and every one expressed the highest indignation at the fact. The thief was rejoicing over his prize, when, by the report of the country, he found whose horses he had taken. Terrified at what he had done, he instantly came trembling back, confessed the fact, returned the horses, and declared he believed the devil would have seized him directly, had he carried them off knowing them to have been Mr Gilpin's.

We have already taken notice of Mr Gilpin's uncommonly generous and hospitable manner of living. The value of his rectory was about 400l. a year: an income, indeed, at that time very considerable, but yet in appearance very disproportionate to the generous things he did: indeed, he could not have done them, unless his frugality had been equal to his generosity. His friends, therefore, could not but wonder to find him, amidst his many great and continual expences, entertain the design of building and endowing a grammar school: a design, however, which his exact economy soon enabled him to accomplish, though the expense of it amounted to upwards of 500l. His school was no sooner opened, than it began to flourish; and there was so great a resort of young people to it, that in a little time the town was not able to accommodate them. He put himself, therefore, to the inconvenience of fitting up a part of his own house for that purpose, where he seldom had fewer than 20 or 30 children. Some of these were the sons of persons of distinction, whom he boarded at easy rates: but the greater part were poor children, whom he not only educated, but clothed and maintained: he was at the expense likewise of boarding in the town many other poor children. He used to bring several every year from the different parts where he preached, particularly Read's-dale and Tine-dale; which places he was at great pains in civilizing, and contributed not a little towards rooting out that barbarism which every year prevailed lest among them.

As to his school, he not only placed able masters in it, whom he procured from Oxford, but himself likewise constantly inspected it. And, that encouragement might quicken the application of his boys, he always took particular notice of the most forward: he would call them his own scholars, and would send for them often into his study, and there instruct them himself. One method used by him to fill his school was a little singular. Whenever he met a poor boy upon the road, he would make trial of his capacity by a few questions, and if he found it such as pleased him, he would provide for his education. And besides those whom he sent from his own school to the universities, and there wholly maintained, he would likewise give to others, who were in circumstances to do something for themselves, what farther affluence they needed. By which means he induced many parents to allow their children a liberal education, who would otherwise not have done it. And Mr Gilpin did not think it enough to afford the means only of an academical education to these young people, but endeavoured to make it as beneficial to them as he could. He still considered himself as their proper guardian; and seemed to think himself bound to the public for their being made useful members of it, as far as it lay in his power to make them so. With this view he held a punctual correspondence with their tutors; and made the youths themselves frequently write to him, and give him an account of their studies. So solicitous indeed was he about Gilpin, about them, knowing the many temptations to which their age and situation exposed them, that once every other year he generally made a journey to the universities to inspect their behaviour. And this uncommon care was not unrewarded; for many of his scholars became ornaments to the church, and exemplary instances of piety.

To the account that hath been already given of Mr Gilpin's hospitality and benevolence, the following particulars may be added. Every Thursday throughout the year, a very large quantity of meat was dressed wholly for the poor; and every day they had what quantity of broth they wanted. Twenty-four of the poorest were his constant pensioners. Four times in the year a dinner was provided for them; when they received from his steward a certain quantity of corn, and a sum of money: and at Christmas they had always an ox divided among them.

Whenever he heard of any in distress, whether of his own parish or any other, he was sure to relieve them. In his walks abroad, he would frequently bring home with him poor people, and send them away clothed as well as fed. He took great pains to inform himself of the circumstances of his neighbours, that the modesty of the sufferer might not prevent his relief. But the money best laid out was, in his opinion, that which encouraged industry. It was one of his greatest pleasures to make up the losses of his laborious neighbours, and prevent their sinking under them. If a poor man had lost a beast, he would send him another in its room: or if any farmer had had a bad year, he would make him an abatement in his tythes. Thus, as far as he was able, he took the misfortunes of his parish upon himself; and, like a true shepherd, exposed himself for his flock. But of all kinds of indigent poor, he was most forward to assist those who had large families; such never failed to meet with his bounty, when they wanted to settle their children in the world.

In the distant parishes where he preached, as well as in his own neighbourhood, his generosity and benevolence were continually flowing themselves; particularly in the desolate parts of Northumberland. "When he began his journey," says an old manuscript life of him, "he would have 10 pounds in his purse; and, at his coming home, he would be 20 nobles in debt, which he would always pay within a fortnight after." In the gaols he visited, he was not only careful to give the prisoners proper instructions, but used to purchase for them likewise what necessaries they wanted.

Even upon the public road, he never let slip an opportunity of doing good. He has often been known to take off his cloak, and give it to a half-naked traveller; and when he has had scarce money enough in his pocket to provide himself a dinner, yet would he give away part of that little, or the whole, if he found any who seemed to stand in need of it. Of this benevolent temper, the following instance is preserved. One day returning home he saw in a field several people crowding together; and judging something more than ordinary had happened, he rode up, and found that one of the horses in a team had suddenly dropped down, which they were endeavouring to raise; but in vain, for the horse was dead. The owner of it seemed much dejected with his misfortune; and declaring how grievous a loss it would be to him, Mr Gilpin bade him not be disheartened: "I'll let you have (says he), honest man, that horse of mine," and pointed to his servant's.—"Ah! master (replied the countryman), my pocket will not reach such a beast as that." "Come, come (said Mr Gilpin), take him, take him; and when I demand my money, then thou shalt pay me."

This worthy and excellent divine, who merited and obtained the glorious titles of the Father of the Poor, and the Apostle of the North, died in 1583, in the 66th year of his age.