•p:'' ^2 . j^' FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUJS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY mMoa WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. "^^^ OCT 1-^ 1931 <^ICAL 8E^ THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE REVEREND ^y GEORGE WHITEFIELD, MA. y ROBERT PHILIP, LrTHOP. OF THE EXPEniMENTAL GUIDES, ETC. ETC. ETC. Thou ait permitted to speak for thyself."— Act:- " That seraphic man ! " — Keed. LONDON : GEORGE VIRTUE, 26, IVY LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW. nUNGAY : PRINTED BY J R. AND C CHILDS. MDCCCXXXVIII. v^ tl //J24^f//^ JOSHUA WILSON, ESQ. THIS V/ORK, SUGGESTED BY HIS VENERABLE FATHER, THE FOUNDER AND TREASURER OF HIGHBURY COLLEGE, AND ENRICHED FROM HIS OWN VALUABLE LIBRARY, IS INSCRIBED, BY HIS OLD FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. Newington Green, May 10, 1837. PREFACE. This Work is chiefly from Whitefield's own pen. So far as it is mine, it is in his own spirit. It will, there- fore, help all that is good, and expose not a little of what is wrong, in all churches ; and thus, like his actual life, tell upon both. At least, if it fail to do this, my object will be defeated. Should its honest catholicity commend it, it may be followed by similar " Annals and Illus- trations of Evangelical Preaching," from the dawn of the Reformation to the close of the last century. In regard to the style of this Work I have nothing to say ; except that it is my oivn way of telling the facts of personal history. The time is not yet come, for the philosophy of Whitefield's Life. It is, however, fast approaching : and, therefore, my mass of facts will soon be turned to good account by myself, or by some one. In the mean time, Whitefield will be known to the public ; which he was not until now. R. P. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE whitefield's early life, education, and ordination . . 1 CHAPTER II. whitefield's introduction to LONDON . . . .47 CHAPTER III, whitefield's first voyage and visit to GEORGIA . . 55 CHAPTER IV. whitefield's first GREAT MEASURES IN LONDON, 1739 . . 73 CHAPTER V. whitefield's FIRST VISITS TO THE COL'NTRY . . . ^7 CHAPTER VI. whitefield in wales . . . . . . .110 CHAPTER VII. whitefield in AMERICA ...... 136 CHAPTER VIII. whitefield's breach with WESLEY ..... 195 CHAPTER IX. WHITEFIELD IN SCOTLAND, 1741 ..... 218 CHAPTER X. WHITEFIELD AND THE DISSENTERS ..... 252 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XL page WHITEFIELD'S DOMESTIC LIFE ...... 264 CHAPTER XII. WHITEFIELD AT CAMBUSLANG ...... 291 CHAPTER XIII. WHITEFIELD ITINERATING ...... 306 CHAPTER XIV. WHITEFIELD ITINERATING IN AMERICA, 1744 .... 319 CHAPTER XV. WHITEFIELD IN BERMUDAS ...... 334 CHAPTER XVI. WHITEFIELD RANGING ....... 346 CHAPTER XVII. WHITEFIELD IN IRELAND . . . . . .371 CHAPTER XVIII. WHITEFIELd's CHARACTERISTIC SAYINGS, 1734 TO 1745 . . 378 CHAPTER XIX. WHJTEFIELD REVISITING ...... 398 CHAPTER XX. WHITEFIELD IN LISBON, 1754 ...... 417 CHAPTER XXI. WHITEFIELD AND THE LONDON MORAVIANS .... 432 CHAPTER XXII. WHITEFIELD'S INFLUENCE IN AMERICA. FIRST PART . . . 441 CHAPTER XXIII. WHITEFIELD'S PUBLIC SPIRIT ...... 446 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIV. WHITEFIELd's influence in AMERICA. SECOND PART XI PAGE . 467 CHAPTER XXV. whitefiEld and the bishops . 473 CHAPTER XXVI. whitefield's last labours at home . 484 CHAPTER XXVII. whitefield and edmund-hall 491 CHAPTER XXVIII. whitefield's last voyage . 497 CHAPTER XXIX, whitefield and the nobility . 507 CHAPTER XXX. whitefield's last ITINERACY . 520 CHAPTER XXXI. WHITEFIELD S FUNERAL . 535 CHAPTER XXXII. whitefield's CHARACTERISTICS . . ^ 552 CHAPTER XXXIII. WHITEFIELD PREACHING 573 WHITEFIELD'S LIFE AND TIMES. CHAPTER I. whitefield's early life, education, and ordination. " I WAS born in Gloucestershire, in the month of December, 1714. My father and mother kept the Bell Inn" In this un- assuming manner Whitefield commences a brief memoir of himself. It will not, however, be uninteresting to add some particulars respecting his family. His great-grandfather, the Rev. Samuel Whitefield, born at Wantage, in Berkshire, was rector of North Ledyard, in Wiltshire, and afterwards of Rock- hampton. In the latter charge he was succeeded by his son, Samuel, who died without issue. Two of his daughters were married to clergymen. Andrew, Whitefield's grandfather, was a private gentleman, and lived retired upon his estate. He had fourteen children ; Thomas, the eldest, was the father of the Rev. George Whitefield. Mr. Thomas Whitefield was bred to the business of a wine merchant, in Bristol, but afterwards kept an inn in the city of Gloucester. While in Bristol he married Miss Elizabeth Edwards, a lady related to the families of Black- well and Dinmour, of that city. He had six sons, of whom George was the youngest, and one daughter. Concerning his father and mother, Whitefield writes : " The former died when I was two years old ; the latter is now alive, A WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. (she died in December, 1751, in the 71st year of her age,) and has often told me how she endured fourteen weeks' sickness, after she brought me into the world ; but was used to say, even when I was an infant, that she expected more comfort from me than from any other of her children. This, with the circum- stance of my being born in an inn, has been often of service to me, in exciting my endeavours to make good my mother's ex- pectations, and so follow the example of my dear Saviour, who was born in a manger belonging to an inn." This amiable solicitude to realize his mother's " expectations," is the more worthy of notice, because, whatever she was as a mother, she was not distinguished as a christian. This seems more than implied in the following lamentation, extracted from one of his letters : " Why is my honoured mother so solicitous about a few paltry things, that will quickly perish ? Why will she not come and see her youngest son, who will endeavour to be a Joseph to her, before she dies ?" Such was his suspense in regard to the spiritual state of his parent ; and yet he gratefully owns the salutary influence of her maternal hopes upon his mind, and, while afar off on the Atlantic, commemorates her tender- ness. " My mother was very careful of my education, and always kept me, in my tender years, (for which I never can suf- ficiently thank her,) from intermeddling in the least with the tavern business." (This paragraph was written on board the Elizabeth, during the voyage to Philadelphia.) Now these ac- knowledgments were penned during the heat of his zeal and the height ^ his popularity ; at a period when recent converts are prone to speak with harshness of their unconverted relatives, and to sink the child in the champion towards them. This is so common, and, to say nothing of its cruelty, so unwise, that I could not record this pleasing exception, without holding it up to general imitation. " The servant of the Lord must not strive ; but be gentle towards all, — apt to teach, — ^patient ; in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves ; if God, peradventure, will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth." Whitefield's humiliating recollections of his own early and inveterate opposition to " the truth," contributed, no doubt, to VVHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 3 moderate his natural impatience towards others. The following is his own narrative of that period. " My infant years must necessarily not be mentioned ; yet I can remember such early stirrings of corruption in my heart, as abundantly convince me that I was conceived and born in sin ; that in me dwelleth no good thing by nature ; and that, if God had not freely prevented me by his grace, I must have been for ever banished from his presence. I was so brutish as to hate instruction ; and used, purposely, to shun all opportunities of receiving it. I soon gave pregnant proofs of an impudent temper. Lying, filthy talking, and foolish jesting, I was much addicted to, even when very young. Sometimes I used to curse, if not swear. Stealing from my mother I thought no theft at all, and used to make no scruple of taking money out of her pockets before she was up. I have frequently betrayed my trust, and have more than once spent money I took in the house, in buying fruit, tarts, &c. to satisfy my sensual appetite. Numbers of sabbaths have I broken, and generally used to be- have myself very irreverently in God's sanctuary. Much money have I spent in plays, and in the common amusements of the age. Cards, and reading romances, were my heart's delight. Often have I joined with others in playing roguish tricks ; but was generally, if not always, happily detected : for this I have often since, and do now, bless and praise God." This enumeration of youthful vices and follies, is certainly minute, and, in one sense, gratuitous ; but, when the spirit and design of the confessions are duly weighed, no man will venture to laugh at them, except those who regard sin as a " light mat- ter." Every candid mind must be conscious of seeing itself in young Whitefield, " as in a glass ;" and every spiritual mind will not fail to deplore these early exhibitions of depravity, nor to mark this modern exemplification of an ancient truth, " Thou makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." (Job xiii. 26.) Were these acknowledgments written in the spirit, or for the same purpose, as Rousseau's unblushing " Confessions," I should despise myself, as well as insult the public, were I inclined to transcribe them. Were they even calculated to suggest the bare idea of uncommon sins, I should not have hesitated to B 2 4 WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. merge the particulars in some general charge of corruption : but, besides carrying their antidote along with them, in their penitential tone and spirit, they are but too common, however melancholy. Bishop Lavington, indeed, affects great horror and disgust at them, and compares them with the confessions of " the wild and fanatical Theresa,^'' in his treatise " On the En- thusiasm of Methodists and Papists ;" — a book, to which his own description of Whitefield's confessions is far more applicable ; " so ludicrous, filthy, and shameless, as quite defiles paper, and is shocking to decency and modesty." Such a "perfect Jakes" of ribaldry never issued from the episcopal bench ; and yet it found an editor in the vicar of Manaccan, in 1820 ! I shall have occasion, more than once, to refei* to both the bishop and the vicar. In the mean time, I cannot but allow Whitefield to speak for himself, on the subject of his early life. " It would be endless to recount the sins and offences of my younger days. ' They are more in nmnher than the hairs of my head.^ My heart would fail me at the remembrance of them, was I not assured that my Redeemer liveth to make interces- sion for me ! However the young man in the gospel might boast, that he had kept the commandments from his ' youth up,' with shame and confusion of face I confess that I have broken them all from my youth. Whatever foreseen fitness for salvation others may talk of and glory in, I disclaim any such thing : if I trace myself from my cradle to my manhood, I can see nothing in me but a fitness to be damned. ' I speak the truth in Christ : I lie not I ' If the Almighty had not prevented me by his grace, and wrought most powerfully on my soul — quickening me by his free Spirit, when dead in trespasses and sins, I had now either been sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, — or condemned, as the due reward of my crimes, to be for ever lifting up my eyes in torments. But such was the free grace of God to me, that though corruption worked so strongly in my soul, and produced such early and bitter fruits, — yet I can recollect, very early, movings of the blessed Spirit upon my heart. I had, early, some convictions of sin. Once, I remember, when some persons (as they frequently did) made it their business to tease me, I immediately retired to WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 5 my room, and kneeling down, with many tears, prayed over the 118th Psalm." It appears from the narrative, that, on this occasion, the mind of young Whitefield fastened chiefly upon the words, " In the name of the Lord will I destray them.