The life of Bernard Gilpin a man most holy and renowned among the northerne English. Faithfully written by the Right Reverend Father in God George Carleton Lord Bishop of Chichester, and published for the sake of his common auditors, by whom it was long since earnestly desired.

The life of BERNARD GILPIN.

BErnard Gilpin was borne at Kentmire in the County of Westmorland in the yeare of our Lord 1517. of an ancient and hono∣rable family, being the son of Edwin Gil∣pin, the elder brother of which Edwin was slain in the battle of Bosworth, being heire in the fifth descent of Richard Gilpin, who in the Raign of King Iohn was enfeoffed in the Lordship of Kentmire hall by the Baron of Kendall for his singular deserts both in peace and warre. This was that Richard Gilpin who slew the wilde Boore, that rageing in the mountaines adioy∣ning, as sometimes did that of Erimanthus, had much in∣dammaged the Country-people: whence it is that the Gilpins in their Coate Armes giue the Boore. The Mo∣ther of Bernard Gilpin was 'Margaret the Daughter of William Laton of Delama••n in Cumberland, a man of an an∣cient house, and a family famous in that warlike age, as from whence had sprung many right valiant Gentle∣men.

This Bernard being yet a very childe gaue testimony of future holinesse vpon this occasion. A certaine beg∣ging Frier the better to dispose the hearts of the people to liberality towards him, professed himselfe a Zealous Preacher: how beit the Friers of those dayes, and that ranke were but a fordid and dishonest people, some of them, yea the greatest part labouring for a forme of holi∣nesse, but denying the power of it in their liues and con∣versations,

whereas others of them retained not so much as an outside thereof. This wa••dring companion was come vpon the Saturday to the house of this Gilpins Fa∣ther, as purposing to preach the next morrow being the Lords day; where he was enterteined respectiuely e∣nough: for at that time it was a sinne vnpardonable to offend the least of these locusts. The holy Frier at supper time eate like a glutton, and like a beast could not giue o∣ver tossing the pot, vntill being overcome with drinke he exposed himselfe a shamefull spectacle to so chast and sober a family. But in the morning as if he had beene some young Saint lately dropped from heaven, he causeth the Bell to towle to the Sermon, and in the midst there∣of blustering out certaine good words, he presumed to grow hot against some sinnes of the time, and amongst the rest to thunder bouldly against drunkennesse. Young Gilpin who had but newly got the vse of his tongue, ha∣ving observed (as it seemed) the hatefull basenesse of the man by his oversight the night before, and now hearing the beast cry out so loud against these crimes which him∣selfe had so lately beene guilty of, as he was sitting neere to his Mothers lap in the Church sodainly crieth out in these words: O Mother, doe you heare how this fellow dare speak against drunkennesse, who was drunke him∣selfe yesternight at our house? The Mother made speed to stop the childes mouth with her hand, that he might speake no further. After this the parents of the boy per∣ceiving his disposition by many evident testimonies were diligently carefull to make him a scholler. He had a schoolfellow one Edwin Airy whom afterwards he loved intirely for his good disposition and approoved honesty, but Gilpin did farre excell the rest in acutenesse of wit. Having therefore with great approbation passed his time in the Grammar-schoole, he is by his parents, (who had now conceived great hope of their sonne) sent to Oxford. At that time in Oxford both learning and Relligion were in all things out of ioynt, and over-grown with the rust of

Barbarisme. And now was young Gilpi•• sixteene yeares of age at his comming to Oxford, being in the yeare of our Lord 1533. Being entred in Queenes Colledge, he profited wondrously in humane learning: He became, as almost all the good wits of that time very conversant in the writings of Erasmus. He fell very close to the study Logick and Philosophy, wherein he was observed to grow excellent, and to beare away the bell in schooles. He added to this his humane learning, the singular know∣ledge of the Greeke and Hebrew, wherein he made vse of the assistance and friendship of one Neale, betwixt whom and this Gilpin was growne much familiarity by the affinity of their studies. This Neale was a Fellow of New-Colledge, and afterwards Professour of the Hebrew in Oxford. And now after some few yeares carefully spent in these studies Gilpin began to be so famous, and so be∣loved in Oxford, that there was hardly any place of pre∣ferment for a scholler, whereof the eminency of Gup••ns vertue had not rendred him worthy in the publick esti∣mation. There was then an enquiry made for men of more then ordinary learning and fame, who might make vp a number of schollers in Christ-Church at that time newly begun, and honour it with the commendation of learning. Amongst these was our Gilpin one of the first elected. At that time he had not fully attained to truth and sincerity in Relligion, as having beene alwayes in∣structed in the traditions of the Church of Rome; for in those dayes the most part of men did not regulate their Relligion and peity by the rule of Gods word, but accor∣ding to the Traditions of their Fathers received from hand to hand. His minde although disposed to holinesse did for a while remaine in darknesse, and being over∣clouded with preiudiciall respects laboured vnder the burthen of superstition not without some shadow of An∣tiquity; being more earnest against vices and corrupti∣ons of the time, then against the traditions of the Fathers. Therefore at that time Gilpin seemed a great vphoulder

of the Popish Relligion. He held disputation publickly against Iohn H••••per, who was afterwards Bishop of Wor∣cester, and at the last a glorious Martyr of Christ. After the death of King Henry the eight, when Edward the sixt was King, Peter Martyr induced by the piety and Mu∣nificence of such a Prince read the Divinity Lecture in Oxford. Against whom the Sophisters indeavoured to make opposition, Chedsey, Weston, and Morgan, who desired also to draw in Gilpin on their side, that by his advise and help they might the more distract Peter Mar∣tir: and the matter at last came to this push, that Gilpin was produced to hould disputation against the positions of Peter Martir. Vpon occasion of which dispute Gilpin to the end that he might defend his cause in hand adven∣tureth more diligently then ordinary to examine the Scriptures and the auncient Fathers: And by how much the more he studied to defend the cause which he had vn∣dertaken, so much the lesse confidence he began to haue therein, because he supposed that he ought to stand for the truth, which he stroue with all his might to discover and finde out. But whiles he was zealously searching for the truth, he began by little and little to haue a sight of his owne errours. Whereupon Peter Martir was wont often to say, that he was not much troubled either for Weston, Morgan, or the like, but as for that Gilpin, (saith he) I am very much mooved concerning him, for he doth and speaketh all things with an vpright heart. The rest seeme to me to be men, who regard their bellies most of all, and being most vnconstant are carried away as it were with every blast of ambition and covetousnesse. But Gilpin re∣••ting firmely vpon gravity of manners, and the testimo∣ny of a most laudable life seemeth to honour with his owne goodnesse the cause which he vndertaketh. Yea, and he did often pray vnto God that he would be pleased at the last to convert vnto his truth the heart of Gilpin, being so inclinable to all honest desires. And doubtlesse God heard the prayer of Peter Martir: For from that

time forward Gilpin drew neere to the knowledge of the truth, not vpon a sodaine, but as himselfe confessed by de∣grees.

Peter Martir had much illuminated Oxford with the truth of Divinity and the knowledge of humane learning. Whereupon Gilpin resolved more earnestly to apply him∣selfe both by study and prayer to search out the truth. To which purpose he determined to put in writing the dis∣putation which had beene betwixt himselfe and Hooper. But in the expressing and vnfoulding of the said contro∣versie, while he dwelt for a time vpon an accurate exa∣mination of the points which he had resolved to confute, whiles he searcheth them to the bottome, and regulateth the institutions of the Church to the authority of Scrip∣ture, without which he well vnderstood that there could be no true Church at all, he felt himselfe easily overcome, and was not sory to be overcome by the truth. Those draughts being found amongst Mr. Gilpi••s writings re∣served in his private deske doe testifie his ingenuous and free confession, together with the power of the truth and Gods great mercy in his conversion. Whiles he curiously pryeth into the Popish relligion, he was in∣forced to acknowledge that very many errours were crept into the Church which hinder and obs••ure the matter of our salvation, insomuch that they are no small offence to as many as hunger and thirst after righteous∣nesse and the knowledge of the truth. He discovered ma∣ny corruptio••s and changes of sound doctrine, he found not so much as word touching seven Sacraments before Peter Lumbard: and that the vse of the Supper was de∣livered vnder one kinde onely contrary to expresse Scrip∣tures: that Transubstantiation was a devise of the Schoole∣men: that the doctrine of the worke wrought called O∣pu•• operatum▪ was newly risen: that the Masse was tur∣ned from a Sacrament to a Sacrifice: that in the Church wherein all things were ordeined for the edification of the people, all things were now done, to the non-edifica∣tion

of them: that the adoration of Images was institu∣ted against the expresse commandement of God. Demur∣ring for a while as distracted with these thoughts, behold the rule of faith lately changed in the Councel of Tr••n•• vtterly astonished him. For he had observed out of the auncient Writers as well as out of the later ones, Lu••. ba••d, Scotus, Aq••inas, and the rest, that the rule of faith was to be drawne onely from the holy Scriptures, but in the Councel of Trent he beheld humane traditions made equall wi••h the Scriptures. And seeing he vnderstood these traditions to be nothing else but peevish and crosse expositions of the holy Scriptures, devised by the Bishops of Rome, and thrust in among the Decretall Epistles, as also that the said Decretall Epistles were meerely feigned and suppositions, as is confirmed by the testimonies of many learned men, and indeed by the confession of the very Papists themselues is acknowledged to be out of all doubt, this so great a confusion of things being risen in the Church in these latter ages enforced Gilpin now ear∣nestly desiring nothing so much as true piety, to begin to doubt whether the Pope might not be that Antichrist foretould in the Scriptures, and the Popish Church plainly Antichristian. For what is it to exalt and set vp himselfe against all that is called God, insomuch that he sitteth as God in the Temple of God, behaving himselfe as God, if not this, that the Pope is head of the vniversall Church, the Lord, the Monarch, and as it were the God thereof? And that the word of the Pope is defended as the very word of God? For how shall not he whose word is as the word of God, be as God, opposing himselfe to God, and shewing himselfe that he is God? But this word is called the vnwritten word, or verbum non script••m▪ is drawne out of the stinking puddles of the Decretals, that is to say, patched vp together out of false and fictitious writings. And this word which is in no respect worthy to be compared with the word of an honest man, is the vnwritten word of God, and to be enterteined with the

same pious affection as are the holy Scriptures. Can An∣tichrist when he shall come, (if yet there be another to come) more grievously wrong and blaspheme Christ and the holy Scriptures then the Pope doeth? And here at the last he demurred as in an exceeding great doubt. For who would haue thought the Pope to be Antichrist? who durst to speake such a word before Martin Luther? Therefore, thus he argued with himselfe: If the Pope be Antichrist, I fee not onely probable but even necessary causes to depart from the Popish Church. But if the Pope be not Antichrist, I see no sufficient ground for such a de∣parture. It is not lawfull to make a seperation from the Church: but we are not onely enioyned to come out of the Church of Antichrist, but we see the fearefull anger of the living God, and heare his dreadfull threates thun∣dered out against those who shall remaine in Babilo•• that Sinagogue of Antichrist. Forasmuch as a voice from hea∣ven speaketh vnto vs. Apoc. 18 Come out of her my peo∣ple: & it is denounced that they shal receiue of her plagues whosoever haue beene partakers of her sinnes. Here therfore he stoppeda while: because except the Pope were manifestly detected to be Antichrist, he did not vnder∣stand how he might seperate from the Church: and there∣fore he applied himselfe by searching, reading, prayer and meditation, to be resolved of this truth. He observed out of the Auncient Fathers, Tertullian, I••rom, Ambrose, Au∣gustine, Chrysostome, Cyrill, and others, that passage where∣in Antichrist is described, 2 Thess. 2▪ 7. He which now with∣houldeth shall let till he be taken out of the way, to be so in∣terpreted as vnderstood of the Romane Empire, that the Romane Empire which now held preheminence should keepe possession vntill Antichrist shall come, who shall possesse the seat of the Romane Empire. And more∣over whereas it is said in the same place, that Christ shall not come againe except there be a depart••r•• first, he observed this thing to be fulfilled likewise. He perceived first a very maine departure of the Church of Rome from her

primitiue simplicity and truth. And secondly, a second departure or seperation no lesse manifest, to wit, of that of the Reformed Churches from the Church of Rome.

