Page  159

SECTION VII.

THE public generally sees us in disguise: the case is, we ordinarily pay a greater deference to the world's opinion, than to our own consciences. Hence a man's real merit is very improperly estimated from the more exposed part of his behaviour.

The passages of Mr. Gilpin's life, already collected, are chiefly of a public nature; if we may thus call any action of a life so pri∣vate. To place his merit therefore in its truest light, it will be necessary to accompany him in his retirement, and take a view of his ordinary behaviour, from which all restraint was taken off. Hence we shall have the fullest proof of what he truly was, upon what principles he acted, and that the virtue he practised was not the effect of any deference to the world's opinion, but of inward con∣viction, and a sincere desire to act agreeably to the will of his creator.

When he first took upon him the care of a parish, he laid it down as a maxim, to do all the good in his power there. And in∣deed Page  160his whole conduct was only one strait line drawn to this point.

He set himself to consider how he might best perform the charge intrusted to him. The pastoral care he saw was much neglect∣ed: the greater part of the clergy, he could not but observe, were scandalously negligent of it, accepting livings only with secular views; and even they, who seemed desirous of being accounted serious in the discharge of their ministry, too often, he thought, con∣sidered it in a light widely different from its true one. Some, he observed, made it consist in asserting the rights of the church, and the dignity of their function; others, in a stre∣nuous opposition to the prevailing sectaries, and a zealous attachment to the established church-government; a third sort in examin∣ing the speculative points, and mystical parts of religion: none of them in the mean time considering either in what the true dignity of the ministerial character consisted; or the only end for which church-government was at all established; or the practical influence, which can alone make speculative points worth our attention.—All this he observed, Page  161with concern observed, resolving to pursue a different path, and to follow the laudable ex∣ample of those few, who made the pastoral care to consist in a strenuous endeavour to a∣mend the lives of those they were concerned with, and to promote their truest happiness both here and hereafter.

The strange disorder of that part of the country where his lot fell, hath already been observed. The extreme of ignorance, and of course of superstition, was its characteris∣tic. The great care of Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, his frequent and strict visitations, his severe inquiries into the ministry of the clergy, and manners of the laity, had made a very visible alteration for the better in the southern parts of England: but in the north, reformation went on but sluggishly. The in∣dolent archbishop of York slept over his pro∣vince. In what great disorder the good bi∣shop Grindal found it, upon his translation thither, in the year 1570, appears from his episcopal injunctions, among which are these very extraordinary ones, That no pedlar should be admitted to sell his wares in the church∣porch in time of service—That parish-clerks Page  162should be able to read—That no lords of mis∣rule, or summer lords and ladies, or any dis∣guised persons, morrice-dancers, or others, should come irreverently into the church, or play any unseemly parts with scoffs, jests, wanton gestures, or ribald talk, in the time of divine service.—From these things we may conceive the state of the parish of Houghton, when Mr. Gilpin came there *.

Amidst such ignorance to introduce a knowledge of religion was a laborious work; as difficult as a first plantation of the gospel. There was the same building to raise, and as much rubbish to clear away; for no preju∣dices could be stronger, and more alien to christianity, than those he had to oppose.

Page  163He set out with making it his endeavour to gain the affection of his parishioners. Many of his papers shew how material a point he considered this. To succeed in it however he used no servile compliances: he would have his means good, as well as his end. His behaviour was free without levity, obliging without meanness, insinuating with∣out art: he condescended to the weak, bore with the passionate, complied with the scru∣pulous: in a truly apostolic manner, he

By these means he gained mightily upon his neighbours, and convinced them how heartily he was their friend.

To this humanity and courtesy he added an unwearied application to the duties of his function. He was not satisfied with the ad∣vice 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 Page  164the effect of friendship. Thus laying him∣self out in admonishing the vicious, and en∣couraging the well-intentioned, in a few years he made a greater change in his neighbour∣hood, than could well have been imagined—a remarkable instance, what reformation a single man may effect, when he hath it ear∣nestly at heart!

But his hopes were not so much in the present generation, as in the succeeding. It was an easier task, he found, to prevent vice than to correct it; to form the young to vir∣tue, than to amend the bad habits of the old. He laid out much of his time therefore in an endeavour to improve the minds of the younger part of his parish. Nor did he only take notice of those within his school, but in general extended his care through the whole place: suffering none to grow up in an ig∣norance of their duty; but pressing it as the wisest part to mix religion with their labour, and amidst the cares of this life to have a con∣stant eye upon the next.

Nor did he omit whatever besides might be of service to his parishioners.

Page  165He was very affiduous 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.