^'' This, of course, he ap- plied to his teasing enemies, who had " compassed him ahout like hees :" a coincidence likely to be noticed by an irritated boy, of quick perceptions. Even men are but too prone, when injured, to appropriate the Messiah's weapons to their own war- fare ; — as if revenge could be sanctified by the use of sacred language. But what is pitiable in the boy, is contemptible in the man. This happened when Whitefield was only ten years old ; but the following hint will account for the facility with which he turned to a psalm suited to his purpose. " I was always fond of being a clergyman, and used frequently to imitate the minister's reading prayers, &c." Such being his favourite habit at the time, he was sure to be familiar with the impre- catory psalms, of which so many occur in the book of Common Prayer. We have seen that he was addicted to petty thefts. The manner in which he seems to have reconciled his conscience to them, is not peculiar to boys. " Part of the money I used to steal from my mother I gave to the poor, and some books I pri- vately took from others (for which I have since restored four- fold) I remember were books of devotion." " When I was about twelve, I was placed at a school, called St. Mary De Crypt, in Gloucester : the last grammar school I ever went to. Having a good elocution and memory, I was remarked for making speeches before the corporation, at their annual visitation. During the time of my being at school, I was very fond of reading plays, and have kept from school for days together, to prepare myself for acting them. My master, seeing how mine and my schoolfellows' vein ran, composed something of this kind for us himself, and caused me to dress myself in girls' clothes, (which I had often done,) to act a part before the corporation." Thus he contracted that taste for theatrical amusements, which gave rise to the well-known in- sinuation, that he learned his peculiar style of oratory upon the 6 whitefield's life and times. stage. This, however, is not the fact : his acting was confined to the boards of St. Mary De Crypt, and to his own chamber. But his fondness for this species of amusement was not left at school. When seventeen years of age, he was not weaned from this folly. Even while at college he says, " I was not fully satisfied of the sin of reading plays, until God, upon a fast day, was pleased to convince me. Taking a play, to read a passage out of it to a friend, God struck my heart with such power, that I was obliged to lay it clown again." How deeply he deplored the cause and consequences of this habit, appears from the following remarks. "I cannot but observe here, with much concern of mind, how this way of training up youth has a natural tendency to debauch the mind, to raise ill passions, and to stuff the memory with things as contrary to the gospel of Christ, as darkness to light — hell to heaven." This fatal " tendency " was but too fully exempli- fied when at school. " I got acquainted with such a set of de- bauched, abandoned, atheistical youths, that if God, by his free, unmerited, and special grace, had not delivered me out of their hands, I should have sat in the scorners' chair, and made a mock at sin. By keeping company with them, my thoughts of religion grew more and more like theirs. I went to public service only to make sport, and walk about. I took plea- sure in their lewd conversation. I began to reason as they did, and to ask, why God had given me passions, and not permitted me to gratify them ? In short, I soon made great proficiency in the school of the devil. I affected to look rakish, and was in a fair way of being as infamous as the worst of them." This, not oratory, was what young Whitefield learned from plays and acting. He fell into sins, of which he says, — " their dismal ef- fects I have felt and groaned under ever since." Of course, this progress in vice was gradual. During his first two years at school, he bought, and read with much atten- tion. Ken's Manual for Winchester Scholars : a book com- mended to him by the use made of it by his mother in her afflictions. He was also a diligent scholar, and for some time made considerable progress in the Latin classics. But the amusements which alienated his heart from virtue, gradually WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 7 impaired his taste for education. " Before I was fifteen, hav- ing, as I thought, made sufficient progress in the classics, and, at the bottom, longing to he set at liberty from the confine- ment of a school, I one day told my mother, — that since her circumstances would not permit her to give me a University education, more learning, I thought, would spoil me for a tradesman, and therefore I judged it best not to learn Latin any longer. She at first refused to consent, but my corruptions soon got the better of her good nature. Hereupon for some time I went to learn to write only. But my mother's circum- stances being much on the decline; and, being tractable that way, I began to assist her occasionally in the public-house, till at length I put on my blue apron and my snuffers — washed mops — cleaned rooms, and in one word, became professed and common draioer for nigh a year and a half." Thus he exchanged the confinement of a school for the im- prisonment of an inn ; and, as might be expected in such a place, he was twice or thrice intoxicated. It does not appear, however, that he was addicted to drinking. — "He who was with David when he was 'following the ewes big with young," was with me here. For, notwithstanding I was thus employed in a common inn, and had sometimes the care of the whole house upon my hands, yet / composed two or three sermons, and dedicated one of them, in particular, to my elder brother. One time, I remember, I was much pressed to self-examination, but found myself very unwilling to look into my heart. Fre- quently I read the Bible, while sitting up at night. Seeing the boys go by to school, has often cut me to the heart. And a dear youth would often come, entreating me, whilst serving at the bar, to go to Oxford. My general answer was, — I wish T could." " After I had continued about a year in servile employment, my mother was obliged to leave the inn. My brother, who had been bred up for the business, married ; whereupon all was made over to him ; and I being accustomed to the house, it was agreed that I should continue there as an assistant. But God's thoughts were not as our thoughts. By his good providence it happened, that my sister-in-law and I could by no means agree ; and, at 8 whitefield's life and times. length, the resentment grew to such a height, that my proud heart would scarce suffer me to speak to her for three weeks together. But, notwithstanding I was much to blame, yet I used to retire and weep before the Lord, as Hagar when flying from Sarah : little thinking that God, by this means, was forcing me out of the public business, and calling me from drawing wine for drunkards, to draw water from the wells of salvation for the refreshment of his spiritual Israel. After continuing for a long time under this burden of mind, I at length resolved (thinking my absence would make all things easy) to go away. Accord- ingly, by the advice of my brother and consent of my mother, I went to see my elder brother, then settled in Bristol." During a residence of two months in Bristol, Whitefield ex- perienced some awakenings of conscience. Once, in St. John's church, he was so affected by the sermon, that he resolved to prepare himself for the sacrament, and decided against returning to the inn. This latter resolution he communicated by letter to his mother ; and the former was so strong, that, during his stay in Bristol, reading Thomas a Kempis was his chief delight. " And I was always impatient till the bell rung to call me to tread the courts of the Lord's house. But in the midst of these illuminations, something surely whispered, — this would not last. And, indeed, it so happened. For (oh that I co\dd write it in tears of blood !) when I left Bristol and returned to Gloucester, I changed my devotion with my place. Alas, all my fervour went off. I had no inclination to go to church, or draw nigh to God. In short, my heart was far from him. However, I had so nmch religion left, as to persist in my resolution not to live in the inn; and, therefore, my mother gave me leave, though she had but a little income, to have a bed on the ground, and live at her house, till Providence should point out a place for me. " Having now, as I thought, nothing to do, it was a proper season foK Satan to tempt me. Much of my time I spent in reading plays, and in sauntering from place to place. I was careful to adorn my body, but took little pains to deck and beautify my soul. Evil communications with my old school- fellows, soon corrupted my good manners. By seeing their evil practices, the sense of the divine presence, I had vouchsafed whitefield's life and times. 9 unto me, insensibly wore off my mind. But God would let no- thing pluck me out of his hands, though I was continually doing despite to the Spirit of grace. He even gave me some foresight of his providing for me. One morning as I was reading a play to my sister, said I, ' Sister, God intends something for me, which we know not of. As I have been diligent in business, I believe many would gladly have me for an apprentice, but every way seems to be barred up ; so that I think God will provide for me some way or other, that we cannot apprehend.' " Having thus lived with my mother for some considerable time, a young student, who was once my schoolfellow, and then a servitor of Pembroke College, Oxford, came to pay my mother a visit. Amongst other conversation, he told her, how he had discharged all college expenses that quarter, and saved a penny. Upon that my mother immediately cried out, ' This will do for my son I ' Then turning to me, she said, ' Will you go to Ox- ford, George?^ I replied,' With all viy heart.'' Whereupon, having the same friends that this young student had, my mother, without delay, waited on them. They promised their interest, to get me a servitor's place in the same college. She then applied to my old master, who much approved of my coming to school again. In about a week, I went and re-entered myself; and being grown much in stature, my master addressed me thus : ' I see, George, you are advanced in stature, hut your better part must needs have gone backward.' This made me blush. He set me something to translate into Latin, and though I had made no application to my classics for so long a time, yet I had but one inconsiderable fault in my exercises. This, I believe, somewhat surprised my master. " Being re-settled at school, I spared no pains to go forward in my book. I learned much faster than I did before." But, whilst thus assiduously preparing himself for college, it does not appear that he began to study, with an express view to the ministry : if, however, this was his object at the time, and if he never, altogether, relinquished the design, which the composition of sermons betrayed, then the following events furnish a melan- choly insight, not only into the presumption of his own heart, but into the prevailing maxims of that age — upon the subject of 10 whitefield's life and times. the christian ministry. These must have been low and lax in the extreme, if they allowed siich a young man to anticipate office in the church. He was, indeed, diligent in studying the classics, but he was, at the same time, living in the indulgence of secret and open profligacy. " I got acquainted with a set of debauched, abandoned, and atheistical youths — I took pleasure in their lewd conversation — I affected to look rakish, and was in a fair way of being as infamous as the worst of them." It is hardly possible to conceive that, while in this state, he should have contemplated the ministry as his object ; and yet there is reason to fear that the tone of public feeling, at the time, was such as to impose little check upon the morals of ministerial candidates. Even iiow holy character is not indispensable, either in college halls, or at national altars ; and then, as we shall see, it was still less so. Certain it is, that Whitefield's reformation was neither suggested nor enforced, in the first in- stance, by any thing moral or religious which the general j)rac- tice of the church insisted upon. Whatever the letter of her requirements calls for in candidates, the spirit of them was. in a great measure, evaporated in that age. I have, already, said that Whitefield is silent upon the subject of his express design in preparing himself for the University ; but, there being no evidence that he ever contemplated any other profession than the ministerial, and it being the only one for which he had evinced the shadow of a partiality, or was likely to succeed in, under his circumstances, — we must con- clude, that he had it in view from the beginning. Such, in all probability, being the fact, it might be expected, that the bare idea of becoming a minister would, of itself, have imposed a restraint upon his passions ; — ^but neither its own solemnity, nor the tone of ecclesiastical feeling at the time, had any moral influence upon him. " I went," he says, " to public service only to make sport and walk about." At this time he was nearly seventeen years of age : a period of life when he must have been capable of understanding what is expected from a clergyman. And yet, nothing which he saw or heard on this subject seems to have suggested the necessity of reformation. " God stopped me when running on in a full career of vice. For, just as I whitefield's life and- times. 