Mr. Gilpin would often say that the Churches of the Protestants were not able to giue any firme and solid rea∣son of their seperation besides this, to wit, that the Pope is Antichrist. For he vnderstood that a departure was commanded from the Church of Antichrist by that hea∣venly iniunction, Goe out of her my people, and be not parta∣kers of her sinnes, lest ye reciue also of her plagues, Revel. 18. 4. In which place S. lohn wisely foretelleth that the people of God should be called out of the Synagogue of Antichrist: that here was no third thing to be thought vpon: that either the Church of Christ was not to be forsaken, or the Pope to be accounted Antichrist, out of whose Church the Church of God is called forth by an heavenly voice & command. And now event which is the most vndoubted interpreter of Prophecies hath prooved all these things vnto vs: We haue seene already many Ages agoe that Kingdome taken away, which ruled over all in the time of the Apostles: and in the roome thereof an Ecclesiasticall Kingdome erected, such an one as was never seene in the Church in former Ages. We haue be∣held the fearfull departure of the Church of Rome from the auncient purity and integrity of the Church. We haue observed and doe daily the people called as it were by a voice from heaven, comming out of Babylon, that is to say, out of the Church of Antichrist. Our eyes haue seene these things fulfilled, which we haue read of as being fore∣tould so many Ages agoe. These things mooved the mind of Mr. Gilpin wonderfully to follow that Church which was shewed vnto him out of the word of God. The Church of Rome kept the rule of faith intire, vntill that rule was changed and altered by the Councel of Trent. And from that time it seemed vnto him a matter of ne∣cessitie to come out of the Church of Rome, that so that Church which is true & called out of from thence might

follow the word of God. For this calling out seemed to point out vnto vs a peculiar estate of the Church: so A∣braham was called out from Vr of the Caldees, the people of Israel were called out of Egypt, the Iewes out of Babylon, after the captivity of seventy yeeres: and at the last after the selfe same manner the Reformed Church called out of Mysticall Babylon▪ or the Church of Rome. These things were seene to haue beene brought to passe by the won∣derfull providence and powerfull hand of God. There∣fore he saw that there was a necessity of commi••g out of her, and that that Apostaticall Church was to be forsa∣ken. But he did not these things violently, but by de∣grees. In the meane while Cuthbert Tonstall Bishop of Durham had a purpose to send Mr. Gilpin to visit the Churches in forrane parts allowing him meanes for his travell. This Tonstall was Mr. Gilpins Mothers Vncle. But before he vndertooke his voyage being commanded to Court he preached before King Edward the sixth tou∣ching Sacriledge; which Sermon is publick in print. Then he applied his mind to thinke vpon his travell. Now so it was that he had a Parsonage bestowed vpon him by the care of his friends. This Parsonage Bishop Tonstall persuaded Mr. Gilpin to keepe still in his hands, as meanes to furnish him with allowance for his travell, that he might demeane himselfe more honestly and more Gentleman like therein. But Gilpin who had reteined this Parsonage but a short while, before he would betake himselfe to travell called vnto him a friend, whom he knew to be relligious, and a scholler, and one that would not be idle in the function of the holy Ministry, and vnto him he made a resignation of his place but a little while before bestowed vpon himselfe. Which thing when Bi∣shop To••stat came to know of, he chid with Mr. Gilpin: And, I (saith he) haue a care of thee, and thou reiectest it as impertinent. But I tell thee this before hand, that by these courses thou wilt die a begger. At the first Gilpin indeavoureth with faire language to appease the mind of

the Bishop his especiall good friend. Afterwards he ad∣ded that he had left his Parsonage vpon necessity, because he could not keepe it in his hands with any peace of con∣science. But (saith the Bishop) thou maist hould it with a dispensation, and in this case thou shalt be dispensed withall. But (answered Gilpin) the Divell will not be restrained by any bonds of dispensation from labouring in mine absence the destruction of my people committed to my charge: And I feare that when God sha••l call me to an account of my stewardship, it will not se••ue my turne to make answer that I was dispensed withall whiles the Divell made havock of my flock. At which answer the Bishop seemed offended: but having hereby made triall of the sincerity of Gilpins heart he began to vse him with more and more respect. Yet he did often threaten him, as Mr. Gilpin was wont to say, that Fathers soule, (a familiar word of the Bishops) Gilp••n would die a beg∣ger. In his travell abroad he first visited his brother George at Mechlin, who had written vnto him to that purpose: then he lived for a while at Lovaine, and at Antwerp, and at Paris. After he was departed out of Eng∣land, he received letters a second time from his brother George, whereby he was directed to meet him at Mec••∣lin, because he had something to deliver vnto him by word of mouth that he could not conveniently write. Af∣ter they were met, Mr. Gilpin vnderstood the reasons why he had sent for him thither to be nothing else, but onely to persuade him to take vpon him a Parsonage, which might affoord him maintenance while he should visite forraigne Vniversities. Gilpin now seemed to him∣selfe to be in a strait, for he knew that he had lately gi∣ven the Bishop distast vpon this occasion, and he percei∣ved that in this matter his brother was put vpon him by the Bishop. At last therefore he writes backe to the Bishop in these words.

The Letter followeth.

MY very honourable good Lord, and most worthy ever to be honoured by me: I thought it not fit∣ting ••o conceale from your Lordship that my brother hath written vnto me of late, that setting all excuse aside I should giue him meeting at Mechlin, because he had something to say vnto me touching very necessary af∣faires which could not be dispatched by letters. When we were met, I vnderstood that ••his businesse with me was nothing else but to try me, if I would take vpon me a living, whiles my selfe in the meane while should re∣maine a student in the Vniversity. But had I knowne be∣fore hand that this was the cause of my iourney I should not haue thought it necessary to haue interrupted my stu∣dies with going to Mechli••. For now I confesse I haue discussed it with all the learned, but especially with the holy Prophets, and with the most auncient and most godly writers since the time of our Saviour: so that I am fully resolved so long as I liue never to burden my con∣science in this case, nor to keepe a living in mine owne charge with condition to liue from it. He answered that your Lordship had written vnto him that you would gladly conferre a living vpon me, and that your Lordship and mine other friends, whereof himselfe was one, iud∣ged mee too scrupulous in conscience in this case. Where∣unto I answered, if I be somewhat too scrupulous, (as I thinke I am not) yet it is a matter of that nature, that I had rather be little too strict, then to giue my consci∣ence too much scope herein. Forasmuch as I am once perswaded, that I shall not offend God in refusing such a living as I cannot be resident vpon: so long as I doe not censure evill of other men, as I hope I never shall: yea I pray daily for all those who haue the care of soules, that they may be able so to giue an account vnto God of the

charge committed vnto them as may be most for the glory of God and the edification of his Church. He tould me also that your Lordship would not confer any charge vpon me but such a one as should be served as well, or perhaps better in mine absence, then if I were there my selfe. Whereunto I answered, that I doubted not but that there might be in England a great number of men farre more able then my selfe to take the cure vpon them: And therefore I wish aboue all things that they may retaine both the place and the benefit, and feede both the bodies and the soules as I suppose all good Pastors bound in con∣science to doe. But for mine owne part I cannot in con∣science reape benefit from that place, wherein another man bestoweth his indeavours. For though any other should teach and preach for me as constantly and indu∣striously as ever Saint Augustine did, yet cannot I thinke my selfe discharged by another mans paines-taking. But if yet I should be persuaded thus to offer violence to my conscience vpon condition to remaine either here or in any other Vniversity, my disquiet of conscience would never permit me to profit in my study. At his present, I praise God, I haue obtained a comfortable privacy in my studies neere to a Monastery of Minorite Friers, so that I haue opportunity to make vse of an excellent libra∣ry of theirs so often as I will. I frequent the company of the best schollers, nor was I ever more desirous to learne. Hereupon being given to vnderstand by my brother George, that your Lordship had some thoughts of be∣stowing a living vpon me, which thing might interrupt the course of my studies, I emboldened my selfe (vpon the experience which I haue had of your Lordships loue towards me) to vnlock the closet of my thoughts vnto your goodnesse freely: Humbly beseeching that your Lordship will be pleased to permit me to live free from a Pastorall charge, that I may the more quietly apply my studies. And forasmuch as I vnderstand that your Lord∣ship is sollicitous, how I should be provided for, if God

should call your Lordship, (who are now well in yeares) out of this world, I beseech you that the thought there∣of may no more disturbe you. For if I shall be brought low in meanes, I doubt not but in short time to be able to obtaine some lecture either in this Vniversity or else where, where I shall not lose my time, a course which is much more pleasing vnto me, then if I should take vpon me a Pastorall charge. I beseech Christ preserue your Lordship.

From Lovaine the 22. of November, 1554.

Thus farre Mr. Gilpins Letter.

Now tell me, what one of all those gaping rookes of our time hath indeavoured with more art to acquire the•• this man to decline a spirituall living? At his first com∣ming over into the parts beyond the Seas, he resided for the most part at Lovaine, afterwards he went to Paris. Whiles he abode in Paris, Bishop Tonstall was carefull that a certaine booke which himselfe had written at that time concerning the truth of the body & blood of Christ our Lord in the Eucharist should be published in print by the diligence of Mr. Gilpin. I am not ignorant that some Papists haue obiected to Mr. Gilpin, that the same worke was by him corrupted cōtrary to the mind of the Author. And even in mine hearing, when after these things I was a scholler vnder him at Houghto••, Francis Wickliff: gaue notice vnto Mr. Gilpin what was mattered touching the corrupt edition: Whereupon he having disprooved that suspicion by many reasons, at the last produced the let∣ters of Cuthbert Tonstall, wherein the Bishop gaue him very great thankes, because he had beene both faithfull and diligent in the edition of that worke. At Paris Mr. Gilpin resided in the house of Vascos••nus, and conversed with learned men. And whiles he asked the opinions of learned men concerning these things which had troubled his minde, for the most part they answered him in that manner, not as if they regarded the pacification of con∣science, which he aimed at onely, but the establishment of the traditions of the Church. At that time was Neal••

at Paris also, with whom Mr. Gilpin dealt somewhat freely, that both of them together might ioyne in pur∣suit of the truth. They had by chance some discourse tou∣ching the adoration of Images; Mr. Gilpin was much troubled hearing the Papists condemne Idolatry in their discourses and yet permitting to the people every where the adoration of Images. He demaunded with what com∣fort of conscience any man could bow himselfe before an Image: and is not this (saith he) the idolatry forbidden in the second commandement? This did Mr. Gilpin de∣mand of him the rather, because he observed the man a little too much addicted to the Popish opinions. Neale answered with that vsuall distinction of an Idol and an I∣mage. That the Images of the Saints were not Idols, and so consequently that the worshipping of their Images was no idolatry. Mr. Gilpin replyed, there is no mention of an Idol in the second commandement, but there is a prohibition of bowing before a g••aven Image, or the likenesse of any thing that is in heaven aboue, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters vnder the earth: where∣soever they are, we are forbidden to fall downe before the likenesse of them. And what (saith he) maketh an I∣dol. The workeman frameth the similitude of some man, the graven Image is not an Idol, but ado••ation maketh it an Idol. Therefore the Apostle saith, that an Idol is no∣thing, because there is but one God. In the opinion of the person adoring it seemeth to be something, but that which the fancy of the party adoring apprehendeth is in∣dced nothing in the world: therefore Idolatry is when the worship due to God onely is bestowed vpon the creature. But whosoever in prayer boweth downe him∣selfe before any creature whatsoever giveth vnto the creature the worship due to God alone. The comman∣dement of God forbiddeth vs to make vnto our selues a∣ny graven Image, or the likenesse of any creature. But they make it vnto themselues who make it for a religi∣ous vse. We are also forbidden to bow downe ourselues

before any such creature; for those who doe so, doe serue and worship the same creature. And in this place that distinction of La••r••a and Doul•••• is frivolous, which are words of the same signification, forasmuch as that di∣stinction is taken away by the express words of the com∣mandement; Thou shalt not bow down vnto them. So that bo∣wing downe vnto them is forbidden, notwithstanding we see it practised every where. To this Neale answe∣reth, that the ordinances of the Church are not to be alte∣red without mature deliberation, Gilpin replyeth that it is not in ourpower to alter the ordinances of the Church. But seeing I cannot alter things already determined in the Church, it remaineth that I especially indeavour to charge my selfe, and to draw neere to the sincere wor∣ship of God, as his grace shall inable me.