He had a just concern for all under afflic∣tion; and was a much readier visitant at the house of mourning than at that of feasting. He had conversed so much in the world, that he knew how to apply himself to the most different tempers; and his large fund of read∣ing and experience always furnished some∣thing that would properly affect them. Hence he was considered as a good angel by all in distress.—When the infirmities of age came upon him, and he grew less able to endure exercise, it was his custom to write letters of consolation to such as were in affliction *

Page  166He used to interpose likewise in all acts of oppression; and his authority was such, that it generally put a stop to them.

Page  167A person against whom the country at that time exclaimed very much, was one Mr. Page  168Barns, a near relation, if not a brother of Dr. Barns, bishop of Durham, who raised him through some inferior posts to the chan∣cellorship of his diocese. This man, though at the head of an ecclesiastical court, would have been a scandal to the meanest office. He was indeed the tyrant of the country, considering his power only as the means of gratifying his vicious inclinations: among which, as avarice bore a ruling part, oppres∣sion Page  169was its natural effect. Between this man and Mr. Gilpin there was a perpetual oppo∣sition for many years; the latter endeavour∣ing always to counteract the former, and to be the redresser of those injuries, of which he was the author. Several traces of these con∣tests still remain among Mr. Gilpin's papers; from which it appears what a constant check upon his designs Mr. Barns found him; though he was never treated by him with any bitterness, but always in a mild, and even affectionate manner.

Mr. Gilpin tells him, conclud∣ing a letter written in favour of three orphans, whom Mr. Barns had defrauded of their pa∣trimony) By being thus at all times ready to espouse the cause of the injured, he shewed not only hu∣manity, but resolution likewise; without Page  170which our concern for the distresses of others will often go but a very little way towards their relief. For as compassion is only in∣stinct, consulting in its operations perhaps our own relief chiefly; of course he who is governed by no steadier principle, will desert the benevolent part, when fatigue or danger throw difficulties in his way. But he who can exert resolution in the cause of the op∣pressed, is a friend indeed: he is influenced by a fixed principle, the effect of rational consideration: this enables him to overcome the suggestions of fear and selfishness, which prompt most men, like the timorous herd, to shun the unfortunate. The humane part Mr. Gilpin acted, no doubt, often exposed him to inconveniencies; but he made little account of them, justly reflecting, that upon the whole what was right was best.

Thus he lived in his parish, careful only to discharge his duty: no fatigue or difficulty could excuse him to himself for the omission, of any part of it: the moral improvement of his people was his principal endeavour, and the success of this endeavour his princi∣pal happiness.

Page  171Notwithstanding however all this painful industry, and the large scope it had in so ex∣tended a parish, he thought the sphere of his benevolence yet too confined. It grieved him extremely to see every where in the pa∣rishes around him so much ignorance and su∣perstition; occasioned by the very great neg∣lect of the pastoral care in the clergy of those parts. How ill supplied the northern churches at this time were, hath already been observed; and will still appear in a stronger light, if we compare the state of these churches with that of those in the southern parts of the island, which were universally allowed to have been less neglected. Of one diocese, that of Ely, where the clergy do not appear to have been uncommonly remiss, we have a curious account still preserved: it contained one hun∣dred and fifty-six parishes; of which forty-seven had no ministers at all, fifty-seven were in the bands of careless non-residents, and only the remaining fifty-two were regularly served.

The very bad consequences arising from this shameful remissness among the clergy, induced Mr. Gilpin to supply, as far as he Page  172could, what was wanting in others. Every year therefore he used regularly to visit the most neglected parishes in Northumberland, Yorkshire, Cheshire, Westmorland, and Cum∣berland: and that his own parish, in the mean time, might not suffer, he was at the expence of a constant assistant. 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 them∣selves—and shewing them how greatly a mo∣ral and religious conduct would contribute to their present as well as future happiness.

When a preacher, though the merest rhap∣sodist or enthusiast, seems to speak from his heart, from a thorough sense of his duty, what he says will be listened to. The ap∣pearance of his being truly in earnest, will dispose men at least to give him a fair hear∣ing. Hence Mr. Gilpin, who had all the warmth of an enthusiast, though under the direction of a very calm judgment, never Page  173wanted an audience even in the wildest part; where he roused many to a sense of religion, who had contracted the most inveterate ha∣bits of inattention to every things of a serious nature.

One thing he practised, which shewed the best-disposed heart. Where ever he came, he used to visit all the jails and places of con∣finement; few in the kingdom having at that time any appointed minister. And by his la∣bours, and affectionate manner of behaving, he is said to have reformed many very abandon∣ed persons in those places. He would employ his interest likewise for such criminals, whose cases he thought attended with any hard cir∣cumstances, and often procured pardons for them.