11 was upon the brink of ruin, He gave me such a distaste of their (his companions') principles and practices, that I discovered them to my master, who soon put a stop to their proceedings." I have been the more minute in recording this event, because without clear and correct ideas of the prevailing tone of public and ecclesiastical feeling, at the time, no fair estimate can be formed of the spirit in which methodism originated at Oxford. The breaking up of that vicious combination which existed in the school of St. Mary de Crypt produced an important change in the morals of Whitefield. " Being thus delivered out of the snare of the devil, I began to be more and more serious, and felt God at different times working powerfully and convincingly upon my soul." This improvement of character was so evident, that his friends did not fail to welcome it. It was, however, but external at first. " One day as I was coming down-stairs, and overheard my friends speaking well of me, God deeply convicted me of hypocrisy." This timely discovery fixed his attention upon the state of his heart, and gave to his reformation a more religious character. " Being now near the seventeenth year of my age, I was re- solved to prepare myself for the holy sacrament ; which I receiv- ed on Christmas day. I began now to be more watchful over my thoughts, words, and actions. I kept the following Lent, fasting Wednesday and Friday, thirty-six hours together. My evenings, when I had done waiting upon my mother, were gene- rally spent in acts of devotion, reading Drelincourt ' upon Death,' and other practical books, and I constantly went to public worship twice a day. Being now upper boy, I made some reformation amongst my schoolfellows. I was very diligent in reading and learning the classics, and in studying my Greek Testament ; but I was not yet convinced of the absolute unlawfulness of play- ing at cards, and of reading and seeing plays ; though I began to have some scruples about it. Near this time, I dreamed that I was to see God on mount Sinai ; but was afraid to meet him. This made a great impression upon me, and a gentle- woman to whom I told it, said, " George, this is a call from God.'' Whatever may be thought of the dream, or of the interpretation, such hints have more frequently determined the character and 12 whitefield's life and times. pursuits of young men, than more rational means. There is, to a susceptible mind, a peculiar fascination in these mysterious oracles ; and, after all that has been said of their folly and fal- lacy, they continue to govern the choice of many, and are still followed as leading stars, — whilst sober advice is regarded as a dull finger-post on the road of life. In the present instance the imaginary omens were not useless. " I grew more serious after my dream ; but yet hypocrisy crept into every action. As once I affected to look more rakish, I now strove to look more grave, than I really was. However, an uncommon con- cern and alteration was visible in my behaviour, and I often used to find fault with the lightness of others. One night as I was going on an errand for my mother, an unaccountable but very strong impression was made upon my heart, that I should preach quickly. When I came home, I innocently told my mother what had befallen me ; but she (like Joseph's parents, when he told them his dream) turned short upon me, crying out, ' What does the hoy mean ? Pritliee, Jiolcl thy tongue !' " For a twelvemonth I went on in a round of duties, receiv- ing the sacrament monthly, fasting frequently, attending con- stantly on public worship, and praying, often more than twice a day, in private. One of my brothers used to tell me, he fear- ed this would not hold long, and that I should forget all when I went to Oxford. This caution did me much service ; for it set me on praying for perseverance. Being now near eighteen years old, it was judged proper for me to go to the University. God had sweetly prepared my way. The friends before applied to, recommended me to the master of Pembroke College. An- other friend took up ten pounds upon bond (which I have since repaid) to defray the first expense of entering ; and the master, contrary to all expectation, admitted me servitor immediately." When Whitefield entered the University of Oxford, that seat of learning had not shaken off the moral lethargy which followed the ejectment of the 2000 nonconformists. The Bartholomew Bushel, under which those burning and shining lights were placed, proved an extinguisher to the zeal of the luminaries that struck into the orbit of uniformity. Those of them who retain- ed their light lost their heat. During the seventy years, which whitefield's life and times. 13 had elapsed since the expulsion of the nonconformists, the Isis had heen changing into a Dead sea, upon the hanks of which the tree of life shrivelled into a tree of mere human knowledge ; and, in the adjacent halls, the doctrines of the Reformation were superseded, in a great measure, hy high church principles. Even irreligion and infidelity were so prevalent at hoth Univer- sities, that when the statue of the age was chiselled by that moral Phidias, Butler, they seem to have furnished the model. " It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious ; and, ac- cordingly, they treat it as if, in the present age, this were an agreed point among all people of discernment ; and nothing re- mained but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridi- cule, as it were by way of reprisals for its having so long inter- rupted the pleasures of the world." Bishop Butler s Analogy. So much was this the character of the after-dinner conversa- tions at Oxford, that the recent change from gross ribaldry to decorum, used to be appealed to with triumph, by Coleridge, and other modern advocates : a fact, which betrays the former state of things. Even the defences of Christianity, which issued from the University press during that age, betray the fatal secret, that they were as much wanted for the gownsmen, as for the public. Bishop Butler says of this state of things, " It is come, I know not how ;" but he might have known soon, if he had studied the " analogy " between it and the discipline of the colleges. What else could be expected from a nation or a uni- versity, after seeing the brightest ornaments of the church sacri- ficed to rites and ceremonies ; after seeing talents, learning, and piety reckoned " as the small dust in the balance," when weigh- ed against robes and forms ? After witnessing diocesan and state patronage withdrawn, and exchanged for penalties on such grounds, it was not likely that Christianity would be better treated by the nation, than its faithful ministers were by the government.- From that time, down to the year 1734, when Whitefield entered at Pembroke College, the motto of the Uni- versity might have been, " We care less for character than for conformity." 14 whitefield's life and times. " A dissolution of all bonds ensued ; The curbs invented for the mulish mouth Of headstrong youth were broken ; bolts and bars Grew rusty by disuse ; and massy gates Forgot their office, opening with a touch ; Till gowns at length are found mere masquerade ; The tasselled cap, and the spruce band, a jest, A mockery of the world ! " Cotcper. Such Whitefield found the general character of the Oxford students to be. " I was quickly solicited to join in their excess of riot, by several who lay in the same room. Once in particu- lar, it being cold, my limbs were so benumbed by sitting alone in my study, because I would not go out amongst them, that I could scarce sleep all night. I had no sooner received the sa- crament publicly on a week day, at St. Mary's, but I was set up as a mark for all the polite students, that knew me, to shoot at; for though there is a sacrament at the beginning of every term, at which all, especially the seniors, are by statute obliged to be present ; yet, so dreadfully has that once faithful city played the harlot, that very few masters, no graduates, (but the me- thodists,) attended upon it." I quote the latter part of this extract, not to deplore the fall- ing off in attendance, as Whitefield does : the sacrament was " More honoured in the breach, than the observance" of the statute, by such men ; but the breach illustrates both the state of discipline and of religion at the time. There were, however, some lilies among the rank thorns of Oxford. Of these solitary exceptions, the Wesleys and their associates were the most exemplary. This little band had then existed during five years, and were called, in derision, methodists. Their re- gular habits and rigid virtue, were proverbial throughout the University and the city. They were the friends of the poor, and the patrons of the serious. But, with all these excellences of character, the Wesleys united much enthusiasm, and an almost incredible degree of ignorance in regard to the gospel. Their avowed object, in all their voluntary privations and zeal- ous efforts, was, to save iheir souls, and to live icholly to the glory whitefield's life and times, 15 of God : a noble enterprise, certainly -, but undertaken by them from erroneous motives, and upon wrong principles. For any relief which their consciences seem to have obtained from the death of the Son of God, and the free salvation proclaimed in virtue of it, the gospel might have been altogether untrue or unknown ; so grossly ignorant were the whole band at one time. And yet, at this period, Mr. John Wesley was a fellow of Lin- coln College, and teaching others. Nine years before, he had been ordained by Dr. Potter, who was afterwards archbishop of Canterbury. This fact reveals one of two things : either, that the young men were very inattentive to the tlieological lectures delivered from the divinity chair, or that the lectures themselves were very unscriptural. Perhaps the fault lay partly on both sides ; for it is highly probable, that such young men would underrate the cold, systematic lectures of a professor. I am led to form this opinion, because the celebrated mystic, William Lmv, was, at the time, their oracle. They imitated his ascetic habits, and imbibed his spirit of quietism. He had said to John Wesley, who was likely to circulate the notion, " You would have a phi- losophical religion, but there can be no such thing. Religion is the most simple thing : it is only, We love Him because he first loved us," Such indefinite maxims assimilated, but too readily, with the mystic temper of the persons they were ad- dressed to ; and silent contemplation, in solitude, being the very spirit of Law's system, Wesley and his associates were not likely to relish argumentative theology, however excellent. The following account of their devotional habits, will illustrate the true character of their religious sentiments, at the time of Whitefield's arrival from Gloucester. " They interrogate them- selves whether they have been simple and recollected ; whether they have prayed with fervour, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and on Saturday noon ; if they have used a collect at nine, twelve, and three o'clock ; duly meditated on Sunday, from three to four, on Thomas a Kempis ; or mused on Wednesday and Friday, from twelve to one, on the Passion." Thus were they monks in almost every thing except the name. It was necessary to delineate thus minutely the original cha- 16 whitefield's life and times. racter of methodism, that its natural influence upon the suscep- tible mind of l^Tiitefield may be anticipated. Suffering and smarting, as he did, from vicious indulgence, and now seriously bent upon the ministry, he was not likely to associate with the profligate or the profane in the University. He did not. " God gave me grace to withstand, when they solicited me to join in their excess of riot. When they perceived they could not pre- vail, they let me alone, as a singular, odd fellow." He did not, however, join himself to the methodists at once. " The young men, so called, were then much talked of at Oxford. I heard of and loved them before I came to the University; and so strenuously defended them, when I heard them reviled by the students, that they began to think that I also, in time, should be one of them. For above a twelvemonth, my soul longed to be acquainted with some of them, and I was strongly pressed to follow their good example, when I saw them go through a ridiculing crowd, to receive the holy eucharist at St. Mary's." How much he was prepared to enter into their peculiar spirit when he did join them, will appear also from the following hint. " Before I went to the University, I met with Jfr. Law's ' Seri- ous Call to Devout Life,' but had not money to purchase it. Soon after my coming up to the University, seeing a small edition of it in a friend's hand, I soon procured it. God worked powerfully upon my soul by that excellent treatise." Thus, like two drops of water, they were quite prepared to unite whenever they came in contact. And this soon occurred. " It happened that a poor woman, in one of the workhouses, had attempted to cut her throat, but was happily prevented. Upon hearing of this, and knowing that the two Mr. Wesleys were ready to every good work, I sent a poor aged apple-woman of our college, to inform Mr. Charles Wesley of it ; charging her not to discover who sent her. She went ; but, contrary to my orders, told my name. He having heard of my coming to the castle, and to a parish church sacrament, and having met me frequently walking by myself, followed the woman when she was gone away, and sent an invitation to me by her, to come to breakfast with him the next morning. I thankfully embraced the opportunity. My whitefield's life and times. 17 soul, at that time, was athirst for some spiritual friends to lift up my hands when hung down, and to strengthen my feeble knees. He soon discovered it, and, like a wise winner of souls, made all his discourses tend that way. And when he put into my hands Professor Frank's ' Treatise against the Fear of Man,' and ' The Country Parson's Advice to his Parishioners,' I took my leave. " In a short time he let me have another book, entitled, ' The Life of God in the Soul of Man ;' and though I had fasted, watched, and prayed, and received the sacrament so long, yet I never knew what true religion was, till God sent me that excel- lent treatise, by the hands of my never-to-be-forgotten friend. At my first reading it, I wondered what the author meant by saying, * That some falsely placed religion in going to church, doing hurt to no one, being constant in the duties of the closet, and now and then reaching out their hands to give alms to their poor neighbours.' Alas ! thought I, if this be not religion, what is ? God soon showed me ; for in reading a few lines further, ' that true religion was a union of the soul with God, and Christ formed tvithin us,' a ray of divine light was instanta- neously darted in upon my soul, and from that moment, but not till then, did I know that I must be a new creature." This was an important era in Whitefield's experience ; and, if he had been left to the guidance of the book that suggested the necessity of regeneration, his feet might soon have stood upon the Rock of ages. He was now in the right track to Calvary ; and, with his anxiety to " be born again," would have held on, until he had discovered that, " to as many as received Him, Christ gave power to become the sons of God ; even to them that believe on his name." But, unhappily, Whitefield was not left to follow out his own convictions : Charles Wesley — " ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to estahlish his own righteousness '^ — interfered with the young convert, and inoculated him with the virus of legality and quietism. Before Whitefield had time to acquire from the gospel the relief which his heavy-laden conscience longed for, he was introduced to the methodists ; from kind motives on the part of his zealous friend, no doubt ; but unhappily for himself. 