Mr. Gilpin did often professe that when he lived amongst the Papists, he had observed many things which had e∣stranged his heart from that religion. He vnderstood that a mans chiefest comfort consisted in the Article of iu∣stification, which Article he saw so obscured in Popery that true consolation was vtterly excluded. Therefore he did with all diligence enquire into the Scriptures and writings of the Fachers. Returning into England in the dayes of Queene Mary he beheld to his great griefe the Church oppressed with blood and fire: and being placed by Bishop Tonstall in the Rectory of Essingdon, he began to preach the word of God, and sharply to taxe some vi∣ces which then raigned in the Church. He propounded the doctrine of salvation plainly and soundly, which thing procured him many back friends, especially among the Clergy whose faults he had touched to the quick. There was at that time among the Clergy of the Bishoprick of Durham one Tonstall Parson of a Church in that Dio∣cesse. This man was very hot against Gilpin, & accused him often to the Bishop as an heretick, and one that deserved to be burnt as other hereticks were. But the Bishop could not indure to shed blood, and therefore dealt mildly with

him, and preserved him from the proiects of his enemies. I haue heard Anthony Carleton relate, (and he at that time lived in the Bishops house) that the Bishops Chaplains at a certaine time had some discourse with Gilpin about Luther: and that one of them had asked him what hee thought of Luther and his writings. Gilpin confessed that had not read the writings of Luther, I propounded vnto my selfe, (said he) this course; first of all to search the Scriptures diligently, and to be acquainted with the ex∣positions of the Fathers vpon them. As for the writings of the Neoterickes, I haue onely looked vpon them: how∣beit I refuse them not when and where they agree with the Auncients. One of them commended Mr. Gilpins re∣solution, and said, it would be well with the Church, if all men would duely respect the writings of the Fathers: for then the vpstart opinions of late writers would not so much disturbe the Church, such as are of these of Lu∣ther. But Gilpin answered, if Neoterickes and late writers produce the opinions of the auncient Fathers, the novel∣ty of the men is not to be disdained, but the antiquity of the doctrine is to be reverenced.

They hereupon subtilly draw on Gilpin into a disputa∣tion concerning the Sacrament of the Altar; propounding therein two questions, the one concerning the Reall pre∣sence, the other concerning Transubstantiation. Touching the Reall presence Gilpin confessed that he had no very strong Argument wherewith in his iudgement he might oppose the Reall presence: For I suppose, (saith he) that therein lieth hid a great mystery, such a one as is aboue my capacity, rather to be adored then disputed vpon. They asked then what he thought of Transubstantiation? He answered that there was no necessity why we should beleeue those things which haue no solid foundation in the word of God. Doe you not then beleeue, (said they) as the Church beleeues? Gilpin replyeth that the Church had not alwayes held that as an Article of faith: I am (saith he) of the Catholick faith, and the Catholick faith

changeth not. But in this point I see alterations▪ such as the Catholicke faith is not capable of. They deman∣ded what alterations in faith he had observed touching the Sacrament of the Altar. He replyeth: I doe not finde that in the Church in former ages, there was any thing spoken, or writen about Transubstantiation. Peter Lum∣bard was either the first, or at least one of the first that brought in the alteration of the auncient faith. And what doe you your selues thinke? Is the bread in Tran∣substantiation converted into the flesh and blood of Christ? They answer, that they beleeue so absolutely. But, saith Gilpin, Peter Lumbard who was the first man that made an alteration of the faith of our forefathers in this point, himselfe did not beleeue as you doe. For in his fourth booke the eleuenth distinction, F. thus he hath it: there is no Transubstantiation but of bread into flesh, and wine into blood. And if that be true, then doubtlesse it followes consequently, that in the Transubstantiation of the bread there is no blood. And now (saith he) how will you reconcile these thinges. They stood at a stand, as hauing nothing to answer, be∣cause the words of Lumbard plainely deny that in the Transubstantiated bread can be any blood, or in the wine his flesh. Whom when Gilpin had obserued to stagger in this point, take notice now (saith he) of the immu∣tabillity of the Catholicke faith: we see the alteration of Transubstantiation. For when Lumbard had broached this doctrine, that there was a kinde of change, he would haue it non otherwise vnderstood then thus: that the bread onely should be changed into flesh, and the wine onely into blood.

Nor did men at that time dreame of any other con∣version in the Sacrament of the Altar, vntill the fiction of concomitancy was broached by Thomas Aquinas. He was a man that vnderstood well the difficulty of this point, and therefore he vnderpropped it with Concomi∣••ancy, that forsooth by reason of Co••comitancy there is

both flesh and blood in the Transubstantiated bread. But these are the inventions of later men, whereas the Catholicke relligion abhorreth invented, alterations in matters of faith. While they were houlding this dispu∣tation without speakeing aloud, because they were close at the Bishops backe, who at that time sate before the fire, for it was in the winter season: the Bishop leaned his chaire somewhat backwards, and harkened what they said. And when they had done speaking, the Bi∣shop turning to his Chaplaines, vseth these words. Fa∣thers soule, let him alone, for he hath more learning then you all.

Whilest he liued at Essingdon, he preached the word of God constantly to the people. Now so it was that the Archdeaconry of Durham was annexed to the rectory of Essingdon. Therevpon Mr. Gilpin for a time supplyed both places. And when by chance he had notice that the Bishop was so carefull of him, that he had a purpose to encrease his maintenance, he made answer that he was provided for sufficiently and even somewhat more then sufficient already; and desired the Bishop that he might haue his good leaue to resigne either the Rectory or the Archdeacons place: for (saith he) the one of them will be sufficient, me thinkes both together are to heauie a burthen for me. Hereat ihe Bishop seemed to be mooued with him, and said: haue nor I tould thee before hand, that thou wilt die a begger? I found them both combined; and combined I will leaue them.

Not long after he bestowed vpon Mr. Gilpin the Rectory of Houghton being a very large Parish contayning 14. Villages with very large possessions, Mr. Gilpin be∣ing setled at Houghton persevered most constantly in the duties of the Ministry, and repaired the decayed houses. His Parsonage house seemed like a Bishops Pallace; nor shall a man lightly finde one Bishops house amongst ma∣ny worthy to be compared to this house of his, if he consider the variety of buildings, and neatnesse of the s••ituation.

Whiles Mr. Gilpin liued at Houghton he was touched with a care not of that parish onely but of many more: for he sawe and was much greiued to see many congre∣gations through the distast of impropriation, as they call it, to be even dispersed and destitute of Pastors. For the parsonages being in the possession of Laymen, there remained not maintenance for a Minister, for the Lay∣men sought out for poore base preistes, who were one∣ly able to read prayers to the people morning and eve∣ning: nor did the one vse to require, or they take care to performe any more. This desolation of the Church, and ignorance of the common sort much troubled the holy heart of Mr. Gilpin. He therefore purposed with himselfe, with asmuch care and vigilancy as he could, not to make vp the breach wholy (for that was a thing impossible for him to dooe) but to doe this owne duty to the best of his indeauours, that the truth may be pro∣pagated, and God glorified. This desolation of the congregations appeared most of all in Northumb••rland and the ports adioyning which are called Riddesdale, and Tindale. For in these quarters, especially, in that time, the word of God was neuer heard of to be preached a∣mongst them but by Mr. Gilpins Ministry. So that once a yeare it was his custome to make a iourney amongst them. For which purpose he would vsually take the opportunity of Christmas Holidayes, when in respect of frost and snowe other men were loth to travell. That time he liked best, because then there came many Holy-dayes together, & the people would more vsually assem∣ble vpon the Holy-dayes, whereas at other times they neither would come together so easily, nor so often.

He got himselfe a great deale of estimation and respect amongst this people both by preaching and by distribu∣tion of monies to the poore in his Iourney, being some∣times benighted before he was well aware, and forced to lodge in the snowe all night. In which extremity, he commanded William Airy, who for the most part at∣tended

vpon him to tro••t the horses vp and downe and neither to permit them nor himselfe to stand still, whiles he himselfe in the meane while did bestirre himselfe sometimes running, sometimes walking, as not able to stand still for could. At home his daily care was for the discharge of his Ministry and provision for the poore. Now there was in this towne of Houghton a streete of poore people: for their releife he tooke order that eve∣ry Thursday through the yeare a very great pot should be providedfull of boyled meat purposely for the poore. And not at Houghton alone, but even wheresoever op∣po••tunity presented it selfe, he was carefull for the poore, insomuch that by the common consent of the Country people he was stiled a father of the poore.

Vpon a time as he was returning home vpon a iour∣ney there was a certaine husbandman at plow, in whose teame of horse one vpon a sodaine fell downe, whether with being overwrought or vpon some disease it is vn∣certaine. The husbandman and those who were with him did their best to raise the horse againe with all the strength they had: but it was in vaine, for the horse was dead. Mr. Gilpin passing by accidentally stayed to obserue the issue of the matter: And perceiving that the horse could not be raised againe, and that the husband∣man was exceedingly grieved for the death of his beast, and that he cryed out he was even vndone by that mise∣rable accident, he commanded his man to alight from the horse he had vnder him, and patiently to carry the saddle and bridle to the next towne, and to giue to the poore man the horse whereon he rode. The husband∣man thereupon cryed out, Alas Sir, I am not able to pay you the price of so good an horse. Be of good cheare (saith Mr. Gilpin) thou shalt never pay me for him till I demand it, in the meane while goe on with thy worke. Yea, and many a time as he travailed was he accustomed thus to help poore men. When at any time he chanced to meete any naked poore, he would put off part of his

apparrell to cover their nakednesse: and at his table he vsually fed many poore persons. When that blessed Queene Elizabeth of never dying memory after the dire∣full times of her sisters Raigne came to the Crowne, the scarsity of learned men who were able to preach the word of God, mooved not onely many religious per∣sons, but even the very Counsell of the Queene to seeke a salue for this sore by all the meanes they could. Mr. Gilpin observing the laudable endeavours of many in re∣lieving the Churches want in this kinde, himselfe also was exceeding studious to doe what good he could possibly in his owne charge. Whereupon he began to conceiue thoughts of a seminary of good literature▪ or a Grammer-schoole; and builded a schoole allowing main∣tenance for a Master and Vsher. Himselfe also made choice out of the same schoole of such as he liked••best to be privately instructed by himselfe. Which resolution of his much benefited Mr. Gilpnn himselfe, and the whole Church of God all England over. For in that schoole of his were bred very many learned men, who very much graced the Church by their indeavours and vprightnesse of life. There was great resort of schollers to that schoole of his, many of whom were boorded in the towne, and many at Mr. Gilpins house. He boorded the sonnes of Knights and Esquires at a small rate: those who were of his kindred were free: yea and he had ma∣ny poore, mens sonnes vpon whom he bestowed both meate, and drinke, and cloth, and education. Whereby Mr. Gilpins schoole was every where spoken of to his credit, but himselfe much more. Out of this schoole of his he sent daily very many to both Vniversities, vnto di∣vers whereof he also allowed maintenance in the Vni∣versity at his owne cost and charges. And now while he was wholly taken vp with these imployments, glory and reputation which followeth him that flyeth from it, and flyeth from him that had pursued it, had made the name of Mr. Gilpin most renowned, insomuch that he was

vvas not onely honoured among the Fathers of the Clergy, but amongst all the Nobility of the Kingdome. Amongst the Nobles at Court the Earle of Bedford vvas one that marvelously respected Mr. Gilpin. This Earle earnestly desired of the Queene that the Bishoprick of Carlile, at that time vacant vpon the death of Owen Ogle∣thorpe, should be bestovved vpon Mr. Gilpin, and obtai∣ned it. And thereupon the Earle dispatcheth his letters to Mr. Gilpin to gather that povver of election vvhich is termed Congedes••ier. Mr. Gilpin receiving the letters together vvith the Congedeslier, sent back a messenger out of hand vvith letters to the Earle, vvherein having returned all hearty tha••kes to the Queene, and to the Earle, he humbly beseecheth the Earle to be mediatour to the Queene for him, and to get him excused as concer∣ning the Bishoprick, alledging that he was best acquain∣ted with his owne strength, and conscious to himselfe of his owne insufficiency for the discharge of so great a place: if in the meane-while he could be any other way serviceable to the Church, he would be diligent and care∣full in some meaner imployment. At that time was Ed∣win Sandes Bishop of Worcester, a man venerable for his approved wisdome, learning, and holinesse of life, who vvas aftervvards translated to London, and thence to Yorke. This Bishop hapned to be in London at the same time when the Earle of Bedford was busy about the pre∣ferring of Mr. Gilpin to a Bishoprick: and he, either by the persuasion of the Earle, or out of the intire loue which he bore to Mr. Gilpin, (for he was neere a kin vn∣to him) dispatched letters to Mr. Gilpin, whereby he persuadeth him to accept of, and to keep the Bishoprick thus offered. The Letter was found amongst Mr. Gilpins papers in these words.

MY much and worthily respected Coozen, having regard vnto the good of the Church of Christ, ra∣ther then to your ease, I haue by all the good meanes I

could beene carefull to haue this charge imposed vpon you, which may be both an honour to your selfe, and a benefit to the Church of Christ. My true report concer∣ning you hath so prevailed with the Queenes Maiesty that she hath nominated you Bishop of Carlile. I am not ignorant that your inclination rather delighteth in the peaceable tranquility of a private life. But if you looke vpon the estate of the Church of England with a respe∣ctiue eye, you cannot with a good conscience refuse this charge imposed vpon you: so m••ch the lesse, because it is in such a place, as wherein no man is found fitter then your selfe to deserue well of the Church. In which re∣spect I charge you before God, and as you shall answer to God herein, that setting all excuses aside, you refuse not to assist your Country, and to doe service to the Church of God to the vttermost of your power. In the meane while I giue you to vnderstand that the said Bishoprick is to be left vnto you vntouched, neither shall any thing of it be diminished (as in some others it is a custome) but bou shall receiue the Bishopricke entire as Doctor Oglethorp hath left it. Wherefore exhorting and charg∣ing you to be obedient to Gods call herein, and not to neglect the duty of your owne calling, I commend both yourselfe and the whole businesse of the divine provi∣dence. In hast▪ At London, the fourth day of Aprill, 1560.

