swine, fit for devils to enter into. For these sins are against nature, which, being moderately refreshed, is satisfied; being stuffed, is hurt, violated, and deformed. God hath given us His creatures soberly to use, and not so shamefully to abuse; we should, if we did well, feed the body, to serve and not to rule, to obey, and not to lead, the spirit. 'I chasten my body,' saith St Paul, and bring it into servitude.' Is it not perilous, trow you, to pamper and make strong our adversary? or have we a greater or stronger enemy than our rebellious flesh ? The Israelites lusted after quails, but to their own confusion. Esau, for his belly sake, sold his birthright and inheritance. Beware their examples. Lucullus, a Roman, had a servant always at his elbow, to pull him by the sleeve at such times as he poured in too fast. But we have the blessed apostle of Christ, the servant of God, to put us in mind of sobriety." [“The end of all things is at hand. Be ye therefore sober."] The Cloak and the Veil. "It is not our charity that can cover our sins from the sight of God. Christ is the propitiation for our sins. 'It is I that blot out your iniquities,' saith the Lord. But, as God's love to usward covereth our sins, so ours towards our brethren doth cover theirs. If God love us, his mercy is as a cloak that hideth all our shame; He seeth no blemish or deformity in us. If we love our brethren, our charity is as a veil before our eyes; we behold not their faults. Although they be great, we do not weigh them; although many, we reckon them not. For charity covereth even the multitude of sins.' The eye of the charitable man is always viewing his own wounds; as for the scars of other men, he seeth them not. His hand is always occupied, not in picking out motes from other men's eyes, but in drawing out beams from his own. St Augustine, to shew the great dislike he had of such as uncharitably delighted to unfold other men's faults, wrote these verses over his table :— LITTLE FOXES. 'Quisquis amat dictis absentem rodere vitam, Whoso loveth to gnaw upon men in their absence, Let him know that this table doth not like his presence."" Foxes. 89 "The enemies of God's vineyard are, therefore, chiefly called foxes, whom they singularly resemble in four peculiar propensities. The fox is ravenous, greedy on his prey. And these cubs, enemies to the cross of Christ, have, under pretence of long prayer, devoured widows' houses, spared no estate or condition of men, beguiled princes of their possessions, gotten to themselves the riches and wealth of the whole world with false merchandise, selling that for bread which is no bread, making their gain of masses, merits, pardons, and such like stuff. Unsatiable dogs they are, ever barking and never satisfied. The old grey fox is become the lord of the whole earth, the king of kings; his cardinals, abbots, and bishops, great princes and lords of whole countries; the little foxes, as monks, friars, and massing priests, what with singing, and what with begging, have raked no small heaps together. "As they lively resemble foxes in greediness and cruelty, so in wiliness also they are like unto them; crafty they are and subtle, as false as a fox. The fox will not worry near his bele [covert], but rangeth far abroad, lest he be espied. So these subtle deceivers go far off; they compass sea and land to make a proselyte of their own profession; they shut themselves up in their beles in the day-time; they dare not abide the light, but seek lurking-holes and corners, disguising themselves in strange apparel, lest their wonted attire should betray them; wily foxes, deep dissemblers, double-hearted, double-tongued, double-faced; speaking them full fair whom they hate full deadly; promising and not performing; shifting off and seeking time; now humble as sheep, but when time serveth as fierce as lions. By subtle sleights and breach of faith they brought John Huss to the Council of Constance, and there cruelly murdered him; they promised him a safe-conduct to come and to go; but those holy fathers agreed upon a new point of religion, that 'Promise is not to be kept with heretics,' and so cruelly and treacherously consumed with fire the saint of God. These faith-breakers be no more to be trusted than foxes." Contemporary with Archbishop Sandys, and in the neighbouring diocese of Durham, lived and laboured the Apostle of the North, BERNARD GILPIN.