18 whitefield's life and times. The intimacy well nigh proved fatal to his life, and to his reason. " From time to time, Mr. Wesley permitted me to come unto him, and instructed me as I was able to bear it. By degrees he introduced me to the rest of his christian brethren. I now began, like them, to live by rule, and to pick up every fragment of my time, that not a moment of it might be lost. Like them, having no weekly sacrament (although the Rubrick required it) at our own college, I received every Sunday at Christ-Church. I joined with them in keeping the stations, by fasting Wednes- days and Fridays, and left no means unused which I thought would lead me nearer to Jesus Christ. By degrees I began to leave off eating fruits and such like, and gave the money I usually spent in that way to the poor. Afterward I always chose the worst sort of food, though my place furnished me with variety. My apparel was mean. I thought it unbecoming a penitent to have his hair powdered. I wore woollen gloves, a patched gown, and dirty shoes ; and though I was then con- vinced that the kingdom of God did not consist in meats and drinks, yet I resolutely persisted in these voluntary acts of self- denial, because I found them great promoters of the spiritual life. It was now suggested to me, that Jesus Christ was amongst the wild beasts when he was tempted, and that I ought to follow his example ; and being willing, as I thought, to imi- tate Jesus Christ, after supper I went into Christ- Church walk, near our college, and continued in silent prayer nearly two hours ; sometimes lying flat on my face, sometimes kneeling upon my knees. The night being stormy, it gave me awful thoughts of the day of judgment. The next night I repeated the same exercise at the same place. Soon after this, the holy season of Lent came on, which our friends kept very strictly ; eating no flesh during the six weeks, except on Saturdays and Sundays. I abstained frequently on Saturdays also, and ate nothing on the other days (except Sunday) but sage-tea without sugar, and coarse bread. I constantly walked out in the cold mornings, till part of one of my hands was quite black. This, with my continued abstinence, and inward conflicts, at length so emaciated my body, that, at Passion-week, finding I could whitefield's life and times. 19 scarce creep up-stairs, I was obliged to inform my kind tutor of my condition, who immediately sent for a physician to me." While it is impossible to read this catalogue of extravagances, without pitying the wretched suiFerer and his superstitious friends, it is equally impossible to refrain from smiling and frowning, alternately, at the gross absurdities of quietism, and the foolish requirements of the Rubrick. Many of both are equal outrages upon common sense ; to say nothing of their being unscriptural. But these were not the only baneful effects of Whitefield's intimacy with the methodists. " The course of my studies I soon entirely changed : whereas, before, I was busied in studying the dry sciences, and books that went no farther than the surface, I now resolved to read only such as entered into the heart of religion. Meeting with Castanza's ' Spiritual Combat,' in which he says, that ' he that is employed in mortifying his will, was as well employed as though he was converting the Indians,' Satan so imposed upon my understand- ing, that he persuaded me to shut myself up in my study, till I could do good with a single eye ; lest in endeavouring to save others, I should, at last, by pride and self-complacence, lose myself. When Castanza advised to talk but little, Satan said, I must not talk at all ; so that I, who used to be the most for- ward in exhorting my companions, have sat whole nights with- out speaking at all. Again, when Castanza advised to endea- vour after a silent recollection, and waiting upon God, Satan told me, I must leave all forms, and not use my voice in prayer at all." These habits soon affected his college exercises also. " Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a word, nor so much as to tell my christian friends of my inability to do it. All power of meditating, or even thinking, was taken from me. My memory quite failed me. And I could fancy myself to be like nothing so much as a man locked up in iron armour." Having twice neglected to produce the weekly theme, his tutor called him into the common room, after fining him, and kindly inquired whether any calamity had befallen him, or v/hat was the reason of his neglect ? "I burst into tears, and assured him, that it was not out of contempt of authority, but c 2 20 WHITEFIELU'S LIFE AND TIMES. that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he said, he believed I could not ; and, when he left me, told a friend (as he very well might) that he took me to be really mad. This friend, hearing what had happened from my tutor, came to me, urging the command in Scripture,' to be subject to the higher powers.' I answered. Yes; hut I had a neio revelation. Lord, what is man ! " During the progress of this direful malady, the Wesleys were not wanting, either in attention or tenderness, to their unhappy friend ; and if, like Job's friends, they were miserable comfort- ers, still, their motives claim the highest respect. They would have brought him " water from the well of Bethlehem " at any expense ; but, like Hagar weeping over her fainting child in the wilderness, their own eyes were not then opened to see that well. It is only bare justice to make this acknowledgment. I have exposed and censured, freely, the ignorance, mysticism, and su- perstition of the Wesleys ; I have deplored, in strong terms, the intimacy which Whitefield formed with the Oxford methodists ; and traced to their maxims and habits, as the direct cause, a great part of his extravagances ; but, in all this, I have been actuated by no prejudice against his friends, nor do my remarks upon methodism embrace the system as it now exists : they are, hitherto, entirely confined to its character at Oxford. Then, its influence, according to Mr. John Wesley's own acknowledg- ment, was that " of leading him into the desert to be tempted and humbled, and shown what was in his heart." Even Dr. Coke says of him, it is certain that he was then very little ac- quainted with true experimental religion. This is very obvious fi-om the advice which he gave to Whitefield, when his case was so pitiable, that Charles Wesley was afraid to prescribe. " He advised me to resume all my externals, though not to depend on them in the least." Now, however wise the latter clause of this rule may be, the former part is pitiable: " all" Whitefield's " externals" included many of the very habits which had un- hinged his mind, and ruined his health. He did, however, " resume " them, and the result was, " a fit of sickness which continued during seven weeks." His tutor seems to have been the only person about him who acted wisely. Charles Wesley vvhitefield's life and times. 21 referred him to chapters in A Kempis : John, to the maxims of quietism. " My tutor lent me books, gave me money, visited me, and furnished me with a physician : in short, he behaved in all respects like a father." The reader must not suppose, however, that Whitefield him- self arraigns the imprudence of his young friends ; or that he contrasts, as I have ventured to do, their measures with those of his tutor : no, indeed ; he records both with equal gratitude, and uniformly pronounces benedictions upon the authors. Even when he became the opponent of John Wesley, on the subject of " free grace," and might have pointed his arguments by an appeal to the early errors of his rival, he does not so much as hint at them, but prefaces his letter by declaring, " Was nature to speak, I had rather die than write against you." I, however, have no such scruples on this head : but, Avhile I shall avoid doing injustice to the Wesleys, I shall canvass as freely their influence upon Whitefield, as that of any other persons with whom he came in contact. The formation of his character must be shown, without regard to the light in which it may exhibit the forces that determined it. The seven weeks of sickness, already mentioned, Whitefield calls, " a glorious visitation." " The blessed Spirit was all this time purifying my soul. All my former gross, notorious, and even my heart sins also, were now set home upon me ; of which I wrote down some remembrances immediately, and confessed them before God morning and evening." This exercise, al- though more humiliating and mortifying than even his fasts and austerities, was infinitely more useful. While they led him only to Castanza and A Kempis — this led him direct to the gospel, and to the throne of grace. Unable to sustain such views of the evil of sin, and having failed, in all his former efforts, to remove a sense of guilt by a series of observances, he was now shut up to the faith. " Though weak, I often spent two hours in my evening retirements, and prayed over my Greek Testament, and Bishop Hall's most excellent ' Contemplations.' " While thus engaged in searching the Scriptures, he discovered the true grounds of a sinner's hope and justification. The testimony of God concerning his Son became "^ power unto salvation.'^ " I 22 whitefield's life and times. found and felt in myself, that I was delivered from the burden that had so heavily oppressed me. The spirit of mourning was taken from me, and I knew what it was truly to rejoice in God my Saviour. For some time I could not avoid singing psalms wherever I was ; but my joy became gradually more settled. Thus were the days of my mourning ended : after a long night of desertion and temptation, the star, which I had seen at a dis- tance hefore, began to appear again : the day-star arose in my heart." Such is the history of Whitefield's conversion : in this manner was he rescued from the malignant snares of the devil, and from the Llind guidance of friends who were unconsciously strength- ening these snares, and unintentionally enabling the arch-de- ceiver to keep this brand in the burning. This, I am aware, is strong language ; and, by many, will be considered unwarrant- able : but, as Whitefield will ever be a grand object of attention in the church of Christ ; and as myriads, yet unborn, will study his character or hear of his conversion ; it shall not be my fault, if that conversion is misunderstood by posterity, or any thing gathered from it in behalf of such methodism as he was led into then. I duly appreciate the benevolence, the zeal, and the sincerity of the Wesleys ; but, in this instance, and at that time, those virtues rank no higher in them, than the same virtues in Ma- homedans or Hindoos ; — amount to no more at Oaford than they would at Mecca or Benares. Now if, instead of the Wes- leys, the same number of Wahabees had been about A^'hitefield, inculcating their simplified Islamism ; who would have ascribed to them, or to it, any usefulness ? Both would have been arraigned, as diverting him from the gospel of Christ ; nor would the sincerity of the Wahabees, or the self-denying character of their habits, have shielded either from severe reprehension. The only apology that any one would have thought of offering for them, would have been, " / wot tJiat ihrough ignorance ye did it." In like manner I am quite ready to say of the Wesleys, " I bear them record, that they had a zeal of God ; hit not ac- cording to knowledge :" a fact, which neutralizes their Oxford piety into well-meant superstition. Such explanations are whitefield's life and times. 23 wanted, now that devotion apart from faith, and penitential feel- ing apart from the knowledge of " the truth," are often hailed as conversion to God. This is a sore evil under the sun ; and one not easily touched, without seeming to slight symptoms of piety. I must, however, attempt to unmask this plausible "form of godliness," whatever suspicions my freedom may awaken. Whitefield, in the simplicity of his heart, calls the events of this period "the dealings of God" with him, and records them as the gradual steps by which he was led to believe in Christ for righteousness. And, so far as they were made in- strumental in discovering to him his own weakness, and in weaning him from sin and vanity, they were " the dealings of God ;" but, so far as his maxims and habits were superstitious and unscriptural, God must not be identified with them, nor even implicated in the least. All the hand He had in this part of the transaction was, that he made these austerities and superstitions their own punishment, and prevented them from ruining an ignorant young man. So far as their own natural influence went, it increased the spirit of bondage, and diverted the sinner from God's appointed remedy. We have seen from Whitefield's own acknowledgments, and Wesley's too, that the further such measures were pursued, the further the methodists were from solid relief. Now, it cannot be supposed for a mo- ment, that God's dealings with the soul divert it from the Saviour ; nor that any thing is the work of His Spirit on the heart, which leads to absurdities and extravagance. And if this be granted, then a great part of those things in the expe- rience of W hitefield, which strike the mind so forcibly, lose all their importance, except as facts. As feelings, motives, or maxims in religion, they have no weight ; but were, while they continued, the actual rivals of faith and evangelical repent- ance. For any thing, therefore, which appears to the contrary, his conversion v/ould not have been less genuine, if he had never gone through the exercise of mind produced by these causes. The horror, the depression, the despair, which pre- ceded his being born again, were neither elementary nor neces- sary parts of regeneration. Humanly speaking, a clear exhi- 24 whitefield's life and times. bition of the plan of salvation, if presented to him when he entered Oxford, would have relieved his mind at once, and in- troduced him into the liberty of the sons of God. He was not, indeed, so fully prepared to prize the gospel then, as when he did believe it with the heart ; but, although less humble, less in earnest, at the time of his arrival, even then he was awakened to a sense of his guilt and danger. Now, the ques- tion is, would not the gospel itself, if it had been preached to him at this time, have effected a change of heart ? Would not the glad tidings of a finished salvation, addressed to him, as he was, have melted, humbled, and converted him, without the preliminary process he went through ? The only thing valuable in that process is, the humbling effect of it ; but if the same kind and degree of humility would result from believ- ing the gospel, then, faith in Christ ought to be the Jirst step pressed upon an awakened sinner. I have been induced to throw out these hints, because so many persons imagine that they have no warrant for believing in Christ, until they experience such convictions, and possess such feelings, as converts like Whitefield did. The conse- quence is, that they live on, looking for wdiat ihei/ call " a day of power," which shall qualify them for the exercise of faith. This false and fatal maxim must not be allowed to shelter itself in the example of Whitefield ; and that it may not intrench itself there, I have felt it my duty to expose the true character of his preliminary experience. It was useful ; but how ? Not by its own direct influence ; that was injurious in every sense ; but its usefulness in humbling, and in emptying him of self- dependence, arose from its being overruled for good by the Spirit of God. This being the fact, let no one quote White- field's experience in proof of the necessity of going through such a process of awakening as he underwent. The gospel itself is " power unto salvation to every one that believeth ;" and no- thing is religion, which precedes the belief of it, except such exercises as naturally lead to faith. Although I have grouped, into one view, the mental aberra- tions and bodily sufferings of Whitefield whilst at Oxford, there were, during the period it embraces, calm and lucid intervals. whitefield's life and times. 