Your kinsman and Brother, EDVVIN WORCESTER.

Mr. Gilpin returneth thankes to the reverend Bishop his kinseman. But as touching the Bishoprick, he desireth to be excused, and in that resolution he became vnmooueable. And many there were who thought him blameworthy because he had so stiffely reiected a Bisho∣prick. But amongst some Mr. Gilpins reputation seemed to grow greater by this refusall, then if he had accep∣ted the offer. I remember that I my selfe haue heard him

discoursing amongst his friends touching this occasion, when one of them asked him vpon what grounds he had so stiffely refused a Bishoprick: to whom he made an∣swer, that he refused not so much the Bishopricke, as the inconvenience of the place. For (saith he) if I had beene chosen in this kinde to any Bishopricke elsewhere I would not haue refused it, but in that place I haue beene willing to avoide the trouble of it, seeing I had there many of my freinds and kindred, at whom I must conniue in many thinges, not without hurt to my selfe, or else deny them many thinges not without offence to them: which difficulties I haue easily avoided by refu∣sall of that Bishopricke.

Vpon this refusall of Mr. Gilpins, Doctor Iohn B••st a learned and religious man was made choice of for the place: but whether he had it conferred vpon him vpon the same termes at it was proffered to Mr. Gilpin, that no diminution should be made of any part thereof that I know not. Not long after this his refusall of that Bi∣shoprick, he was set vpon by another request, to witt, that he would take vpon him to be Provost of Queenes Colledge, in Oxford, wherevnto he was chosen, or at least he would be pleased to nominate som other for that place who might be a good and fitting man for the same. There was a letter written vnto him by Thomas Francies to this purpose.

COmmendations premised &c. Seeing I haue a resolu∣tion to relinquish this place which I now hould in Queens Colledge in Oxford, being heartily desirous that some vertuous, godly, and learned man, and such a one as by the statutes of the Colledge shall be fit, may bee chosen to the place, I haue thought good once more to to make a tender of the same vnto you: which if it shall please you to accept I shall be ready vpon the receit of your letters to that purpose to advertise the Fellowes thereof, whom I know to be marvailously well incli∣ned

towards you. But if so great a trouble with so small a maintenance (for so I may truely terme this bur∣then) doe no•• giue you content, I intreat your aduice and direction as a friend to nominate me a man vnto whom I may resigne the place, such an one as your selfe shall know to be a man fitting; and one who may and ought to be chosen. I shall gladly be directed by you so scone as I shall vnderstand your mind by your letters▪ which I pray you be carefull to send me wi••h all conve∣nient speed. In hast from Oxford the 17 of December. 1561.

What answer Mr. Gilpin returned to this message, I doe not finde, but it is manifest that he refused the off∣er of that preferment. For against all the intreaties of friends in these kindes, he remained constant and vn∣mouable, as the Poet spoke of King Latinus.

I lle vel••t pelagi rupes immo••ar••sistit.

Mooved no more Then Rocke on shore.

ANd all this while Mr. Gilpin seemed even to supply the place of a Bishop by preaching, by taking care of the poore, and by making provision for the necessity of other Churches, by erecting of schooles, and by ac∣commodating men learned and fitting for the holy fun∣ction of the Ministry. As for Mr. Gilpins house it was like vnto a very Monastery, if a man consider a Mona∣stery such as were those in the times or Saint Augustine, but not such as these latter ages haue brought forth.

William Lord Cecill Baron of Burghtey principall Se∣cretary to the Queene being sent into Scotland about aff∣aires of State, in his returne homewards being drawne with the fame of Mr. Gilpin, came to Houghton, and visited him. Mr. Gilpin▪ entertayneth him with all re∣spects and due rites of hospitallity. When the Lord Ce∣ci•••• had well observed Mr. Gilpin, and had approoved the extraordinary curtesie of the man, and had tooke no∣tice

of such dilligence, and abundance of all things with so compleat service in the entertainment of so great a stranger, and so vnlooked for a guest, being now ready to depart thence, he spoke on this wise: that he had heard much be the report of others touching Mr. Gilpin, but what he now had seene and tried was much more then that which he had formerly heard. Therefore speaking in very friendly manner to Mr. Gilpin, he said: Sir, if you haue any occasion or suite at Court or before the Counsell, I pray you to make vse of me as a mediator for you.

The honourable Baron being returned towards Dur∣ham, when he came to the hill called Rai••ton hill, re∣flecting his eye vpon the whole champion Country which he had now passed, he looked backe very ear∣nestly both vpon Mr. Gilpins house and the scituation thereof; and vseth these words, I doe not blame this man (saith he) for refusing a Bishopricke: for what doth he want that a Bishopricke could more enrich him withall? Besides that he is free from the greater waight of cares. Mr. Gilpin did not omit to visite the people of Ridsdale and Tindal•• once every yeare. Amongst whom he was esteemed a very Prophet, and little lesse then adored by that halfe barbarous & rusti••k people. It happened by chance that whiles Mr. Gilpin preacht a∣mongst them, a certaine good-fellow had stolne away Mr. Gilpins horses: vpon the missing whereof, there is Hue and Cry raised through the Country, that Mr. Gilpins horses were stolne, and must be searched for with all possible diligence. The fellow who had stolne them so soone as he heare that they were Mr. Gilpins horses (for he knew not whose they were when he took them away) was in great feare and trembling. The theft did not much trouble his conscience, but when he heard the name of Mr. Gilpin, it cast hin into trouble and distraction of heart. Therefore in much trembling, and with all the speede he could he brought backe Mr. Gil∣pins

horses, and humly craved the pardon and benedic∣tion of Father Gilpin: and protested that after it came to his knowledge that they were Mr. Gilpins horses he was afraid to be thrust downe quicke into Hell, if hee should doe him any wrong.

Vppon a time when Mr. Gilpin was in these parts at a towne called Rothbury, there was a pestilent facti∣on amongst some of them who were wont to resort to that Church. The men being bloodily minded practi∣sed a bloody manner of revenge, termed by them Dead∣ly-feod. If the faction on the one side did perhaps come to the Church, the other side kept away because they were not accustomed to meet to gether without blood∣shed. Now so it was that when Mr. Gilpin was in the pulpit in that Church, both parties came to Church in the presence of Mr. Gilpin; and both of them stood, the one of them in the vpper part of the Church, or Chan∣cell, the other in the body thereof armed with swords and iavelins in their hands. Mr. Gilpin somewhat moved with this vnaccustomed spectacle goeth on neverthe∣lesse in his Sermon: and now a second time their weap∣ons make a clashing sound, and the one side drew neerer to the other, so that they were in danger to fall to blowes in the middest of the Church. Herevpon Mr. Gilpin com∣meth downe from the pulpit, and stepping to the ring∣leaders of either faction, first of all he appeased the tu∣mult. Next, he labowreth to establishe peace betwixt them, but he could not prevaile in that: onely they pro∣mised to keepe the peace vnbroken so long as Mr. Gilpin should remaine in the Church. Mr. Gilpin seeing he could not vtterly extinguish the hatred which was now inve∣terate betwixt them, desired them that yet they would forbeare hostility so long as he should remaine in those quarters: and this they consented vnto. Mr. Gilpin therevpon goeth vp into the pulpit againe (for he had not made an end of his Sermon) and spent the rest of the allotted time which remained in in disgracing that bar∣barous

and bloody custome of theirs, and (if it were possible) in the vtter banishing of it for ever. So often as Mr. Gilpin came into those parts afterwardes, if any man amongst them stood in feare of a deadly foe, he resorted vsually where Mr. Gilpin was, supposing himselfe more safe in his company, then if he went with a guard.

Vpon a certaine Lords-day Mr. Gilpin comming to a Church in those parts before the people were assembled, and walking vp and down therein espied a gloue hanged on high in the Church. Wherevpon he demanded of the Sexton, what should be the meanning thereof, and wherefore it hanged in that place? The Sexton maketh answer that it was a gloue of one of the Parish who had hanged it vp there as a challenge to his enemy, signifi∣ing thereby that he was ready to enter combate with his enemy hand to hand, or with any one else who should dare to take downe that challenge. Mr. Gilpin request∣ed the Sexton by some meanes or other to take it down. Not I Sir, (replied the Sexton) I dare doe no such thing. But (said Mr. Gilpin) if thou wilt but bring me hither a long staffe, I will take it downe my selfe: and so when a long stafe was brought, Mr. Gilpin tooke downe the gloue and put it vp in his bosom. By and by came the people to Church in abundance, and Mr. Gilpin when he saw his time went vp into the pulpit: In his Sermon ••e took occasion to reprooue these in huma••e challenges, and rebuked them sharpely for that custome which they had of making challenges by the hanging vp of a gloue, I heare saith he, that there is one amongst you, who even in this sacred place hath hanged vp a gloue to this pur∣pose, & threatneth to enter into combate with whosoe∣ver shall take it downe. Behold, I haue taken it downe my selfe, and at that word plucking out the gloue shewed it openly, and then instructed them how vnbeseeming those barbarous conditions were for any man that pro∣fessed himselfe a Christian, and so laboured to perswade them to a reconciliation, and to the practise of mutuall

loue and charity amongst themselues. After his Sermon it was his custome to distribute money amongst the poorer sorte, and many times to visit them who were im¦prisoned, and after he had preached vnto them in pri∣son to bestow money largely amongst the prisoners: many of whom hee brought home to repentance for their former passed life, and to honest conversation: and for many who were condemned to die he procured par∣don, and saued their liues.

When we were children a rebellion was raised in the North by the Earles of Northumberland and Cumberland. Which Mr, Gilpin perceiued before hand by certaine evident signes. And because he vnderstood that in so trouble-some a time he should want power to defend himselfe and his owne, he conceived thoughts of going aside for a while. Therefore after a speech made to the Maisters and Schollers that they should demeane them∣selues carefully and peaceably vntill his returne, himselfe went to Oxford: residing there vntill the Queens Army vnder the command of the Earle of Suff••x should make speed to Durham for discomfiture of the rebels. The rebels were now within Durham, but at the report of the Queens Army they dispersed themselues and fled. After they were put to flight, there was sharpe and cru∣ell proceedings against the simpler sort, whom the re∣bels had drawne to their faction vnder pretence of seru∣ing the Queene: for the silly people were sollicited as for the Queenes service, the rebels in all places giuing it out that they stood for the Queene. During the time that the rebels had possession of Durham with their Ar∣my, Masse was sung in the Cathedrall Church day by day; some of them flew out as farre as Houghton. There they found Mr. Gilpi••s barnes full of corne, young cat∣tell ready fatted, and many things provided for hospita∣litie: but they make wast of all, selling the corne, con∣suming the fatted ware, and basely making havocke of all those things which Mr. Gilpin had provided for pi∣ous

and honest vses. There was among them one fel∣ow whom Mr. Gilpin had sometimes saued from the gallowes, and this knaue was the wickedest of all the rest in rioting away Mr. Gilpins goods. Now after the re∣bels were dispersed, & proceeding made against the sim∣ple people somewhat more sharply then was fitting, Sir George Bowes, who was constituted marshall for that purpose, Mr. Gilpin who was now come home againe begged the liues of many by his intercession: for hee knew well enough that many men were drawne as it were into the snare, not wilfully, but through ignorance, and through the fraudulent practises of others. And now the whole trouble being over, Mr. Gilpin returneth to his accustomed indeavours of studies and charity. There was betwixt the most learned and reverend Iames Pil∣kington then Bishop of Durham, and Mr. Gilpin more then ordinary friendship through their long acquaintanc and pari••ie of dispositions. The Bishop was wont of∣tentimes to visitt Mr. Gilpins at his house, and the Bi∣shop also incited the rather by Mr. Gilpins example buil∣ded a schoole at Lancester, and brought the statutes of the schoole to be over looked and examined by Mr. Gil∣pin. He vvas also familiarly acquainted vvith, and mar∣vaylously respected Thomas Levery a godly and learned man master of Sherborn-hospital. There vvas at that time, published a booke of Thomas Cartwrights touching Ec∣clesiasticall discipline vvhich booke vvas exceedingly li∣ked by many in those dayes. William Bir••h a Canon of Durham, a man learned, but too hastily inclining to that forme of discipline vvhich Cartwright had proposed sent one of these bookes to Mr. Gilpin to read over; re∣questing him to looke over the booke, and that he vvould be pleased to vvrit backe his opinion concerning the same. Birch seemed to be somevvhat in hast vpon the matter: for very shortly after he vvrote againe to Mr. Gilpin, requesting him to send over his book vvith his censure of it, before M. Gilpin had read it all over.