There is a tract of country upon the bor∣der of Northumberland, called Reads-dale and Tine-dale; of all barbarous places in the north, at that time the most barbarous. The fol∣lowing very picturesque description of this wild country we have from Mr. Camden:

Page  175Before the union this coutry was gene∣rally called the debateable land, as subject by turns to England and Scotland, and the com∣mon theatre where the two nations were con∣tinually acting their bloody scenes. It was inhabited, as Mr. Camden hath just inform∣ed us, by a kind of desperate banditti, ren∣dered fierce and active by constant alarms. They lived by theft; used to plunder on both sides of the barrier, and what they plunder∣ed on one, they exposed to sale on the other; by that means escaping justice. Such adepts were they in the art of thieving, that they could twist a cow's horn, or mark a horse, so as its owners could not know it; and so subtle, that no vigilance could guard against them. For these arts they were long after∣wards famous. A person telling king James a surprizing story of a cow that had been dri∣ven from the north of Scotland into the south of England, and escaping from the herd had found her way home. 'The most surpriz∣ing part of the story, the king replied, you lay least stress on, that she passed unstolen through the debateable land.'

Page  176In this dreadful country, where no man would even travel that could help it, Mr. Gil∣pin never failed to spend some part of every year. He generally chose the holidays of Christmas for this 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 assize-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 build∣ing; where great crouds of people were sure to attend him, some for his instructions, and others for his charity.

This was a very difficult and laborious em∣ployment. The country was so poor, that what provision he could get, extreme hunger only could make palatable. The badness of the wea ther and the badness of the roads through a mountainous country, and at that season cover∣ed with snow, exposed him likewise often to great hardships. Sometimes he was over∣taken by the night, the country being in many places desolate for several miles toge∣ther, and, as the bishop of Chichester relates, obliged to lodge out in the cold; at such Page  177times 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 chearfully underwent; esteeming such sufferings well compensated by the advantages which he hoped might accrue from them to his uninstructed fellow-creatures.

Our Saxon ancestors had a great aversion to the tedious forms of law. They chose ra∣ther to determine their disputes in a more concise manner, pleading generally with their swords.

was a Saxon law. A piece of ground was described, and covered with mats: here the plaintiff and defendant tried their cause. If either of them was driven from this boundary, he was obliged to redeem his life by three marks. He whose blood first stained the ground, lost his suit *.

This custom still prevailed on the borders, where Saxon barbarism held its latest posses∣sion. These wild Northumbrians indeed went beyond the serocity of their ancestors. Page  178They were not content with a duel: each contending party used to muster what adhe∣rents he could, and commence a kind of petty war *. So that a private grudge would often occasion much bloodshed.

It happened that a quarrel of this kind was on foot, when Mr. Gilpin was at Rothbury in those parts. During the two or three first days of his preaching, the contending parties observed some decorum, and never appeared at church together. At length however they met. One party had been early at church, and just as Mr. Gilpin began his sermon, the other entered. They stood not long silent. Inflamed at the sight of each other, they be∣gin to clash their weapons, for they were all armed with javelins and swords, and mutually Page  179approach. Awed however by the sacredness of the place, the tumult in some degree ceased. Mr. Gilpin proceeded: when again the combatants begin to brandish their wea∣pons, and draw towards each other. As a fray seemed near, Mr. Gilpin stepped from the pulpit, went between them, and address∣ing the leaders, put an end to the quarrel for the present, but could not effect an entire re∣conciliation. They promised him however, that till the sermon was over, they would make no more disturbance. He then went again into the pulpit, and spent the rest of the time in endeavouring to make them ashamed of what they had done. His behaviour and dis∣course affected them so much, that at his far∣ther entreaty, they promised to forbear all acts of hostility, while he continued in the country. And so much respected was he among them, that whoever was in fear of his enemy, used to resort where Mr. Gilpin was, esteeming his presence the best protection.

One sunday morning coming to a church in those parts before the people were assem∣bled, he observed a glove hanging up, and was informed by the sexton, that it was meant Page  180as a challenge to any one that should take it down. Mr. Gilpin ordered the sexton to reach it him; but upon his utterly refusing to touch it, he took it down himself, and put it in his breast. When the people were as∣sembled, he went into the pulpit; and before he concluded his sermon, took occasion to re∣buke them severely for these inhuman chal∣lenges. 'I hear, saith he, that one among you hath hanged up a glove even in this sa∣cred place, threatening to fight any one who taketh it down: see, I have taken it down;' and pulling out the glove, he held it up to the congregation; and then shewed them how unsuitable such savage practices were to the profession of christianity; using such per∣suasives to mutual love, as he thought would most affect them.