25 in which he combined with his studies, efforts to do good in the city. Like his friends, he was the friend of the poor ; but not without giving offence to his superiors. " I incurred the displeasure of the master of the college, who frequently chid, and once threatened to expel me, if I ever visited the poor again. Being surprised by this treatment, and overawed by his authority, I spake unadvisedly with my lips, and said, if it displeased him, I would not. My conscience soon smote me for this sinful compliance. I immediately re- pented, and visited the poor the first opportunity, and told my companions, if ever I was called to a stake for Christ's sake, I would serve my tongue as Archbishop Cranmer served his hand, — make that hum jirst.^'' Nor were his efforts confined to private houses : he constantly visited the town gaol to read and pray with the prisoners. One instance of this is too re- markable to be passed over. " As I was walking along, I met with a poor woman whose husband was then in bocardo, Oxford town gaol. Seeing her much discomposed, I inquired the cause. She told me, that not being able to bear the crying of her children, and having no- thing to relieve them, she had been to drown herself; but was mercifully prevented ; and said, she was coming to my room to inform me of it. I gave her some immediate relief, and desired her to meet me at the prison with her husband in the after- noon. She came ; and there God visited them both by his free grace. She was powerfully quickened ; and when I had done reading, he came to me like the trembling jailer, and grasping my hand, cried out, ' I am upon the brink of hell I ' From this time forward both of them grew in grace. God, by his providence, soon delivered him from his confinement. Though notorious offenders against God and one another before, yet now they became helps meet for each other in the great work of their salvation." In the same spirit he also exerted himself on behalf of his relations and friends at Gloucester. His discovery of the ne- cessity of regeneration, like Melancthon's discovery of the truth, led him to imagine, that no one could resist the evi- dence which convinced his own mind. " Upon this, like the 2G whitefield's life and times. woman of Samaria when Christ revealed himself to her at the well, I had no rest in my soul, till I wrote letters to my rela- tions, telling them there was such a thing as the new birth. I imagined they would have gladly received it ; but alas ! my words seemed to them as idle tales. They thought I was going beside myself." I have not been able to obtain any of the letters on this sub- ject, which he addressed to his own family ; but the following extract from one to a friend, will be a sufficient specimen of their character. " Lest you should imagine that true religion consists in any thing besides an entire renewal of our nature into the image of God, I have sent you a book entitled, " The Life of God in the Soul of Man," written by a young, but an eminent christian ; — which will inform you what true religion is, and how you may attain it ; as, likewise, how wretchedly most people err in their sentiments about it, who suppose it to be nothing else (as he tells us, page 3) but a mere model of outward performances ; without ever considering, that all our corrupt passions must be subdued, and a complex habit of virtues — such as meekness, low- liness, faith, hope, and the love of God and of man — be implant- ed in their room, before we can have the least title to enter into the kingdom of God. Our divine Master having expressly told us, that unless we " renounce ourselves, and take up our cross daily, we cannot be his disciples." And again, "unless we have the spirit of Christ, we are none of his." This advice met, we are informed, " with a cold reception/' and was an ungrateful subject to his friend at first; and yet, even while it was so, such were his own confused notions of religion, that he urges his friend to receive " the holy communion" frequently ; assuring him that " nothing so much bedwarfs us in religion, as staying away from the heavenly banquet." As if a man who had no relish for the doctrine of regeneration, could have any religion ! Having thus noticed the line of conduct which, notwith- standing all his crude notions, he pursued at Oxford, — I pro- ceed now to record the means by which he was supported during his stay at the University. It will be recollected that his chief dependence was upon the emoluments of servitorship. WHITEFIELd's life and TI3IES. 27 " Soon after my acceptance I went and resided, and found my having been used to a public-house was now of service to me. For, many of the servitors being sick, at my first coming up, by my diligent and steady attendance, I ingratiated myself into the gentlemen's favour so far, that many who had it in their power chose me to be their servitor. This much lessened my expense ; and, indeed, God was so gracious, that with the pro- fits of my place, and some little presents made me by my kind tutor, for almost the first three years I did not put all my rela- tions together to above £24 expense." When he joined himself to the methodists, the profits of his place were, as might be expected, diminished : a number " took away their pay from me ;" but other sources of supply were soon opened for him. Some of the methodists having left Oxford about this time, and being solicitous to keep up the society, wrote to Sir John Philips of London, commending Whitefield to his patronage, " as a proper person" to stay and encourage their friends in fight- ing the good fight of faith. " Accordingly he immediately off"ered me an annuity of twenty pounds. To show his disinterestedness, he has promised me that, whether I continue here or not ; and if I resolve to stay at Oxon, he'll give me thirty pounds a year. If that will not do, I may have more." In this manner was he provided for, when his original resources failed. The state of his health, however, compelled him to quit, for a time, his " sweet retirement" at Oxford, So long as he could, he resisted all the persuasions of his tutor and physician, and all the invitations of his mother to visit Gloucester. Their urgency at length prevailed, and he returned home, " My friends were surprised to see me look and behave so cheerfully, after the many reports they had heard concerning me," " However, I soon found myself to be as a sheep sent forth amongst wolves in sheep's clothing ; for they immediately en- deavoured to dissuade me from a constant use of the means of grace ; especially from weekly abstinence, and receiving the blessed sacrament. But God enabled me to resist them, sted- fast in the faith ; and, by keeping close to him in his holy ordi- nances, I was made to triumph over all." " Being unaccustomed for some time to live without spiritual 28 whitefield's life and times. companions, and finding none that would heartily join me — no, not one — I watched unto prayer all the day long ; beseeching God to raise me some religious associates in his own way and time. ' I will endeavour either to Jind or make a friend^ had been my resolution now for some time, and therefore after im- portunate prayer one day, I resolved to go to the house of one Mrs. W , to whom I had formerly read plays. Spectators, Pope's Homer, and such-like trifling books ; hoping the altera- tion she now would find in my sentiments, might, under God, influence her soul. God was pleased to bless the visit with the desired effect : she received the word gladly : she wanted to be taught the way of God more perfectly, and soon became ' a fool for Christ's sake.' Not long after, God made me instru- mental to awaken several young persons, who soon formed them- selves into a little society, and had quickly the honour of being despised at Gloucester, as we had been before them at Oxford. Thus, all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer perse- cution." As his efforts and usefulness, during the period of this visit to Gloucester, may be viewed as the dawn of his future zeal and success, it will be proper, before enumerating more instances, to record, distinctly, the manner in which he prepared himself for doing good to others. " My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the holy Scriptures upon my knees ; laying aside all other books, and praying over, if possible, every line and word. This proved meat indeed, and drink indeed, to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light, and power from above, I got more true knowledge from reading the book of God, in one month, than I could ever have acquired from all the writings of men. In one word, I found it profitable for reproof, for cor- rection, for instruction ; every way sufficient to make the man of God perfect, throughly furnished for every good work and word. About this time God was pleased to enlighten my soul, and bring me into the knowledge of his free grace — and the necessity of heing justl/ied in His sight hy faith only. This was more extraordinary, because my fi-iends at Oxford had rather inclined to the mystic divinity. Burkitt's and Henry's whitefield's life and times. 29 Expositions were of admirable use, to lead me into this and all other gospel truths. It is the good old doctrine of the church of England; it is what the holy martyrs, in Queen Mary's time, sealed with their blood." To these habits of reading, Whitefield added much secret prayer. " Oh, what sweet com- munion had I daily vouchsafed with God in prayer after my coming to Gloucester ! How often have I been carried out beyond myself, when meditating in the fields ! How assuredly I felt that Christ dwelt in me and I in Him, and how daily did I walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace ! " Such were Whitefield's private habits while attempting to be useful in public. His zeal and success will now be understood. " I always observed that as my inward strength increased, so my outward sphere of action increased proportionably. In a short time, therefore, I began to read to some poor people twice or thrice a week. I likewise visited two other little societies be- sides my own. Occasionally as business and opportunity per- mitted, I generally visited one or two sick persons every day ; and though silver and gold I had little of my own, yet in imita- tion of my Lord's disciples, who entreated in behalf of the fainting multitude, I used to pray unto Him ; and he, from time to time, inclined several that were rich in this world, to give me money ; so that I generally had a little stock for the poor always in my hand. One of the poor, whom I visited in this manner, was called effectually by God at the eleventh hour : she was a woman above threescore years old ; and I really be- lieve, died in the true faith of Jesus Christ." " At my first coming to Gloucester, being used to visit the prisoners at Oxford, I prayed most earnestly that God would open a door for me to visit the prisoners here also. Quickly after, I dreamed that one of the prisoners came to be instructed by me : it was much impressed upon my heart. In the morn- ing I went to the door of the county gaol ; — I knocked, but nobody came to open it. I waited still upon God in prayer ; and in some months after, came a letter from a friend at Ox- ford, desiring me to go to one Pehworth, who had broken out of Oxford gaol, and was retaken at Gloucester. As soon as I 30 whitefield's life and times. read this letter, it appeared to me that my prayer was now answered. Immediately I went to the prison : I met with the person, and finding him and some others willing to hear the word of God, (having gained leave of the keeper and two ordi- naries,) I constantly read to and prayed with them, every day I was in town. I also hegged money for them, whereby I was enabled to release some of them, and cause provision to be dis- tributed weekly among them ; as also to put such books into their hands as I judged most proper. I cannot say that any one of the