Mr. Gilpin did accordingly send backe the booke, and a letter to Mr. Birch, and as he had an excellent veine in versifying, in the end of his letter he wrote certaine ver∣ses, which are these that follow,

Multa quidem legi, sed plura legenda reliqui, Po••••hac qu••m dabit••r copi••, cuncta legam: Op••ant vt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ma••••lis Ecclesi•• cunctis, Praesens vit•• negat: vita futura dabit.

Which verses of his I haue thus Englished,

Much haue I read, but more remaines behind, I'le read the rest when I can leasure finde: Men wish our Church no blemish had at all, It cannot be so heere, in heauen it shall.

THere came vnto Mr. Gilpin a certaine Cambridge man, who seemed a very great Scholler, and hee dealt earnestly with Mr. Gilpin touching the discipline and reformation of the Church. Mr. Gilpin tould him that he could not allowe that an human invention should take place in the Church in stead of a divine institution. And how? Doe you thinke, saith the man that this forme of discipline is an human invention? I am, saith Mr. Gilpin, altogether of that mind. And as many as dilligently turned over the writings of the auncient fa∣thers will be of mine opinion. I suspect that forme of discipline which appeareth not to haue beene received in any auncient Church. But yet, saith the man, latter men doe see many things which those auncient fathers sawe not: and the present Church seemeth better provided of many ingenious and industrious men. Mr. Gilpin see∣med somewhat moved at that word, and replyed: I for my part do not hould the vertues of the latter men wor∣thy to be compared to the infirmities of the fathers. The other man made answer that hee supposed Mr. Gilpin to be in an errour in that point. But Mr. Gilpin vsed these words purposely because he perceived that this fellow had a strong conceit of I know not what rare

vertues in himselfe, which opinion Mr. Gilpin was de∣sirous to roote out of him. George Gilpin who had most elegantly translated out of low Dutch into English the booke of Phillip Marnixius Earle of Aldegun•• called the Beehiue of the Romane Church came out of the low Countries vnto Bernard. This man was brother to Bernard and Agent for the Queene with the States of Holland, amongst whom he left behind him a famous memory of himselfe for his singular wisdome. And hauing liued for some space most louingly with his bro∣ther Bernard being about to returne from Holland, he had advised with the Queene and Councell of the Kingdome touching the affaires which he had to treat vpon with the States in the Queenes name. The Earles of Leice∣ster and Bedford exceedingly favored the two brothers, George for his wisdome in affaires of state, and Bernard for his holinesse of life. These requested George to per∣swade his brother Bernard to declare in wrighting the motiues and meanes of his conversion from the Romane superstition to the light of the Gospell. To which re∣quest Mr. Gilpin answered that he would do it plainely and sincerely without any dissimulation. The copy of his letter to that purpose I found among his papers to be thus.

The letter of Bernard Gilpin to his brother George in the yeare of our Lord 1575.

YOu doe request (brother) that I should relate vnto you somewhat at large the manner and meanes of my conversion from superstition to the light of the Gos∣pell: a thing, which I suppose, is not vnknowne vnto you to haue beene a worke of many yeares: neverthe∣lesse as time and health shall giue leaue I will conceale

nothing from you herein. I will confesse mine owne shame to the confusion of the Divell; I will say with the Apostle, 1 Tim. 1. 13. I was received to mercy, for I did it ignorantly. In the dayes of King Edward I was drawne to dispute against certaine positions of Peter Martirs: howbeit out of a naturall inclination I haue alwayes so farre as I could avoided controversies and disputations. And when I was but a young Divine, and had found out by holding that disputation that the foundation where to I trusted was not so solid as I formerly supposed it, I thereupon began somewhat seriously to read over the Scriptures and writings of the Fathers, that I might con∣firme my selfe in my received opinions. But God freed my minde from that preiudicate conceit by little and lit∣tle, and the zeale which I had for the Popish religion be∣gan to coole in me every day more and more. But on the other side I felt certaine sparkling desires which vr∣ged me to search out the truth. In the meane while I repaired to the Bishop of Durham, that I might be fur∣ther instructed; who tolde me, that in the matter of Transubstantiation, Innocentius the Pope the third of that name had done vnadvisedly, seeing he had made it an Article of faith. And he did further confesse that the Pope had committed a great fault in that touching Indul∣gences and other things he had taken no better order for the quiet of the Church. Afterwards I conferred with Doctor Redman, in whom I reposed much hope in re∣gard of his eminent vertues, and great schollership. He affirmed vnto me that the booke of Common Prayer, was an holy booke▪ and agreeable to the Gospell. These things cast me into many distractiue thoughts. After this one of the fellowes of Queenes Colledge in Oxford told me that he heard Doctour Chedsey saying among his friends, that it must come to this point, that the Prote∣stants must grant vs a reall presence of Christ in the Sa∣crament, and we likewise giue way vnto them in the o∣pinion of Transubstantiation, and so we shall accord.

Doctor Weston made a long Oration touching the Supper of the Lord to bee administred vnder both kindes. Mr. Morgan tolde me that Doctor War•• a man most fa∣mous for life and learning had affirmed vnto him that the principall sacrifice of the Church of God was the sa∣crifice of thanksgiving. This was his answer when I had demanded of him what could be said for the sacri∣fice of the Masse. The most learned Bishops in this King∣dome at that time confuted the primacy of the Pope both in words and writing.

Mr. Harding being newly returned home out of Ita∣ly, in a long and famous oration so plainly set out and painted to the life the Friers and vnlearned Bishops, who had met at the Councell of Trent in their greene gownes, that it abated in me and in very many others a great deale of that opinion and confidence which we had reposed in Generall Councels.

These things and many others gaue me occasion dili∣gently to search the Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers: whence I had began to obserue very many and very great abuses, and some enormities oftentimes vsed, and as oft defended in Popery, and to iudge reformation necessary on the other part. Whiles I went on in this manner, I was overruled by the persuasions of some friends to accept of a Parsonage; whereunto I was drawne against my will. If I offended God in vndertaking the charge before I was a more sufficient scholler, and better grounded in Religion, I aske God forgiuenesse. Nor doe I doubt but I haue obtained mercy in his sight. Before I was entred vpon that Parsonage I preacht be∣fore King Edward at Greenwich a Sermon which had ap∣probation of many good men.

The Lord Treasurer being at that time Secretary ob∣tained for me from the King licence as a generall Prea∣cher throughout the Kingdome so long as the King lived which time fell out to be not much aboue the space of halfe a yeare after. In my Sermons I handled those points

wherein I was best grounded, and wherein I was vn∣doubtedly resolved o••t of the Scriptures. I examined the Masse; and the abuse so farre as I was able to obserue at that time consisted in the too much reverence, and grosser worship of the people; because I beleeved not Transubstantiation. Neverthelesse at some times I read Masse, but seldome and privately. Then was I forth∣with sent beyond the Seas that I might oversee the prin∣ti••g of my Lord Bishop Tonstall his booke touching the Eucharist, with two or three books more as you know, at Antwerp: where I beheld for the space of three yeares at Paris, Antwerp, and L••va••n••, and in some other places very grosse Idolatry. This thing did more and more e∣strange me from the Popish religion: most of all because the learneder Papists did in their disputations in schooles deny, the adoration of images, yet allowed the intolera∣ble abuse thereof in their Churches. And now whiles with all earnestnesse I advised with the holy Scriptures, and writings of the Fathers, I observed many things alienated mine heart from the Popish Church. I obser∣ved in that Church notable corruptions of the doctrine of the Bible, many things in the Sacraments instituted a∣gainst Scripture, some Sacraments lately added: In the Sacrament of the Supper the one halfe taken away: the fiction of Transubstantiation brought in: traditions of the Church made equall to the word of God, and to the holy Scriptures, and to be imbraced with the same pious affection: the worship of Images brought into the Church: all things performed in the Church before the people in an vnknowne language: but aboue all the rest the question concerning Antichrist troubled me most, because it seemed not to me a safe thing to make a sepe∣ration from the Popish Church, except I were first fully resolved that the Pope is Antichrist: and in this point I cannot easily expresse with how many difficulties and distractions I was daily opposed. Afterwards I was sent for home againe by the Bishop, who conferred vpon me

the Rectory of Essi••••don: where when I had indeavou∣red to be constant in preaching, I observed that I had vp∣on a sodaine procured to my selfe many and heavy ene∣mies thereby: for I had preached against plurality of Be∣nefices, and Non-residency. Mine adversaries cryed out that all such as broached that doctrine would prooue he∣reticks quickly. Others were much displeased with me for that I had preached repentance & salvation by Christ. They laid to my charge that I did not make whole Ser∣mons about Transubstantiation, Purgatory, Holy water, the worshipping of Images, the invocation of Saints, and the like; which they could never heare come from me. And by how much the people were more ear∣nest to resort to my Sermons, so much the more ea∣gerly they tooke offence at mee and hated mee. A very small matter brought me into danger. An honest Matron, because in her pangs of childbirth she had often called vpon God, was grievously checked by the other good women, because she had not called vpon the bles∣sed Virgin. To whom she made answer: I haue heard▪ (saith she) a certaine famous Preacher, one Gilpin, a man that came lately out of France, if he will advise me to call vpon the Saints, I will take his counsell in that point. I tolde them that I durst not persuade any one to invo∣cate the Saints, but that those who call onely vpon God for help in all their da••gers, haue a commandement from God so to doe, and a firme promise for the infallible com∣forting of their conscience. This occasion stirred me vp many foes. In the meane while I often conversed wit•• learned men, my very loving friends and kindred. I de∣manded how it came to paste that there was no refor∣mation of so many abuses touching Images, Reliques, Pilgrimages, buying and selling of Masses and Trentalls, with many other errours which in the time of King Ed∣ward the Papists had not onely confessed to be superstiti∣ous, but had promised reformation of them▪ and profes∣sed that it was meete the Church should be purged of

them: which thing they said they would gladly doe, if ever the power came into their hands againe. When I asked of them in which of these points reformation should begin, in expectation of which thing I returned from Paris the more willingly, answer was made vnto me, that no way m••st be given to the ignorant multi∣tude. If (say they) we once confesse any errours at all, they will straightway cry out that many other things also are worthy to be reformed, besides those which we shall yeeld vnto them, and so they will be still growing vpon vs, that we shall never haue done reforming. These things wounded me grievously, and draue me to seeke out for peace of conscience. After these things, having preached two or three Sermons at Newcastle, I began to explaine my conscience more at large, where there were gathered twelue or thirteene Articles against me, and sent to the Bishop. And now had mine adversaries of the Clergy whom I had grievously provoked, obtained what they had long looked for. Nor would they giue o∣ver vntill the Bishop had called me before their faces, to examine me in the point of the Sacrament. The Bishop shewed me as much favour, I suppose, as he durst. In Transubstantiation he would not trouble me, onely he inquired concerning the reall presence, which I granted, and so was freed out of that danger. And as touching the reall presence, I found not my selfe fully resolved. I sup∣posed that therein lay hid a mystery aboue my capacity. Neverthelesse my conscience did sometimes chide me, for that I had before them yeelded in expresse words to a point which seemed vnto me doubtfull. But I hoped that God would pardon mine ig••orance, and in time bring me to a greater light of knowledge.

