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, afterwards bishop of Worcester, and a martyr for the Protestant faith; but he was staggered in another disputation with Peter Martyr, and began seriously to examine the contested points by the best authorities. Accordingly, 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 with the general doctrines of the Reformation. He was kindly received by his uncle Dr Tonstall, bishop of Durham, who soon afterwards 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 among the clergy, on which a charge, consisting of thirteen articles, was drawn up against him, and presented in form to the bishop. But Dr Tonstall found a method of dismissing the cause in such a manner as to protect his nephew without endangering himself, and soon afterwards presented him to the rich living of Houghton-le-Spring. He was a second time accused 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 this Mr Gilpin prepared for martyrdom; and having ordered his house-steward to provide him a long garment, that he might make a decent appearance at the stake, he 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 apprehension. Being immediately set at liberty, he returned to Houghton, where he was received by his parishioners with the most sincere joy.

Upon the deprivation of the Roman Catholic bishops, he was offered the see of Carlisle, which he declined; and confining his attention to his rectory, he 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 as the effect of friendship. Thus, with unceasing assiduity, he employed himself in admonishing the vicious and engaging the well-intentioned; and by these means he in a few years effected a greater change in his neighbourhood than could well have been imagined.

But his hopes were not so much in the existing generation as in the succeeding one. It was an easier task, 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 ignorance of their duty, but pressing it as the wisest part to unite religion with labour, and, amidst the cares of this life, to have a constant eye upon the next. He attended to everything which might be of service to his parishioners. He was assiduous in preventing lawsuits 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 them; nor could his sovereign's commission have given him greater weight or authority than his own character secured him.

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

Every Sunday, from Michaelmas till Easter, was a set 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 being intended for gentlemen, the second for husbandmen and farmers, and the third for day-labourers. This piece of hospitality he never omitted, even when losses, or a scarcity of provision, made its continuance rather difficult to him. He thought it his duty, and that was a decisive motive. Even when he was absent from home, no alteration was made in his expenses; the poor were fed as usual, and his neighbours entertained.

But notwithstanding all his painful industry, and the large scope he had for it in so extensive a parish, Mr Gilpin thought the sphere of his benevolence 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 among the clergy of those parts. The bad consequences resulting from this induced him to supply, as far as he could, what was wanting in others. For this purpose, he used every year regularly to visit the most neglected parishes in Northumberland, Yorkshire, Cheshire, Westmoreland, and Cumberland; and that his own parish might not in the mean time suffer, he was at the expense of a constant assistant. In each place he staid 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. Mr Gilpin's generous and hospitable manner of living has been already noticed. The value of his rectory was about £400 a year; an income, indeed, at that time very considerable, but yet in appearance very disproportionate to the generous things he performed with it; indeed he could not have done these, 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 expenses, 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 £500. His school was no sooner opened than it began to flourish; and so great a number of young people flocked 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, for that purpose, a part of his own house, where he could have fewer than twenty or thirty 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 educated, clothed, and maintained at his own charge. He was at the expense likewise of boarding in the town many other poor children. He used to ring several every year from the different parts where he preached, particularly from Readsdale and Tindale; places which he was at great pains in civilizing, and in rooting out that barbarism which every year prevailed less and less amongst them.

As to his school, he not only placed in it able masters, whom he procured from Oxford, but he himself likewise constantly inspected it; and, that encouragement might quicken the application of his boys, he always took particular notice of the most promising. He would call them his own scholars, and would send for them often to his apartment, 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 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 likewise gave to others, who were in circumstances to do something for themselves, what further assistance they required. By these means he induced many parents to allow their children a liberal education, who would not otherwise have done so. Nor did Mr Gilpin think it sufficient to afford the means only of an academical education to these young people; he endeavoured also to render it as beneficial to them as he could. He still considered himself as their proper guardian; and he seemed to think himself bound to the public for their being made useful members of society, as far as it lay in his power to make them so. With this view he carried on 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 them; knowing the many temptations to which their age and situation naturally exposed them, that once every other year he generally made a journey to the universities to inspect their behaviour. Nor was his uncommon care unrewarded; for many of his scholars became ornaments to the church, and men of exemplary piety.

Whenever he heard of any in distress, whether of his parish or of 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 being relieved. 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, he exposed himself for his flock. But of all kinds of industrious poor, he was most forward to assist those who had large families; persons in this situation never failed to experience his bounty when they wanted to settle their children in the world.

This benevolent and excellent divine, who merited and obtained the glorious titles of Father of the Poor, and the Apostle of the North, died in 1583, in the sixty-sixth year of his age.