prisoners was effectually wrought upon ; however, much evil was prevented, many were convinced, and my own soul was much edified and strengthened in the love of God and man." " During my stay here, God enabled me to give a public tes- timony of my repentance, — as to seeing and acting plays ; for, hearing the strollers had come to town, and knowing what an egregious offender I had been, I Avas stirred up to extract Mr. Law's excellent treatise, entitled ' The Absolute Unlawfulness of the Stage Entertainment.' The printer at my request put a little of it in the news, for six weeks successively ; and God was pleased to give it his blessing." In this manner White- field employed himself during nine months ; and one effect of pursuing such plans was, that " the partition-wall of bigotry and sect religion was soon broken down" in his heart. " I loved all, of whatever denomination, that loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity." This acknowledgment stands, in his diary, con- nected with an account of the benefit he derived from studying the works of the nonconformists. Baxter's " Call " and Allein's "Alarm," accorded so with his own ideas of fidelity andvnction, that wherever he recognised their spirit he acknowledged " a brother beloved." Upon this portion of his history, the mind dwells with almost unmixed delight : the only drawback is, the undue importance attached by him to dreams ; and even those, considered as an ■index to his waking thoughts, are interesting; revealing, as they do, his deep solicitude on behalf of sovds. His zeal was now according to knowledge ; — his object, at once, definite and scriptural ; — ^his measures direct and rational, — and his mo- VVHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 31 tives truly evangelical. Drawing his own hope and consolation immediately from the oracles of God, he led others direct to the same source ; shutting up to the faith those he asso- ciated with. In this respect Whitefield presents a striking contrast to Wesley, at the commencement of his public exer- tions. The latter, although equally conscientious, was so crazed with the crude notions of the mystics, that when he left Oxford to visit Georgia, Law's " Christian Perfection" was almost his text-book, while instructing his fellow-passengers. Accordingly the success of the two, at the time, was as different as the means which they severally adopted. While Whitefield won souls by reading the Scriptures, Wesley, by inculcating the austerities of the ascetics, laboured in vain : he was long " esteemed an Ishmael ; for his hand was against every man, and every man's hand was against him." During the latter part of Whitefield's residence in Gloucester, although "despised" by many, his friends multiplied in spite of all the odium which his opinions and practice called forth. They became urgent for his immediate ordination, and solicit- ous to see him in a sphere worthy of his talents and zeal. But such were, now, his views of the ministry, that he put a decided negative upon all their applications ; intrenching his refusal in a resolution of the diocesans, " not to ordain any under twenty- three years of age." He was not yet twenty-one. This ap- parently insurmountable objection was, however, soon removed. He obtained, about this time, an introduction to Lady Selwyn, who had marked her approbation of him by a handsome present of money, and by an immediate application to the bishop on his behalf. The character she seems to have given of him had its due weight with Dr. Benson. " As I was coming from the cathedral prayers, thinking of no such thing, one of the vergers called after me, and said, the bishop desired to speak with me. I immediately turned back, considering within myself, what I had done to deserve his Lordship's displeasure. When I came to the top of the palace stairs, the bishop took me by the hand, told me he was glad to see me, and bid me w^ait a little, till he had put off his habit, and he would return to me again. This gave me an opportunity of praying to God for his assistance. 32 avhitefield's life and times. and adoring him for his providence over me. At his coming again into the room^ the bishop told me that he had heard of my character, liked my behaviour at church ; and, inquiring my age, said, ' notwithstanding I have declared I would not ordain any one under three and twenty, yet I shall think it my duty to ordain you, whenever you come for holy orders.'' He then made me a present of five guineas to buy me a book." Thus was the chief external hinderance removed at once ; and with it, his hesi- tation vanished. " From the time I first entered the University, especially from the time I knew what was true and undefiled Christianity, I entertained high thoughts of the importance of the ministerial office, and was not solicitous what place should be prepared for me, but how I should be prepared for a place. That saying of the apostle, ' Not a novice, lest being iniffed up ivith pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil ;^ and that first question of our excellent ordination office, ' Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' used even to make me tremble, whenever I thought of entering into the ministry. The shyness of Moses and some other prophets, when God sent them out in a public capacity, I thought was sufficient to teach me, not to run until I was called. He who knoweth the hearts of men, is witness that I never prayed more earnestly against any thing, than I did against entering into this service of the church, so soon. Oftentimes I have been in an agony in prayer, when under convictions of my insufficiency for so great a work ; — with strong cries and tears, I have frequently said, ' Lord, I am a youth of uncircumcised lips : Lord, send me not into thy vineyard yet ! ' And sometimes I had reason to think God was angry with me for resisting his will. However, I was resolved to pray thus as long as I could. If God did not grant my request in keeping me out of it, I knew his grace would be sufficient to support and strengthen me whenever he sent me into the ministry." '^ To my prayers I added my endeavours, and wrote letters to my friends at Oxford, beseeching them to pray to God to disappoint my country friends, who were for my taking orders as soon as possible. Their answer was, ' Pray we the Lord of whitefield's life and times. 33 the harvest to send thee and many more labourers into his har- vest.' Another old and worthy minister of Christ, when I wrote to him about the meaning of the word novice, answered, it meant a novice in grace, and not in years ; and he was pleased to add — if St. Paul were then at Gloucester, he believed St. Paul would ordain me. All this did not satisfy me : I still con- tinued instant in prayer against going into holy orders, and was not thoroughly convinced it was the divine will, till God by his providence brought me acquainted with the bishop of Glou- cester." " Before I came home, the news had reached ray friends, who being fond of my having such a great man's favour, were very solicitous to know the event of my visit. Many things I hid from them ; but when they pressed me hard, I was obliged to tell them how the bishop, of his own accord, had offered to give me holy orders whenever I would. On which they, knowing how I had depended on the declaration his Lord- ship had made some time ago, said, and I then began to think myself, that, if I held out any longer, I should fight against God. At length I came to a resolution, by God's leave, to offer myself for holy orders the next Ember-days." Having thus surmounted his difficulties, he proceeded at once to prepare himself for ordination. He had, before, satis- fied himself of the truth of the Thirty-nine Articles, by com- paring them with the Scriptures ; but it does not appear that the Prayer Book, as a whole, was submitted to the same test : he seems to have taken its truth for granted. This is the mqre remarkable, because in every thing else he was conscientious. " I strictly examined myself by the qualifications required for a minister, in St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and also by every question that I knew would be put to me at the time of my ordination. This latter, I drew out in writing at large, and sealed my approbation of it every Sunday at the blessed sacra- ment. At length. Trinity Sunday being near at hand, and having my testimonials from the college, I went, a fortnight beforehand, to Gloucester, intending to compose some sermons, and to give myself more particularly to prayer. When I came to Gloucester, notwithstanding I strove and prayed for several days, and had matter enough in my heart, yet I was so restrain- D 34 whitefield's lifk and rniES. ed, that I could not compose any thing at all. I mentioned my case to a clergyman : he said, I was an enthusiast. I wrote to another, who was experienced in the divine life : he gave me some reasons, why God might deal with me in that manner ; and, withal, promised me his prayers. The remainder of the fortnight I spent in reading the several missions of the pro- phets and apostles, and wrestled with God to give me grace to follow their good examples. " About three days before the time appointed for ordination, the bishop came to town. The next evening I sent his Lord- ship an abstract of my private examination upon these two questions : ' Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon you this office and administration ? ' And, ' Are you called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ and the laws of this realm ? ' The next morning I waited upon the bishop. He received me with much love ; telling me, he was glad I was come, and that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made. Upon this I took my leave ; abashed with God's goodness to such a wretch, but, withal, exceedingly rejoiced, that, in every circumstance, he made my M^ay into the ministry so very plain before my face ! This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening, I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently, for about two hours, on behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me. On Sunday morning I rose early, and prayed over St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, ' Let no one despise thy youth.' When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but SamueVs standing a little child before the Lord, with a linen ephod. When the bishop laid his hands upon my head, my heart was melted down, and I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body, to the service of God's sanctuary. I read the gospel, at the bishop's command, with power, and afterward sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses, by partaking of the holy sacrament." His feelings and views upon this solemn occasion, are re- corded, still more forcibly, in two letters to a friend. The first is so excellent, that no apology is required for inserting it here entire. whitefield's life and times. 35 " Gloucester, June 20th, 1736. " My dear friend, This is a day much to be remembered, O, my soul ! for, about noon, I was solemnly admitted by good Bishop Benson, before many witnesses, into holy orders ; and was, blessed be God ! kept composed both before and after imposition of hands. I endeavoured to behave with unaffected devotion ; but not suit- able enough to the greatness of the office I was to undertake. At the same time, I trust, I answered to every question from the bottom of my heart, and heartily prayed that God might say. Amen. I hope the good of souls will be my only principle of action. liet come what will — life or death, depth or height — I shall henceforward live like one who this day, in the presence of men and angels, took the holy sacrament, upon the profession of being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon me that ministration in the church. This I began with reading prayers to the prisoners in the county gaol. Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of styling myself — ' a prisoner of the Lord,' I know not ; but indeed, my dear friend, I can call hea- ven and earth to witness, that when the bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a martyr for Him who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto Him are all future events and contingencies. I have thrown myself blindfold, and, I trust, without reserve, into his almighty hands ; only I would have you observe — tliat till you hear of m\j dying for or in my work, you will not be apprized of all tlie preferment that is expected hy G. W." TO THE SAME. " June 23. " Dear friend, Never a poor creature set up with so small a stock. * * * * My intention was, to make at least a hundred sermons, with which to begin the ministry ; but this is so far from being the case, that I have not a single one by me, except that which I made for a small christian society, and which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman, to convince him how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching. He kept it for D 2 36 wiutefield's life and times. a fortnight, and then sent it back, with a guinea for the loan of it ; telling me, he had divided it into two, and had preached it morning and evening to his congregation. With this sermon I intend to begin, God willing, next Sunday. * * * * Help, help me, my dear friend, with your warmest addresses to the throne of grace, that I may not only find mercy, but grace to help in time of need. * * * * Q, cease not ; for I must again repeat it, cease not to pray for G. W." The intense energy of these appeals to God and man, forms a striking contrast to his first views of the ministry, and leads the mind to expect a corresponding energy in his preaching. " Being restrained from writing, I could not preach in the afternoon, though much solicited thereto. But I read prayers to the poor prisoners ; being willing to let the Jirst act of my ministerial office be an act of charity. The next morning, waiting upon God in prayer, to know what he would have me to do, these words, ' ^peak out, Paul/ came with great power to my soul. Immediately my heart was enlarged ; and I preached on the Sunday following to a very crowded audience, with as much freedom as though I had been a preacher for some years." The following letter illustrates the truth of this statement, and excites curiosity about the sermon itself. " My dear friend. Glory ! glory ! glory I be ascribed to an Almighty Triune God. Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I preached my first ser- mon in the church of St. Mary De Crypt, where I was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the Lord's supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a large congregation together on the occasion. The sight, at first, a little awed me; but I was comforted by a heartfelt sense of the divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accus- tomed to public speaking when a boy at school ; and of exhort- ing and teaching the prisoners, and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the University. By these means I was kept from being daunted overmuch. As I proceeded, I perceived the whitefield's life and times. 37 fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd of those who knew me in my infant, childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of gospel authority. Some few mocked, but most, for the present, seemed struck ; and I have since heard, that a complaint had been made to the bishop, that I drove fifteen mad by the first sermon. The worthy pre- late, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday. Before then, I hope my sermon upon ' He that is in Christ is a new creature,' will be completed. Blessed be God, I now find freedom in writing. Glorious Jesus ! ' Unloose my stammering tongue to tell Thy love immense, unsearchable ! ' Being thus engaged, I must hasten to subscribe myself G. W." The sermon was on " The Necessity and Benefits of Religious Society," from Eccles. iv. 9 — 12, " Two are better than one," &c. That Whitefield should have chosen to commence his public ministry with such a subject, can only be accounted for by a reference to his peculiar circumstances. The social re- ligion of the Oxford methodists, and of the society he had formed in Gloucester, was a vaw tlting, the principles of which required to be explained and defended. He had to leave, that week, the little flock collected during his visit. They were to be as sheep without a shepherd ; and that they might not dis- perse on his departure, he wisely vindicated the object of such meetings, and removed some of the odium attached to them. In this point of view, the subject was well chosen, and quite consistent with his determination to know nothing among men, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. The sermon will be found in the fifth volume of his works ; but as it is not printed from his own manuscript, it would be unfair to quote from it any specimens of his style. And yet, even in its present form, it breathes, in no ordinary degree, that freshness and warmth which characterize all his writings. It is not rolled from that '' secret place of ihtoulcr," which the foregoing letters disclose 3S whitefield's life and times. in his bosom, and which afterv/ard pealed like the cloud on Sinai ; but it contains earnests of his future energy. It is not generally known, and this is not the place to explain it, but it is the fact, that whilst Whitefield never lost sight of his ordination vows, his views of the form of episcopal ordina- tion underwent such a change, that he declared to Ralph Er- skine, of his own accord, " I knew of no other way then ; but I would not have it in that way again, for a thousand Avorlds," The letter containing this acknowledgment, will be found in the Scotch part of his history. Perhaps no mind, since the apostolic age, has been more deeply affected, or suitably exercised, by " the laying on of hands," than Whitefield's was. A supernatural unction from the Holy One, could hardly have produced greater moral effects. That high sense of responsibility, that singleness of heart, that entire and intense devotedness of soul, body, and spirit, which characterized the first ambassadors of Christ, seems revived in him. Accordingly, after reading the narrative of his ordination, we naturally expect from Whitefield a sort of apostolic career. This would be anticipated, were we utterly ignorant of the re- sult. After witnessing at the altar, a spirit wound up to the highest pitch of ardour, throbbing and thrilling with strong emotions, and, like a renovated eagle, impatient to burst off, we naturally look for a corresponding swiftness of flight and width of sweep ; and feel that we shall not be surprised by any thing which follows. His unbosomings of himself disclose in his heart a " secret place of thunder," and " a fountain of tears," from which we expect alternate bursts of terror and tenderness — ^bolts of Sinai, and dew of Hermon ; and we shall not be dis- appointed. Agreeably to his engagement with Sir John Philips, Whitefield returned to Oxford, and took out his bachelor's de- gree. During his residence, he resumed the care of the me- thodist society, and of the poor. His stay at Oxford was, how- ever, but short. He received and accepted an invitation to officiate for a time in the chapel of the Tower of London. His first sermon in the metropolis was, however, preached in Bishopsgate church. On entering the pulpit, his juvenile aspect excited a general sneer of contempt ; but he had not spoken WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 39 long, when the sneer gave place to universal syinptoms of won- der and pleasure. The sermon stamped his character at once ; and from that time his popularity in London continued to in- crease. During his stay, which only extended to two months, he maintamed his usual habits of visiting the prisoners and the poor. About this time, letters were received from the Wesleys and Ingham, then in Georgia. Their descriptions of the moral con- dition of the British colonies in x\merica, affected his heart powerfully, and awakened in him a strong desire to preach the gospel abroad. It was an undertaking suited to his energetic and enterprising character ; and therefore sunk deeply amongst his thoughts. He could not, however, come to a final determination then, and therefore he returned to Oxford again. There, Whitefield devoted the chief part of his time to the study of Henry's Commentary ; which seems to have been a favourite book amongst his associates in the University. " God," says he, " works by him (Henry) greatly here." How highly he prized his own copy, may be judged fi'om his gratitude when he was able to pay for it. To the " fi-iend who furnished it, he writes, " Herewith I send you seven pounds to pay for Mr. Henry's Commentary. Dear Esqr. Thorold made me a present of ten guineas, so that now (for ever blessed be divine goodness !) I can send you more than I thought for." In a former letter he had said, " I hope to send you, in a short time, two guineas to- wards paying for Henry's Exposition." The study of this invaluable work was soon interrupted, by an invitation to officiate for a short time at Dummer in Hamp- shire. This was a very different sphere to any he had been ac- customed. The people were equally poor and illiterate ; but he v/as soon reconciled to them, and acknowledged that during his stay he had " reaped much spiritual benefit." While he con- tinued at Dummer, he adhered rigidly to his system of econo- mizing time ; dividing the day into iln^ee equal parts ; eight hours for sleep and meals ; eight for public prayers, catechising, and visiting ; and eight for study and devotional retirement. While thus occupied in obscurity, he was not forgotten in London: a profitable curacy in 1 he metropolis was offered to 40 whitefield's life and times. him ; but the chord touched by the spiritual wants of Georgia, had not ceased to vibrate in his inmost soul. From the moment it was struck, Oxford had no magnet, Hampshire no charms, the metropolis no fascination, for the young evangelist. He promptly and decidedly declined the lucrative and attractive curacy, being intent on going abroad. And an opportunity of gratifying his truly missionary spirit soon presented itself. " He received letters," says Dr. Gillies, " containing what ]te thought to he an invitation to go to Georgia, from Mr. John Wesley, whose brother came over about this time to procure more labourers." The doctor might have said " letters containing what tvas an invitation :" for although, at a future period, it was insinuated that Whitefield had intruded himself upon the sphere of the Wesleys in America, the imputation is unwarrant- ed. Charles Wesley both urged and encouraged him to leave England. The following extracts are from a poem addressed to Whitefield by Charles Wesley, at the time. 1. " Servant of God, the summons hear ; Thy Master calls — arise, obey ! The tokens of his will appear, His providence points out the way. * « * * « * 8. " Champion of God, thy Lord proclaim; Jesus alone resolve to know ; Tread down thy foes in Jesus' name ; Go ! conquering and to conquer, go. 9. " Through racks and fires pursue thy way ; Be mindful of a dying God ; Finish thy course, and win the day ; Look up — and seal the truth with blood ! " This impassioned adjuration to proceed to America, proves that Whitefield did not intrude himself on the mission, nor run unsent. Had Dr. Southey observed those lines, he would not have said, that " Charles did not invite him to the undertak- ing." The truth is, both brothers appealed to him in the form most likely to win his consent ; making the call appear to be whitefield's life and times. 41 from God. " Only Mr. Delamotte is with me," says John, " un- til God shall stir up the hearts of some of his servants to come over and help us. What if thou art the man, Mr. Whitefield ? Do you ask me what you shall have ? Food to eat, and raiment to put on ; a house to lay your head in, such as your Lord had not ; and a crown of glory that fadeth not away." This is a real invitation, or mockery ; and precisely in that spirit which White- field could not resist. Accordingly, on reading it, " his heart," he says, " leaped within him, and, as it were, echoed to the call." A concurrence of favourable circumstances at the time, enabled him, thus promptly, to embrace the proposal, and embark in the undertaking. Mr. Kinchin, the minister of Dummer, had been chosen dean of Corpus Christi College, and was willing to take upon him the charge of the prisoners at Oxford ; Harvey undertook to supply his place in the curacy ; and in Georgia, the novel sphere of usefulness, and the warm friendship of Wes- ley, were equally attractive, as inducements to leave England. The resolution thus formed, he solemnly confirmed by prayer ; and, that it might not be shaken by his relations at Gloucester, he wrote to assure them, that unless they would promise not to dissuade him, he would embark without seeing them. This promise they gave ; but they forgot it when he arrived. His aged mother, as might be expected, wept sorely ; and others, as Dr. Southey observes, who had no such cause to justify their interference, represented to him what " pretty preferment " he might have if he would stay at home. But, none of these things moved him : their influence was defeated by his own prayers, and by the weight of the bishop's opinion ; who, as usual, re- ceived him like a father, approved of his determination, and expressed his confidence that God would enable him to do much good abroad. From Gloucester he went to take leave of his friends at Bristol. During this visit, the mayor appointed him to preach before the corporation : even the quakers thronged to hear him. But the effect of his farewell sermons will be best told in his own words. " What shall I say ? Methinks it would be almost sinful to leave Bristol at this critical juncture. The whole city seems to be alarmed. Churches are as full on week-days, as they use to be on Sundays, and on Sundays so 42 whitefield's life and times. full, that many, very many are obliged to go away because they cannot come in. Oh that God would keep me always humble, and fully convinced that I am nothing without him ; and that all the good done upon earth, God himself doth it." — " The word was sharper than a two-edged sword ; the doctrine of the new birth made its way like lightning into the hearers' consciences. Sanctify it. Holy Father ! to thine own glory and thy people's good." Similar impressions were made in Bath and Gloucester, and unprecedented collections obtained for charitable objects. His stay was, however, short : he was called up to London to appear before General Oglethorpe, and the trustees of Georgia. Hav- ing been accepted by them, he was presented to the bishop and primate, who both highly approved of his mission. But his departure from England was delayed for some months, owing to the vessel in which he was to sail not being ready at the time expected. He therefore undertook to serve, for a while, the church of one of his friends at Stonehouse. In this retirement his communion with God was, at once, intimate and habitual. Could the trees of the wood speak, he says, they would tell what sweet communion he and his christian brethren had, un- der their shade, enjoj^ed with their God. " Sometimes as I have been walking," he continues, " my soul would make such sallies, that I thought it would go out of the body. At other times I would be so overpowered with a sense of God's infinite majesty, that I would be constrained to throw myself prostrate on the ground, and offer my soul as a blank in his hands, to write on it what he pleased. One night was a time never to be forgotten. It happened to lighten exceedingly. I had been expounding to many people, and some being afraid to go home, I thought it my duty to accompany them, and improve the oc- casion, to stir them up to prepare for the coming of the Son of man. In my return to the parsonage, whilst others were rising from their beds, and frightened almost to death to see the light- ning run upon the ground, I and another, a poor but pious countryman, were in the field, praising, j)raying to, and exidting in our God, and longing for that time when Jesus shall be re- vealed from heaven ' in flaming fire.' Oh that my soul may whitefield's life and times. 