The winter following Q••eene Mary departed this life, and then I had begun to explaine my minde more fully. For before that time (for I must needes confesse the truth) weaknesse, ignorance, and the terrours of mine adversaries had somewhat restrained me. About Easter

I was accused to the Bishop vpon many Articles, both out of the Diocesse of Yorke, and of Durham, all which things neverthelesse hurt me no further then thus, that the Bishop incited thereto by the complaints of mine adversaries struck my name out of his last Will and Te∣stament, forasmuch as the Plebeians and ordinary sort of people were extremely offended with me. Now I in that I lost the Bishops Exequutorship found my selfe ea∣sed of a great burthen, and was glad thereof. But as for the favour of the multitude, I hoped in time through the goodnesse of God to recover it againe, that my preach∣ing might profit the more to edification, for otherwise I never desired the loue of the vulgar. In harvest came the visitors, and Doctor Sandes sent for me to Aukland, and appointed me both time and place to preach against the primacy of Durham. But he himselfe preaching the day before, whiles he seemed vtterly to deny a reall pre∣sence, had so wounded my tender conscience, that the night following I could not sleep at all; and I was much troubled in my minde, whether I should preach the next day or not. At the last I went almost out of my bed into the pulpit, where, I know not how it happened, whe∣ther it was through my disquiet of conscience, or want of sleep, or in that I had offended God to goe vp against my conscience, but me thought I did never feele such a want of vtterance, and yet in my iudgement I had pro∣vided matter enough, and waighty reasons. The next day all the Ministers in the Diocesse were met to subscribe. Now so it was that in a point or two of the Articles my conscience did not appeare to me so well resolved, as I could haue wished. Therefore I stept a little out of the way hoping that I might escape from being called. But when my Curate came to the booke, who, I supposed, would never haue stood at it by reason of some discourse I had formerly with him, he withdrew himselfe as vn∣willing to subscribe; and thereupon I was called for, and the booke held out vnto me; when straightwayes I had

these thoughts in my selfe: My greatest confidence is reposed in this religion, because it giveth glory to God, and authority to the word of God for the rooting out of superstition, and humane doctrines. Onely mine heart doubted in certaine points of smaller consequence, which God (as •• hope) shall in time reveale vnto me. If I shall refuse, I shall be a meanes to make many others to refuse, and so consequently hinder the course of the word of God. Therefore I subscribed, and the night fol∣lovving I sent vnto Doctor Sandes my protestation tou∣ching those tvvo points vvhich had troubled me. He be∣ing nothing offended tooke my protestation very cour∣teously: so my Curate subscribed also, and the day fol∣lovving fell sicke. And vvhiles I vvas gone along vvith the visitors to Kendall and Lancaster, he dyed before my returne having not beene sicke a whole weeke. Some supposed that subscription killed his heart, others said his infirmity proceeded from excessiue drinking, God onely knoweth what was the cause of his death. In pro∣cesse of time, me thought I grew more and more streng∣thened and resolved: but I will confesse the truth, I had many and grievous temptations, which would not let me sleepe for many nights, and draue me betwixt slee∣ping and waking into such dreames, as I think few men ever had the like. My nature did ever desire to avoid controversies. My chiefest com••ort and indeavour was to preach Christ, and salvation through Christ plainly and sincerely, and to comfort my selfe in the most sweet promises of holy Scripture, and in pouring out my pray∣ers to God. The insatiable covetousnesse that could be restrained by no bounds of temperance and moderation, together with the pride and carnall liberty, and other vi∣ces of the same ranke, which raigned among all sorts and degrees of people, but most of all in vs the Priests and Ministers, who ought to be as we are termed, the Salt of the earth, haue oftentimes broke my sleepes. But reco∣vering I quieted my selfe in God, saying, surely how

much more the iniquity of men doth abound, of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the more glorious shall God appeare in purging, sancti∣fying, and preserving his elect people in the midst of a froward generation. I was ever sollicitous and wary ei∣ther in subscriptions or oathes not to be catched in a trap. It appeared enough to me, and su••ficient for the Doctours of the Church, that all men were satisfied in the Scriptures and the Articles of the faith. In other things as they are agreeable to Scripture: because the holy Scripture ought to holde soveraigne place and pre∣heminency aboue all the writings of all men. I remem∣ber when I went to be admitted into Orders by the Bi∣shop of Oxford▪ that the Bishops Chaplaine did admini∣ster an oath vnto vs that we should allow the Ordinati∣ons already made, or hereafter to be made. Touching which oath when he considered somewhat seriously what it was to oblige our selues to ordinations to come, concerning which we could resolue vpon nothing, these things not only much distracted me, but troubled nine or ten more, who were sworne with me, men farre better schollers then my selfe. For my part •• resolved to be sworne to no writings but with this exception, so farre onely as they are agreeable to the word of God. Now, how much it distressed my minde that an oath should be exacted in doubtfull ca••es, I haue explain••d in another discourse for the quiet of my conscience. And this I may boldly say, that since •• tooke the ••••urse to explaine mine infirmities by writing, not fearing who tooke notice of them, so that it might benefit my selfe or others, I haue found exceeding peace and quiet of consci••nce, and •• am day by day more edified and consumed by the reading of Scripture. And in this case, •• praise God, that when I found my selfe most distressed and weake my faith in the mercies of God was so firme, as •• assure my selfe, that if at that very instant I should die, yet I haue had a••d doe retaine that confidence, that these distractions could nothing hind••r my salvation. I am resolved with St. P••••l▪

I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 obtained mercy, for I did it ig••orantly; and vvith Iob, Although the Lord kill me, yet will I trust in him. Yet I haue full many a time asked God mercy for these of∣fences, infirmities, ignorances, and all other things, and will ever doe so whiles I shall liue in this world. God be mercifull vnto vs all.

Thus farre Mr. Gilpin.

THou seest (Reader) Mr. Gilpins vpright dealing: He speaketh nothing of his owne vertues, but he is wholly taken vp with the acknowledgement and enu∣meration of his weaknesses. Perhaps some Criticks will laugh at the simplicity of the man, but I herein admire his Apostolick spirit, who after the example of blessed Paul dare not boast of himselfe, but boasteth in his infir∣mities, that Christ may dwell in him. Neverthelesse howsoever he is wholly taken vp with declaration of his owne infirmities, and hath of set purpose spoke no∣thing of his owne vertues, yet this is apparant that he was twice accused by his back-friends to Bishop Ton∣stall in the dayes of Queene Mary: But Bishop Tonstall who abhorred to shed blood was a sweet defence to Mr. Gilpin against the divers informations of his enemies. At the last he was accused to B••nner Bishop of London who gaue order to a Messenger for his apprehension. Mr. Gil∣pin perceived the imminent danger, (for he had notice that a Messenger was dispatched to attach his body) and perceiving the reliefe which he had found in Tonstalls clemency would now faile him, he prepared his holy soule for Martyrdome: commanding William Airy the Steward of his house to provide him a long garment, that he might goe the more comely to the stake. But the sodaine death of Queene Mary freed the man from this danger. After the publication of the Councell of Trent, when by chance there happened some discourse betwixt Mr. Gilpin and Thomas Levery, and Levery had asked the question what Mr. Gilpin thought touching that Coun∣cell:

The Fathers of the Councell of Trent (saith he) haue done the Church a very shrewd turne: for that which was indifferent before times they leaue not so now. I remember that Bishop Tonstall often tolde me that Pope Inn••cent the third had done very vnadvisedly, in that he had made the opinion of Transubstantiation an Article of faith: seeing in former times it was free to holde or refuse that opinion. Moreover the Bishop tolde me that he did not doubt but that himselfe, if he had beene in that Councell, could haue prevailed with the Pope to haue let that businesse alone. And what he iudged concerning Transubstantiation, the same may a man resolue touching all Popery after the publication of the Councel of Trent, for that which was indifferent before, now they doe not suffer so to be. Therefore I suppose that the times of our forefathers though oppres∣sed with much ignorance were happier farre then the ensuing Ages can be vnder the Papists: because they haue now altered in the Councel of Trent many institu∣tions of the auncient Church. For whereas they haue placed a part of the rule of faith in Traditions, that is a thing which was never done in the Church before. Many things which were permitted to be taught in the Church formerly touching Iustification and the Sacra∣ments are not now tolerated. And vpon these occasions the Fathers of the Councel of Trent haue laid vpon other Churches a necessity of making a seperation from the Church of Rome: wherein me thinks that they haue not dealt advisedly: For the Church is thereby distracted into differences and factions, and whatsoever was for∣merly indifferent in doubtfull points, the Fathers of Tren•• haue made it all necessary, and tooke vpon them a very hard taske. There were some Papists, who percei∣ving Mr. Gilpin quite alienated from the Popish religion which he had first beene of in the dayes of his igno∣rance in his youth, tooke many courses to haue recalled him, if they could possibly. Amongst them was one

Thomas Gelthrop a man well descended, and a kinsman of Mr. Gilpins. This man wrote a letter to Mr. Gilpin, where∣in he dealt earnestly with him not to forsake the religion of his forefathers. In that letter Gelthrop amongst other things inserted these words.

You haue a great and a good report both at London and in all other places: And I am of this opinion that either you will doe the Church a great deale of good if you adhere vnto it, or else (which God forbid) you will stirre vp more mischiefe in the Church then ever Arrius did. That sinne aboundeth it is not the fault of the Masse or of the Mattins, but the pernicious doctrine and filthy life of the Clergy and of o∣thers. They haue already reformed the Communion, and haue published a booke of the reformed Leiturgy. But this reformation hath not removed the evill, because we see the people growne farre worse then before.

These things I found out amongst M. Gilpins papers, but I could not possibly get any more out of them, the most of them were so exceeding worne and defaced.

Vnto this letter Mr. Gilpin made answer, which I found entire. The Letter had this superscription.

To his Coozen THOMAS GELTHROP.

And thus it was.

GRace and peace. Your large Letter was brought vnto me, when I had small leisure to answer it, as he can tell you who bringeth back this vnto you. How∣beit I thought it not fit to let him come back without an answer, albeit the conclusion of your letter gaue me small incouragement to write. For who would take the paines to write vnto you, seeing you are fully resolved and determined, as you affirme, never to be perswaded from your opinions by any argument a man can bring? It could not chuse but be a most grieuous thing to the Prophet Ieremy, vvhen he cryed out to the people, Hear the word of the Lord, that they should ansvver vvith a stiffe necke, we will not heare. But let vs leaue these things

to the divine operation, vvhich is able to mollifie your heart, and to open the eares of the deafe Adder that stop∣peth the same against the voice of the charmer, charme he never so wisely. You looke back vpon the ages pas∣sed, you doe well, if also you looke back to the times of the Patriarkes, the Prophets, of Christ, and his Apo∣stles, and other holy men, with whom if you advise without preiudice of blinded affection, they will lead you farre from that blindnesse, from that errour, I may well say, from that grosse idolatry, which crept into the Church while men slept. Whereas you are grieved at the fall of Monasteries and suppression of Abbeys, I am sory you should be blinded in this case. For very many of your owne religion haue confessed that they could not possibly subsist any longer, because the cry of them like the cry of Sodome was ascended into the eares of God. Their Sodomiticall crimes were so manifest that they could not be longer concealed, the Lord could indure those wicked men no longer. But if you call to minde what enemies those men were to the Ministry of the word of God, taking away most sacrilegiously the main∣tenance allowed for the Ministers of the word, hardly leaving in the most Countries any one Rectory vnspoi∣led, you would easily iudge that those men could not possibly stand and flourish any longer. This is the fruit of Luthers doctrine, and the whole word of God truely preached, that God shall destroy that wicked one with the breath of his mouth.

Whereas you say that he which commeth to God must belieue, I wish you would consider that thing right∣ly, that faith and religion can never finde peace and quiet but in the sacred word of God. Faith commeth by hea∣ring, and hearing by the word of God. Whence it com∣meth that whoso beleeveth in Buls, Indulgences, Images, and many other vaine constitutions of men cannot possi∣bly haue true faith. All those things vanish away, where∣soever the word of God hath power and authority. That

rest which you say that you finde in the Church of Rome your Catholick Church forsooth, if you take not the better heed, will vndoubtedly faile you in your greatest necessity. You say that you doe not finde in that religion any thing opposite to the Gospell. But if you looke nar∣rowly into it, you may see in that religion the word of God reiected, the golden Legends and Festivalls, with Bulls, Indulgences, and many other things of that sort for the most part obtruded vpon men in stead of the word of God. But here is a large field and I want leisure. I hope I shall get opportunity to write vnto you more at large concerning these things. God open your eyes that you may see the abomination of that Citty which is built vpon seven hills: Apoc 17. Looke over Hierome vpon that place. If in that Church the Sacraments be corrupted, will you reiect the grace of God when he o∣peneth the eyes of his servants to reforme these corrup∣tions? Beware of that fearefull sentence of Saint lohn: He that is filthy let him be filthy still. You alledge that if you should now begin to drink of another cup, &c. quite forgetting that in the Church of Rome your selfe and all other Laymen are vtterly excluded from the cup, con∣trary to the manifest commandement of God, Drinke ye all of this. Your learnedest Doctors of Lovaine with ma∣ny others were not able to defend so great an abuse of the Supper. If you call vs hereticks, and fly from vs, because we haue forsaken so great abuses, superstitions and er∣rours, to the end that we might draw neere to the sacred word of God, and holy institutions of Christ, we can appeale from your vncharitable preiudice, and are able to say with Saint Paul, I little esteeme to be iudged of you, it is the Lord which iudgeth me.