The disinterested pains he thus took among these barbarous people, and the good offices he was always ready to do them, drew from them the sincerest expressions of gratitude, a virtue perhaps as frequently the growth of these natural soils, as of the best cultivated. Indeed he was little less than adored, and might have brought the whole country almost Page  181to what he pleased.—How greatly his name was revered among them one instance will shew.

By the carlessness of his servant, his horses were one day stolen. The news was quickly propagated, and every one expressed the high∣est indignation at the fact. The thief was rejoicing over his prize, when by the report of the country he found whole 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.

Thus I have brought together what parti∣culars still remain of this excellent man's be∣haviour as a minister of the gospel. They discover so very good a heart, so strong a sense or duty, and so strict a regard to it in every instance, as would have been admired even in primitive times: the corruptions now prevailing may perhaps make their truth questionable; but they are all either taken from his life written by the bishop of Chi∣chester, Page  182or from papers of undoubted autho∣rity.—His own testimony to what hath been said shall be subjoined in the following ex∣tract.

'I am at present,' says he, apologizing to a friend,

I will conclude this section with an instance of that resolution and spirit, which on each proper occasion he failed not to exert; and by which he always maintained that indepen∣dency and real dignity, which became his station.

He received a message one day from Dr. Barns, bishop of Durham, appointing him to preach a visitation-sermon the sunday fol∣lowing. It happened he was then preparing for his journey into Reads-dale and Tine-dale: he acquainted the bishop therefore with the necessity of keeping that appointment, begg∣ing his lordship would at that time excuse him. His servant informed him that the bishop had received his message, but return∣ed no answer. Concluding him therefore sa∣tisfied, he set out on his journey: but to his great surprize, when he came home, found himself suspended; some persons, through enmity to him, having put the bishop upon this hasty step. A few days after he received an order to meet the bishop at Chester, a Page  184town in the diocese of Durham, where the bishops of that see formerly resided. Here many of the clergy were assembled, and Mr. Gilpin was ordered by the bishop to preach that day before them. He made his apology; He had come wholly unprepared—besides he was suspended, and thereby excluded from the pulpit. The bishop answered, he took off his suspension. But Mr. Gilpin still begg∣ed to be excused—he had brought no sermon with him, and hoped none would be require∣ed from him. But the bishop would take no excuse; telling him, that as he had been a preacher so long, he must be able to say enough to the purpose without any previous meditation. Mr. Gilpin persisting in his re∣fusal, the bishop at length grew warm, and required him upon his canonical obedience to go immediately into the pulpit. After a little delay therefore he went up; and though he observed several taking notes of what he said, he proceeded without the least hesitation.

The ecclesiastical court of Durham was at this time very scandalously governed. That Mr. Barns presided over it, who hath already Page  185been mentioned; and who made it indeed little better than an office for granting indulgen∣cies. The bishop was a well-meaning, weak man; irresolute, and wholly in the hands of others. Every thing was managed by his re∣lation the chancellor; whose venality, and the irregularities occasioned by it, were most no∣torious.

The opportunity now afforded him Mr. Gilpin thought no unfavourable one to open the bishop's eyes; and induce him to exert himself where there was so great reason for it. Private information had often been given him without any success: Mr. Gilpin was now resolved therefore to venture upon a public application to him. Accordingly, before he concluded his sermon, he turned towards the bishop, to whom he thus addressed himself.

for this it seems was the bishop's common apology to all complainants,

This freedom alarmed every one. As Mr. Gilpin went out of the church, his friends gathered round him, kindly reproaching him, Page  187with tears, for what he had done—'The bi∣shop had now got that advantage over him which he had long sought after—and if he had injured him before without provocation, what would he do now, so greatly exaspe∣rated?' Mr. Gilpin walked on, gently keep∣ing them off with his hand, and assuring them, that if his discourse should do the service he intended by it, he was regard∣less what the consequence might be to himself.

During that day nothing else was talked of. Every one commended what had been said, but was apprehensive for the speaker. Those about the bishop waited in silent ex∣pectation, when his resentment would break out.

After dinner Mr. Gilpin went up to the bishop, to pay his compliments to him, be∣fore he went home. 'Sir, said the bishop, I propose to wait upon you home myself.'—This he according'y did: and as soon as Mr. Gilpin had carried him into a parlour, the bishop turned suddenly round, and seiz∣ing him eagerly by the hand, 'Father Page  188Gilpin, says he to him, I acknowledge you are fitter to be the bishop of Durham than I am to be parson of this church of yours.—I ask forgiveness for past injuries—For∣give me, father.—I know you have enemies; but while I live bishop of Durham, be se∣cure, none of them shall cause you any fur∣ther trouble.'