Mark but my fall and that which ruined me! By that sin fell the Angels; how can man, then, Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Thy God's, and Truth's; then, if thou fall'st- The following is the Inscription of the Tablet in Windermere Church: Quod mortale fuit RICARDI LANDAVENSIS Juxta Cometerium habet Quod immortale est Faxit Deus En ΧΡΙΣΤΩ Calum habeat, Vitam obiit IV. Non. Jul. A.D. MDCCCXVI. Etat LXXIX. Hoc marmor, parvulum licet, egregii in conjugem Amoris monumentum poni curavit, DOROTHEA WATSON: Et ipsa Evo haud brevi sine labe perfuncta Tumulo eodem sepulta requiescit * Cardinal Wolsey to Cromwell, in Shakspeare's Henry VIII. Inscription of the Tomb in the Churchyard: RICARDI WATSON, Episcopi Landavensis, cineribus sacrum, Obiit Julii 40. A. D. 18160. Ætatis 790. Hic etiam conjugis, prope Depositæ sunt reliquiæ DOROTHEE WATSON, Maximæ natarum EDVARDI WILSON, de Dallam Tower Arm. Vitam obiit III. id. April. A. D. MDCCCXXXI. Bernard Gilpin. BISHOP-NOMINATE OF CARLISLE*, ARCHDEACON OF DURHAM, &c. 1517-1583. "These are the best instructors that teach in their lives, and prove their words by their actions."-SENECA. LEXANDER THE GREAT commanded that no one should make a portrait of him except Apelles, nor any one attempt a statue of him but Lysippus. None but an artist of the highest powers should dare to sketch the portrait or mould the statue of The Northern Apostle. In Hugh Carletont, Bishop of Chichester, and William Gilpin, M.A.‡, our great countryman has found an * A congé d'élire issued for his election to the See, and he refused it. Nolo episcopari was a practical truth with him, and not a mere matter of form. Dean Barwick did the like. Life. + London, 1636, 12mo, 4th edition. See London, 1753, demy 12mo, 2nd edition, to which is prefixed a fine line-engraved portrait of him; one of the most intelligent heads the eye can rest upon. Apelles and a Lysippus; and to their handiwork more than to our own, do we now invite your attention. Bernard Gilpin, say they, was born in the year 1517, at Kentmire Hall, in Westmorland; which, in the time of King John, had been given by a baron of Kendal to Richard Gilpin, as a reward for his services, from whom the estate descended to the father of Bernard, Edwin Gilpin, who became prematurely possessed of it by the death of an elder brother, killed at the battle of Bosworth. Edwin Gilpin had several children, of which Bernard was one of the youngest; an unhappy circumstance in that age, which, giving little encouragement to the liberal arts, and less to commerce, restrained the genius and industry of younger brothers. No way, indeed, was commonly open to their fortunes, but the church or the camp. The inconvenience, however, was less to Bernard than to others; for that way was open, to which his disposition most led him. From his earliest youth he was inclined to a contemplative life, thoughtful, reserved, and serious. Perhaps no one ever had a greater share of constitutional virtue, or through every part of life endeavoured more to improve it. The bishop of Chichester hath preserved a story of him in his infancy, which will show how early he could discern, not only the immorality, but the indecorum of an action. A begging friar came on a Saturday evening to his father's house, where, according to the custom of those times, he was received in a very hospitable manner. The plenty set before him was a temptation too strong for his virtue; of which, it seems, he had not sufficient even to save appearances. The next morning, however, he ordered the bell to toll, and from the pulpit expressed himself with great vehemence against the debauchery of the times, and particularly against drunkenness. Bernard, who was then a child upon his mother's knee, seemed for some time exceedingly affected with the friar's discourse, and at length, with the utmost indignation, cried out, "He wondered how that man could preach against drunkenness, when he himself had been drunk only the night before." Instances of this kind soon discovered the seriousness of his disposition, and gave his parents an early presage of his future piety. His first years were spent at a public school; but at what school has not been recorded. From school, at the age of sixteen, he was removed to Queen's College, Oxford, where he was entered on the Old Foundation. He had not been long in the university before he was taken notice of. He was looked upon as a young man of good parts and considerable learning; and they who were not so well qualified to judge in either of these points, admired and loved him for a remarkable sweetness in his disposition, and unaffected sincerity in his manners. At the usual |