But you alledge that it is a perillous thing to heare our Sermons. So said the persequ••tours of Saint Stephen, Act. 7. and stopped their eares. So spoke Amazia touching Amos the Prophet, Amos. 7. The land is not able to beare all his words. Like vnto which are those whom

David compareth to the deafe Adder which stoppeth her eares, Psal. 58. Like vnto whom were many in the time of the Apostles vnto whom the Gospell was hid, in whom the God of this world hath blinded the minds of vnbelievers, that the light of the Gospell should not shine vpon them. Touching those Romane thunder∣claps there is no great cause why we should be afraid, those bugbeares were invented to affright children, they are not to be feared by men of years. Erasmus calleth them Brutafulmina, foolish false-fires. If there were in the Pope and his Cardinalls who curse vs with so much bitternesse but the least resemblance of Peter and Paul; had they the servent charity of those holy men, and their exquisite diligence to feed the flocke of Christ day and night, with other Apostolick vertues: then were their threats to be feared: but they haue changed the humi∣lity of Peter into the pride of Lucifer, the poverty and daily labours of the Apostles into the riches of Cresus, and into the lazinesse and luxury of Sardanapalus. To co••clude, what agreement is there betwixt light and darknesse. God hath promised in the second of Mala∣chy, that he will curse their blessings, or turne their bles∣sings into curses, who consider not in their hearts to giue glory vnto his name. See Hierom vpon the third of E∣say: Those which call you blessed, seduce you: How many thousands of men are seduced by Indulgences, which are extended to many thousands of years, if the price be according? The world seeth and is grieved to beholde how the brothers of Saint Iohns Hospitall, had granted licences to those who had laid violent hands vp∣on themselues to enioy the buriall of other Christians with many such like flattering fictions. As touching the life of your grandmother, I never heard bur well; but I suppose she was a superstitious woman. If she kept you at home with her out of her tender▪ and naturall affection onely, and not to prevent your knowledge of the Gos∣pell, I shall desire pardon for my mistaking. Yet many

men are persuaded that she and your vncles withheld both from your selfe and your sisters a great part of the portion which was left vnto you. But let these things passe, seeing I haue not beene able to effect, nor haue ef∣fected as yet any thing for you, that money which was given to me by legacy, I will bestow vpon your sister, if it please her, with some addition also, because I am per∣suaded she hath more need of it. As concerning the Ca∣tholick Church, God is my witnesse, that it is the whole desire of mine heart, and mine assured confidence, that I shall die a member of it. But if I shall be so farre misled by the pompous outside of the Church of Rome, as to ap∣prooue those intollerable abuses, superstitions, and ido∣latries, which so many wayes rob God of his honour, I should not believe my selfe a member of Iesus Christ. If you approoue of none interpretation of Scriptures, but what proceeds from Rome, you may easily affirme whatsoever you please. There is nothing so absurd, or so contrary to the truth of the eternall God, which may not be wrested by their corrupt glosses, as it may seeme to serue to a wicked cause. With such kinde of men is no disputation to be held. As for that which you inferre touching Arrius, and the rest of that ranke, it is nothing to the purpose. For all the writings of the Prophets, to∣gether with other manifest Scriptures, whereunto we ought to haue recourse in doubts of this nature, and to be concluded by them, doe evidently confound Arrius, and all the rest his partakers. Consubstantiality, which the Greekes call 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , is confirmed by very many evident testimonies of Scripture. But so is not Transub∣stantiation, which hath so molested the braines of Sco∣tus, Occam, Biel, and all the schoole Divines, that many a time they are shrowdly put to it, what they had best stay for removing the absurdities which arise therefrom. Therefore it is apparant that it is a meere fiction with∣out any foundation of Scripture. So that Scotus, (as Bi∣shop Tonstall did many times ingenuously confesse) was

of opinion that the Church might better, and with more ease make vse of some more commodious expositi∣on of those words in the holy Supper. And the Bishop was of the minde that we ought to speake reverently of ••he holy Supper, as did the auncient Fathers, but that the opinion of Transubstantiation might well be let a∣lone. This thing also the same Bishop Tonstall was wont to affirme both in words and writings, that Inno∣cent the third knew not what he did when he put Tran∣substantiation among the Articles of faith, and he said that Innocentius wanted learned men about him, and in∣deed, (saith the Bishop) if I had beene of his Councell, I make no doubt but I might haue beene able to haue disswaded him from that resolution. When Mr. Cheasey said that the Catholicks should doe well to giue way in the Article of Transubstantiation, I heard not himselfe speak the words, but one which heard him tolde me. Whereas you write touching the imprison∣ment of him and others, truly I am of the opinion, that as for this present life, they liue most quietly. Nor doe I think that themselues could haue made choice of a more retired kinde of life, if the sting of conscience trouble them not, for maintaining a cause that is not good, but built vpon the sand. But if you will needes haue it that men must of necessity conniue at the beastly and abomi∣nable liues of so many Romane Bishops, aboue thirty, you may also finde fault with our Saviour himselfe, for discovering so plainly the pernicious enormities, both of the Pharises, (who in those times were accounted for∣footh the holy Fathers) and also of their Fathers then dead: you may blame also the Prophet Esay, who will not haue evill men to be called good, denouncing a curse against that man, who calleth him holy that is not holy: find fault also with Saint Bernard, who calleth them the Ministers of Antichrist. Those things which other god∣ly men haue written to this purpose, doe worthily ex∣cuse vs. He blameth those things openly concerning

which he confesseth that it is a shame to speake: I re∣veale not hidden things (saith he) but I reprooue things publickely knowne: vnto which thing we are even ob∣liged by the commandement of God. Esaia. 58. 1. Shew my people their sinnes: whereas you say that fiue Sacra∣ments are rejected by vs, you doe not say well, rejected, for wee vse them reverently, according to the word of God, nor doe we take away the name of a Sacrament, as the word Sacrament is generally vsed, as was the wa∣shing of feete, and many other things which may retaine the name of a Sacrament in generall, as also they doe a∣mong the Fathers. But the auncient Fathers and some Schoole men doe a••firme, that onely Baptisme and the Eucharist are properly called Sacraments: It is also the testimony of Bessarion: We read (saith he) of these two Sacraments onely manifestly delivered in the Gospell. I wonder at you that you doe so wrest the words of Saint Paul to such a sence, as that out of those words all the Ceremonies of the Masse may be established: whereas you cannot be ignorant, that the greatest part of them hath ben added many ages after by the Bishops of Rome. Wee reade also that the Apostles consecrated with the words of the Gospell, and with the Lords prayer. Moreover, whereas Saint Paul had even at that time or∣dayned already, that the people should not only eate the bread with the Minister (as his owne words doe mani∣festly prooue but also drinke of the cup, you see how there fellowes haue vtterly ••obbed the Church of that ordi••ation of Christ and his Apostles: but how iustly, or by what good authority they haue done thus let thē∣••elues looke vnto it, I could never in my reading find 〈…〉〈…〉 ground of that authority. I find the contrary, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that all men are altogether forbidden to alter any thing touching the word and will of God, delivered in the holy scriptures.

You say that the Scriptures allow prayer for the dead, and that you know this well enough. Saint Hierom

saith, that the booke of Maccha••••s is profitable for man∣ners, not to establish doctrine. You alledge that Saint Augustine doubted in many places whether there be a Purgatorie. If that be a doubtfull poynt then it is not to be obtruded as an Article of faith; but to be left indiffe∣rent. For, faith is a substance: Heb 11. 1 and faith ought not to wauer, saith Saint Iames, The Bishop of Roche∣ster writeth concerning Purgatory, that amongst the Auncients, there was either little or no mention of it. And so long as there was no care taken for Prgatorie, no man sought after Indulgences. And so those innumera∣ble gaynes by Pardons were never knowne before Pur∣gatory was found out. What shall we now say to bee meant by those words of Saint Paul, esteeming gayne godline, if this be not it. This Mart hath fed and still doth feed many idle bellyes, who stoutly driue away the word of God to the best of their abillity that they may not loose their Swine. Howbeit at the last the truth shall prevaile, how ever these men haue conspired together.

As touching that which you adde concerning the In∣vocation of Saints, Saint Augustine exhorteth vs rather to stand to the Scriptures, then either to his writings, or the writings of others: and not to build vpon his writings without the authoritie of Scriptures. And surely in this poynt my conscience is resolued, that there is not one poynt of all these which are controverted, that is proved by more evident testimonyes of Scrip∣ture, then this, that God alone is to be prayed vnto, and by one mediator, namely Iesus Christ. Rom. 10. 13. How shall they call on him in whome they haue not beleeued? We must beleeue in God onely, therefore he onely is to bee prayed vnto: That distinction touching Invocation and Advocation, that albeit you allow not the Invocation of Saints, at the least you allow their advocation, is frivo∣lous: because, as those men robb Christ of his honour, who seeke another mediator, so these are no lesse injuri∣ous to Christ, who seeke another 〈◊〉〈◊〉, because we

haue Christ an Advocate with the Father. 1 Iob. 2: ••. and Esai. 63: he affirmeth that Abraham knoweth vs not. Truely I assure my selfe, that Abraham the father of the faithfull is no lesse a Saint, then any other of the Saints in heaven. You say, you beleeue the Communion of Saints, which we also doe all of vs beleeue: but you in∣ferre thereupon, that you vnderstand not how there can be a Communion of Saints: if the Saints departed doe not pray for vs, and we call vpon them for assistance. But the Church of Christ vnderstandeth the Communi∣on of Saints farre otherwise. For in the vsuall phrase of Scripture, Saints are not vnderstood to be those that are departed, and whose soules are in heauen, but those who are living here on the earth. Nor shall you almost tho∣rough the whole Scripture of the Old and new Testa∣ment find the name of Saint giuen to any man, but that thereby is vnderstood a Saint living heere on the earth. Yea, sometimes the Scripture speaketh more expressely as in Psal. 16. 3: to the Saints which are on the earth: all my delight is in them. If any man ever had or could haue a Communion with the Saints in heaven, surely Dauid had it. But he expoundeth the communion wherewith he was acquainted, that is the communion of Saints on earth. So Saint Iohn expoundeth this poynt. 1 Ioh: 1, 3. What we have seene and known: that declare we vnto you, that yee also may have communion with vs, and that our communion may be with God, and with his son Iesus Christ. First, all the Church of Christ haue cōmunion with the Apostolick Church, that you may haue cōmunion with vs: Secondly, this communion of Saints shall consist in the preaching of the word, and in the participation of diverse gifts for the edification of the Church in pub∣licke and private prayers. Thirdly, but in powering out of our prayers we haue communion with the Father & the Sonne, or with the Father by the Sonne. Heere is no mention at all, no respect had to the Saints departed. This communion according to the words of holy Scrip∣ture

extendeth no further then to the Church on earth. The Saints departed are not called in Scripture simply Saints, but the Congregation of the first borne in heauen, and the spirits of iust and perfect men. Heb: 12. 23. After this life we shall haue communion with them, but as for those who require this communion with them in this life, let them either product from Scripture what they say, or let them heare that sentence of our blessed Lord, In vaine doe ye worship me▪ teaching for doctrines the tra∣ditions of men. Math: 15 9.

I confesse that if you haue respect to the vse of this our age, or some former ones, the deceased are called Saints, but it is not the custome of this or that age▪ but the rule of the holy Scripture that is propounded for our imitation. But what doe we contending about this points? Those men who stand so hard for Invocation of Saints shall grant it vs to be a thing indifferent: for in∣deed it is the safest way to goe to the fountaine of mer∣cy it selfe, and let the streames alone. Nor suffer those men to perswade you, who say that they detract no∣thing from God, by detracting their prayers to the Saints: For no man can detract from God more then he who transferreth the worship due to God alone vnto the creature. For invocation is a part of divine wor∣ship: and this worship hee communicateth to no crea∣ture, who will not give his glory to another.

As for your Arguments touching Images, and fasting (which point of fasting God forbid that either I or any one should deny, yea rather we exhort all persons to the practise of it, onely we desire to haue the superstiti∣on & wicked opinions remooved) together with those other Arguments touching Relicks, and Exorcismes in casting out vncleane spirits forsooth, which thing when it leadeth to Idolatry is the signe of a false Prophet: Deut 13. Although answer might be made to all these with much ease, yet because I how want leisure, as being o∣ver leaden with imployments, in regard that I am desti∣tute

of a Curate at this time, and have a very large Parish to visite, and also my body is weak, and subject to faint with wearinesse, being worne out with paynes taking: therefore in all these respectes, I haue thought it fitting to deferre mine answere to these points vntill another time. If you be vnwilling to come to Houghton vpon Sunday next, because you will not be an offence to my Parishioner•• (in which case you cannot blame me if I ap∣peare very carefull of my Parishioners, in regard of the great charge laid vpon me) for it is apparant in the times of the Prophets, and in all succeeding ages, since that the vulgar people haue been too too pro••e to superstiti∣on, and a micheife doth increase easily, and creep further in one day, then good lessons in a whole moneth: ther∣fore, sundry excepted (vnlesse you will come vp into the Quire, which in my judgement you ought not to re∣fuse) if you come straightwayes after the Sabboth day is ended, and depart about Saterday noone, you shall bee heartily welcome: therefore that excuse which you pre∣tend ought not to retarde your accesse. And although your last conclusion doe (as I told you already) take a∣way all hope and confidence from a man who shall con∣ferre with you, yet I will not cease to hope better things touching your conversion, then you seeme to hope of your selfe. Saint Paul had once a firme resolution to dye a Pharisy, and a persecuter of Christians, but God had reserved for him the treasure of power and mercy, to the end that he might ordayne him to Preach that glori∣ous namee which he had formerly persecuted. I com∣mend you to the good••es of the Almightie God, which is able by the spirit of knowledge, to leade you into all truth. Fare ye well. From Honghton the 14. of October. 1580.