* The parish of Houghton-leSpring, when he came to it, and the district around, were in a state semi-pagan, semi-popish, and more than semi-barbarous. So remote from the executive, it was only a distant rumour of public changes which invaded the solitude, and a very faint ripple of legislation which even disturbed the repose of the inhabitants. For example: the change of religion in the reign of King Edward made no change to these dwellers along the Wear, whose magistrates and ministers did not think it worth while to publish the edicts against idolatry, and were never called to account for their omission. As soon as Gilpin was appointed incumbent, he set to work, and built a parsonage, where in palatial style he exercised the popular virtue of hospitality, at his own board mollifying the hearts of neighbour squires and parsons, and in the kitchen conciliating to the new regime the humbler classes of his parishioners. The schools he founded and endowed, the feuds he healed, the distress which he befriended and relieved, the bishopric of Carlisle which he refused, and the lordly oppressors whom he rebuked in the poor man's behalf, procured him boundless popularity; and in days when the border swarmed with thieves and ruffians, this heroic man moved about on his Heavenly Master's errand, and none was dastard enough * Born 1517; died 1583. THE APOSTLE OF THE NORTH. 91 to insult the white flag which he carried. On one occasion a robber made off with his horses, but it so resounded through the countryside that the echo of his crime reached the culprit; and when he found whose were the steeds he had stolen, he found no rest in his spirit till he had restored them to the rightful owner. Every Christmas it was his custom to sally forth into the "Debateable Land" on a preaching tour. At that season the people were idle; and in barns or churches he had no difficulty in getting congregations to hear him. But at that season the roads were worse than usual, and not unfrequently, before he could reach a friendly cottage, the preacher was benighted, and, after supping on a morsel of oaten bread, he and his servant had to bivouac as best they could in the rain or snow. But at the journey's end he was often requited with cheer such as angels might envy. Amidst such a population, however, it needed no ordinary courage to make full proof of his ministry. One Sunday morning, entering a church, he observed a glove suspended in a conspicuous place. He asked the sexton what it meant, and was told that it was meant as a challenge to any one who should take it down. "Hand it to me," said Mr Gilpin. The man, however, was afraid, and Mr Gilpin removed it himself. When the people assembled, Mr Gilpin began to preach on the wickedness of brawling and fighting, and rebuked them severely for the inhuman challenges which he understood were still practised amongst them. "I hear,” he added, "that one among you hath hanged up a glove even in this sacred place, threatening to fight any one who taketh it down see, I have taken it down," and at the same time pulling the gauntlet out of his bosom, he held it up to the congregation. Another day he was preaching at Rothbury, when two parties were in the neighbourhood who had a deadly quarrel. The one champion with his retainers was already in the church when the other entered. Swords instantly began to jangle, and pikes and spears were in lively motion, and it was evident that a fray was just beginning, when Mr Gilpin stepped down from the pulpit, and so wrought upon the leaders by his remonstrances, that they agreed to suspend their feud as long as he continued in the neighbourhood. But perhaps his boldest feat was his sermon before Barns, the Bishop of Durham. This remiss and easy prelate left everything in the hands of his chancellor, and everything was administered accordingly. A money payment absolved from non-residence, incompetence, and immorality. On one occasion, when a number of clergy were assembled at Chesterle-street, Dr Barns insisted that the rector of Houghton should preach. Mr Gilpin made many excuses. He had no sermon ; he was not prepared; he was under a sentence of suspension on account of his last journey into Tynedale. That last objection the bishop at once overruled by removing the sentence, and Mr Gilpin was forced to proceed. Towards the close of the sermon, he turned towards the bishop, and said, "My discourse now, reverend father, must be directed to you. God hath exalted you to be the bishop of this diocese, and requireth an account of your government thereof. A reformation of all those matters which are amiss in this church is expected at your hands. And now, lest perhaps, while it is apparent that so many enormities are committed everywhere, your lordship should make answer that you had no notice of them given you, and that these things never came to your knowledge, behold I bring them to your knowledge this day. Say not, then, that these crimes have been committed by the fault of others without your knowledge; for whatever either yourself shall do in person, or suffer through your connivance to be done by others, is wholly your own. Therefore, in the presence of God, his angels, and men, I pronounce you to be the author of all these evils; yea, and in that strict day of the general account I will be a witness to testify against you, that all these things have come to your knowledge by my means; and all these men |