Your loving Vncle BERNARD GILPIN.

SO long as Bishop Pilkinton lived, Mr. Gilpin had a most kind friend of him, after whose decease Richard

Bar••es succeeded in the Bishopricke. This man was somewhat offended with Mr. Gilpin: And hereby han∣geth a story which I must fetch somewhat farre. Mr. Gil∣pin was accustomed sometimes to ride to Oxford, espe∣cially in his younger time when he was able to indure travell. Now it happened vpon a time as he was vpon his way towards Oxford, that he espyed by the way side a youth one while walking and another while running. Mr. Gilpin demanded of him who he was, whence he came, and whither he was going. He made answer that he came out of Wales, and that he was bound for Oxford with intent to be a scholler. Mr. Gilpin examineth the youth, and findeth him a prompt scholler in the Latine, and that he had a little smattering of the Greeke. And wilt thou (saith Mr. Gilpin) be contented to goe with me? I will provide for thee. The youth was contented: whereupon Mr. Gilpin tooke him along with him first to Oxford, afterwards to Houghton, where he profited exceedingly both in Greeke and Hebrew: whom Mr. Gilpin at the last sent to Cambridge. And this was that famous Hugh Bro••ghton, so exceeding apt in learning the Greeke and Hebrew, but a man of a most inconstant na∣ture. For when Mr. Gilpin grew olde, whether it was in expectation of Mr. Gilpins Parsonage, or for some o∣ther cause, it is reported that he procured Mr. Gilpin to be troubled and molested by the Bishop of Durham. Now so it fell out, that whiles the Bishops minde began to be turned from Mr. Gi••pin the Bishop sendeth vnto him and giveth him notice that it is his pleasure to have him to preach at a visitation in time and place appoin∣ted. Which thing fell out at the very same instant when Mr. Gilpin was preparing for his accustomed Northerne journey, to wit, amongst them of Riddesdale and Ti••∣dale: wherefore he dispatched his servant vnto the Bi∣shop to make his excuse vnto him, and to informe his Lordship the reason of his purposed journey; and to in∣treat the Bishop that he be pleased to appoint some other

to preach at the visitation, seeing there were many who would be willing enough to preach at the visitation, but that there was not a man who would performe that du∣ty among those borders if he neglected it: and that at any other time he would be ready to performe his duty. The servant having beene with the Bishop returneth to his Master, who demanded of him whether hee had made his excuse to the Bishop: I haue, faith he: well, and what (saith Mr. Gilpin) was the Bishops answer? Whereunto the servant answered, the Bishop made no reply, but held his peace. Qui tacet, consent••re v••detur: saith Mr. Gilpin: He that replyeth, not seemes to con∣sent. Therefore Mr. Gilpin went on with his purposed progresse. Which thing so soone as the Bishop vnder∣stood, he presently suspended Mr. Gilpin from all Eccle∣siasticall imployment. Mr. Gilpin returning home fin∣deth himselfe suspended, a thing that he little dreamed of, yet he tooke it patiently. The Bishop having notice that Mr. Gilpin was returned home, sendeth vnto him instantly warning him to meete him and the rest of the Clergy at Chester. M. Gilpin being come to Chester findeth there the Bishop with many of the Clergy, who were all commanded to assemble themselues in the Church. The Bishop had at that time a brother of his owne one Iohn Barnes who was his Chancellour, a man, of whom it is hard to say whether he was more lustfull or more coveto••s: who whereas he should haue beene the man that ought to haue reformed many enormities in the Di∣ocesse, was indeed the authour of them, permitting base and dishonest persons to escape ••cotfree for a piece of money, so that the Bishop had a very ill report every where. When they were all met together the Bishop calleth Mr. Gilpin vnto him, and saith, Mr. Gilpin, I must haue you preach to day. Mr. Gilpin desired to be excu∣sed, for I came not (saith he) provided; and moreover I am suspended. But I can free you (saith the Bishop) from that suspension, and doe now free you. Mr. Gilpin

replyed, that he durst not goe vp into the pulpit vnpro∣vide••. But we know (saith the Bishop) that you are never vnprovided, for you haue now gotten such an habit of preaching, that you are able to performe it, if you please, even vpon the sodaine. Mr. Gilpin re∣mained vnmooveable in his resolution, answering that God was not so to be tempted, saying that it was well with him, if he were able to performe any thing in this kinde vpon mature deliberation. Whereunto the Bishop replyed, I command you vpon your Canonicall obedi∣ence to goe vp into the pulpit forthwith. Mr. Gilpin de∣laying the time a little while, answered: Well sir, see∣ing it can be none otherwise, your Lordships will be done: and after a little pause began his sermon. As hee was in his sermon hee observed some extraordinarily prepared who wrote all he spoke. But yet hee procee∣deth in his sermon, vntill he came to a word of exhorta∣tion, and reprehension of vices. At the last he proceeded to the reproofe of those enormities which then raigned in that Diocesse, and were every where spoken of. And now, saith he, Reverend Father, my speech must be di∣rected to your Fatherhood. God hath exalted you to be Bishop of this Diocesse, and God requireth an account of your government therof: a reformation of all those mat∣ters which are amisse in this Church is expected at your hands, and an account thereof is required. And now lest perhaps, while it is apparant that so many enormities are committed every where, your Lordship should make answer that you had no notice of them given you, neither did these things ever come to your knowledge, (which words Mr. Gilpin used, because hee knew well enough that this was the Bishops vsuall answer, that whensoe∣ver men made any complaints against the evill govern∣ment of the Chancellour, the Bishop was accustomed to say, alas, these things I never knew of; what is done can not be vndone; I will take a better order in these matters hereafter, if any such shall come to my knowledge.) Be∣holde,

said Mr. Gilpin, I bring these things to your know∣ledge this day: Let not your Lordship say these crimes haue beene committed by the fault of others without your knowledge: for whatsoever either your selfe shall doe in person, or suffer through your connivency to be done by others, is wholly your owne. Therefore in the presence of God, his Angels, and men, I pronounce your Fatherhood to be the authour of all these evills, yea and in that strict day of the generall account I shall be a wit∣nes to testifie against you that all these things haue come to your knowledge by my meanes; and all these men shall beare witnesse hereof who haue heard me speaking vnto you this day. Now whiles that Mr. Gilpin thunde∣red out these things, hee did thereby put all his friends into a great feare, and distrust what would become of him. Therefore when he had made an end of his Ser∣mon, his friends came about him and tolde him with teares, that now at last the Bishop had gotten that ad∣vantage against him which hee had long desired and sought for: you haue, say they, put a sword into his hand to slay you: if heretofore he hath beene offended with you without a cause, what may you now expect from him, who being provoked shall make vse of his owne power to injure you by right or wrong? To whom Mr. Gilpin made answer, saying: be not afraid: The Lord God overruleth vs all; so that the truth may be propa∣gated, and God glorified, Gods will be done concerning me. After the Sermon they met all together at dinner, & all men were afraid that the Bishop would haue done Mr. Gilpin some shrewd turn for his Sermon, and silently expected what would become of the matter. After din∣ner Mr. Gilpin commeth to the Bishop to see him, and to take leaue of him, and so to returne homewards. It shall not be so, said the Bishop, for I will bring you to your house; And so Mr. Gilpin, returned home in the company of the Bishop.

And when they were now come to Mr. Gilpin•••• house,

and walked within into the parlour, the Bishop vpon a sodaine caught Mr. Gilpin by the hand, and vsed these words vnto him: Father Gilpin, I acknowledge you are fitter to be Bishop of Durhams, then my selfe to be Par∣son of this Church of yours: I aske forgiuenesse for er∣rours passed; forgiue me father: I know you haue hat∣ched vp some chickens that now seeke to pick out your eyes; but so long as I shall liue Bishop of Durham, be se∣cure, no man shall injure you. Mr. Gilpins friends, that is all good men began to rejoyce, and to giue God thanks, acknowledging the powerfull hand of God, in that the Bishop being so offended with him, was so prevented by the power of God, as that the thing which he had pur∣posed for his disgrace, should turne to his greater credit. In the meane while Mr. Gilpin reaped the fruit of a pi∣ous life in all plentifull manner.

After that age began to grow vpon him, there was in the towne of Newcastle one Genison who had received to home a sonne of his owne brothers lately returned from the parts beyond the seas. This Genison was much ag∣grieved for that his brothers sonne was (as hee vnder∣stood) made a Iesuite: whereupon hee sent the young man to Mr. Gilpin, intreating him to haue a care of him, and to disswade him if he could possibly from his wick∣ed and dangerous opinions. After that Mr. Gilpin had often conferd with him, he found the young fellow most insolently proud, and armed with boldnesse and impu∣dence, corrupting the holy Scriptures with certaine new and vnheard of expositions. Whereupon Mr. Gilpin wrote to his vncle Mr. Genison, that he was a most au∣dacious young fellow, and c••me not to him to be instru∣cted, but to teach him rather.

The young fell our, saith he, thinking I know not how, a great deale too well of himselfe, had an hope to draw me at these 〈◊〉〈◊〉, no acknowledge certaine abrurdities. I see that the Iesuites have found out, 〈…〉〈…〉

away all respect, and set vpon men with impudency. They dare proue the Invocation of Saints from Abra∣ham, Isaae, and Iacob. This fellow doth obstinately af∣firme that the Church of Rome hath not erred in any one thing. Their most horrible errours touching Indulgen∣ces, falsified Miracles, falsified Reliques, Pilgrimages, worshipping of Images, and the rest of the same sort, all these this wonderfull man findeth out in the Gospell. And hee standeth vpon it stiffely that all these things are good and holy. I desire not to haue any more to doe with such a monstrous kinde of men, with such fierce natures, who open their mouths against heaven, for what is it to open their mouthes against heaven, if this be not, so vi∣olenty and disgracefully to handle the holy Scriptures? They haue devised and daily doe devise horrible strange expositions such as were never heard of before in the Church of Rom••: I therefore desire to rid mine hands of this fellow as of a scabbed sheepe, for feare he might in∣fect my whole flocke.

After that his leane body was quite worne out with diversity of paines-taking, at the last even feeling before hand the approach of death, he commanded the poore to be called together, vnto whom hee made a speech, and tooke his leaue of them. Afterwards he did the like to others. He fell sick about the end of Febr••ary, and after many exhortations vsed to the schollers, to his servants, and to divers others, at the last he fell asleep in the Lord in great peace, the fourth day of March, in the yeare of our Lord 1583. and in the 66. yeare of his age.

He was tall of stature, and slender, being hawke-no∣sed. His clothes were ever such as cost not very deare. He could never away with gay apparell. In things be∣longing to his owne body he was very frugall, and retai∣ned the austerity of the auncient. In things which might tend to the good of others he was exceeding bountifull, especially towards poore people and schoolers. He desi∣••ed still to keep his dores open for the intertainment of

any poore 〈◊〉〈◊〉. In his owne house he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and ••ent at the most foure and twenty scholler••, some∣times fewer, but seldome. The greater 〈…〉〈…〉 boorders were poore m••ns sonnes, vpon whom he be∣stowed meat, drink and cloth and education in learning. He was wont to enterteine his Parishioners and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at his table not only at the Christmas time, as the custome is but because he had a large and wide Parish, and a great multitude of people, he kept a table for them every Sunday from Michaelmas to Easter. He ha•• the Gentlemen, the husband men, and the poorer sort set ••••very degree by themselues, and as it were ordered in ranks. He was wont to commend the marryed estate in the Clergy, howbeit himselfe li••ed and dyed a single man. He bestowed in the building, ordering and e••••••∣blishing of his schoole, and in providing yearly stipende for a Schoole-master and vshe••, the 〈…〉〈…〉 hundred pounds: out of which schoole he supplied the Church of England with great store of learned men. He was carefull to avoid not onely all evill doing, but even the lightest suspicio••s thereof. And he was accounted•• Saint in the iudgements of his very enemies if he had any such. Being full of faith vnfeigned, and of good workes, he was at the last put 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his grau•• as a heap of wheat in due time swept into. the 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

FINIS▪