43 be in a like frame when he shall actually come to call me !" He refers to this scene in one of his letters. ^* Honest James and I were out in the midst of the lightning, and never were more delighted in our lives. May we be as well pleased, when the Son of God cometh to judgment." He came glowing from this mount of communion to Bristol again, prepared to preach the gospel with new energy ; and the people were prepared to hear it with new interest ; for such was the impatience for his return, that multitudes on foot, and some in coaches, were waiting to meet him, a mile from the city ; and a still greater number welcomed him, as he passed along the streets. And if the city was alarmed during his former visit, it was now electrified : persons of all ranks and denominations crowded to hear him ; and such was the pressure in every church, that he could hardly make his way to the reading desk. " Some hung upon the rails of the organ loft, others climbed upon the leads of the church, and altogether made the church so hot with their breath, that the steam would fall from the pillars like drops of rain." When he preached his farewell sermon, and said to the people that perhaps they might " see his face no more," high and low, young and old, burst into tears. Multi- tudes followed him home with tears, and many with entreaties that he would remain in England ; but he was firm to his pur- pose, and merely consented to spend the next day in speaking with those who had been awakened under his ministry. This he did from seven in the morning until midnight, when he stole away secretly to avoid the parade of a public escort. After some brief intermediate visits, he arrived again in Lon- don. Here invitations to preach and administer the sacrament poured in upon him from so many churches, and were so promptly accepted by him, that his friends were afraid for his health ; the crowds at each church being so overwhelming. But his answer was, " I find by experience that the m^ore I do, the more I may do, for God." This was said when he was in the habit of preaching four times on the sabbath, and had often to walk ten or twelve miles in going from one church to another, and to preach five times in the v/eek besides. Such unprecedented labours might well be, as they were, called "mighty deeds" l)y 44 whitefield's life and times the newspapers ; but^ this kind of notice hurt his feelings. In a letter to a friend he expresses himself on the subject thus : " I suppose you have heard of my miglity deeds, falsely so called by the newspapers ; for I find some hack-friend has published abroad my preaching four times in a day ; but I beseech Mr. Raikes, the printer, never to put me in his news again upon any such account, for it is quite contrary to my inclinations and positive orders." To his friends, however, he was not reserved in communicating either the extent of his labours, or the symp- toms of their success. In another letter to the same person he writes, " Last week, save one, I preached ten times in different churches ; and the last week, seven ; and yesterday four times, and read prayers twice, though I slept not an hour the night before, which was spent in religious conversation, &c. God still works more and more by my unworthy ministry. Many youths here sincerely love our Lord Jesus Christ ; and thou- sands, I hope, are quickened, strengthened, and confirmed by the word preached. Last Sunday (in St. Dunstan's) at six in the morning, when I gave my farewell, the whole church was drowned in tears : they wept and cried aloud, as a mother weep- eth for her first-born. Since that, there is no end of persons coming and weeping, telling me what God has done for their souls : others again beg little books, and desire me to write their names in them. The time would fail me, were I to relate how many have been awakened, and how many pray for me. The great day will discover all ! " This will be more minutely detailed in the next chapter. Having thus traced the amazing effects of Whitefield's Jirst sermons, it will now be interesting to examine their general character, and to ascertain what were the truths which thus arrested and aroused the public mind. Three of these success- ful sermons can, happily, be identified with these " times of re- freshing ;" and they may be depended on, as specimens of both the letter and the spirit of his preaching, because they were printed from his own manuscripts: that " On Early Piety •" that ''On Regeneration;'"' and that ''On Intercession" Whoever will read these appeals, realizing the circumstances under which they were made, will hardly wonder at the effect produced by them ; whitefield's life and times, 45 the topics of the second and third, and the tone of all the three, are so different from the matter and manner of sermonizing, to which the public had been long accustomed. They do not sur- prise us at all ; because, happily, neither the topics nor the tone of them are " strange things to our ears." Both were, however, novelties, even in the metropolis, at that time. When — where had an appeal like the following been made in London ? '^^ I beseech you, in love and compassion, to come to Jesus. Indeed, all I say is in love to your souls. And if I could be but an in- strument of bringing you to Jesus, I should not envy but rejoice in your happiness, however much you were exalted. If I was to make up the last of the train of the companions of the blessed Jesus, it would rejoice me to see you above me in glory. I would willingly go to prison or to death for you, so I could but bring one soul from the devil's strong holds, into the salvation which is by Christ Jesus. Come then to Christ, every one that hears me this night. Come, come, my guilty brethren : I be- seech you for your immortal souls' sake, for Christ's sake, come to Christ ! Methinks I could speak till midnight unto you ; I am full of love towards you. Would you have me go and tell my Master, that you will not come, and that I have spent my strength in vain ? I cannot bear to carry such a message to him ! I would not, indeed I would not, be a swift witness against you at the great day of account : but if you will refuse these gracious invitations, I must do it." In this spirit (not very prevalent even now) Whitefield began his ministry. And there is a fascination as well as fervour in some of his early sermons. How bold and beautiful is the peroration of that on Intercession ! Referring to the holy im- patience of " the souls under the altar," for the coming of the kingdom of God, he exclaims, " And shall not we who are on earth, be often exercised in this divine employ with the glo- rious company of the spirits of just men made perfect ? Since our happiness is so much to consist in the communion of saints, in the church triumphant above, shall we not frequently inter- cede for the church militant below; and earnestly beg, that we may be all one ? To provoke you to this work and labour of love, remember, that it is the never-ceasing employment of 46 ■wiiitefield's life and times. the holy aud highly exalted Jesus himself: so that he who is constantly interceding for others, is doing that on earth, which the eternal Son of God is always doing in heaven. Imagine, therefore^ when you are lifting up holy hands for one another, that you see the heavens opened, and the Son of God in all his glory, as the great High Priest of your salvation, pleading for you the all-sufficient merit of his sacrifice before the tlirone. Join your intercessions with His ! The imagination will strengthen your faith, and excite a holy earnestness in your prayers." CHAPTER II. WHITEFIELD's introduction to LONDON". Whitefield's ministry in London began at the Tower — an un- likely quarter for attraction or effect. The curate of the Tower, who had been his fiiend at college, having occasion to officiate in Hampshire for a season, invited him to supply during his absence. Sir John Philips also sanctioned the re- quest, and joined in it. Little did either of these good men, and still less did Whitefield himself, foresee the remote, or even the immediate, consequences of this invitation. And it is well they did not ! For had they foreseen ^Miitefield's splen- did irregularities in Moorfields and Blackheath, or his spacious tabernacles in London, or even his moderate Calvinism, they would not have countenanced him. He himself, notwithstand- ing all his constitutional bravery and conscientious simplicity, would not have hazarded the experiment, had he suspected the result. How little he did so, will be best told in his own words. " On Wednesday, August 4th, 1737, with fear and trembling I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London ; and the Sunday following, in the afternoon, preached at Bi- shopsgate church. As I went up the pulpit stairs, almost all seemed to sneer at me, on account of my youth. But they soon grew serious in the time of my preaching ; and after I came down, showed me great tokens of respect, blessed me as I passed, and made great inquiry who I was. The question no one could answer ; for I was quite a stranger : and, by passing speedily through the crowd, returned to the Tower without having my name discovered." 48 whitefield's life and times. " Here (at the Tower) I continued for the space of two months, reading prayers twice a week, catechising and preach- ing once, besides visiting the soldiers in the infirmary and bar- racks daily. I also read prayers evei-y evening in Wapping chapel." (It was, no doubt, in going between the Tower and Wapping chapel, that his well known expression, " TVapjmig sinners," was first forced upon him.) " I preached at Ludgate prison every Tuesday." (This also, together with his visits to the castle at Oxford, will account for the frequency of the forms of judicial trial and condemnation, in his sermons to the un- godly.) " God was pleased to give me favour in the eyes of the inhabitants of the Tower. The chapel was crowded on Lord's days. Religious friends from various parts of the town attended the word, and several young men on Lord's-day morn- ing, under serious impressions, came to converse with me on the new birth." So far all is pleasing ; but there was nothing surprising marked Whitefield's first visit to London. That it made no great impression on himself, is evident from the perfect simpli- city with which he records its close : " Having staid in London until Mr. B. came out of the country, I returned to my little charge at Oxford, and waited on my deaconship according to the measure of grace imparted to me." Even when he was invited to " a very profitable curacy " in London, and urged to accept it, he says, " I had no inclination to accept it. At Dummer I soon began to be as much delighted with the artless conversation of the poor illiterate people, as I had been formerly with the company of my Oxford friends ; and frequently learnt as much by an afternoon's visit, as by a week's study." It was therefore for the sake of Georgia, solely, that he came back to London. The metropolis was to Whitefield, then, merely the way to America. Accordingly, he did not seek for engagements, nor volunteer his services, on his arrival from Oxford. Indeed, he does not seem to have contemplated preaching. " I followed my usual practice of reading and praying over the word of God on my knees. Sweet was this retirement to my soul — but it was not of long continuance. In- vitations were given me to preach at several places." Not, whitefield's life and times. 49 however, that he was unwilling to preach. All I want to show is, that he had no designs upon London, and no idea of creating a sensation in it. He could not, however, be hid long. His former visit was not forgotten, and his fame in Bristol had reached the metropolis. " The stewards and members of the religious societies " found him out, and forced him out, on be- half of their charity schools : a work which their successors carry on, with great fidelity and perseverance, to this hour ! I mean no reflection upon stewards. They thus call out minis- ters, who would otherwise shrink from publicity ; and extend over London the influence of talents and piety, which must otherwise have been confined to a corner. It is not their fault, if another Whitefield has not been found out. Had there been another in the empire since, the nets of religious societies would have caught hiin : and, whenever there is another, they are sure to bring him into full notice and employment ! Whitefield says, with great simplicity, " The stewards of religious societies were very fond of hearing me." No wonder : he collected upwards of a thousand pounds for the schools alone ; " in those days," says Dr. Southey, " a prodigious sum; larger collections being made than had ever before been known on like occasions." Whitefield himself has di'awn a distinction between the feel- ings with which he accepted invitations from societies, and the feelings with which he assisted clergymen on the sabbath. " I embraced the invitations to preach and assist in administering the sacrament." " With great reluctance I was prevailed on to preach a charity sermon at Wapping chapel." On both occa- sions he was, however, equally successful. " So many came" to the sacrament at Cripplegate, St. Anne's, and Foster Lane, " that sometimes we were obliged to consecrate fresh elements twice or thrice, and the stewards found it somewhat difficult to carry the offerings to the communion table." Li like manner, " more was collected at Wapping chapel, for the charity, than had been for many years." At St. Swithin's also, instead of ten shillings, as formerly, " eight pounds were collected." This was too great a novelty then to be concealed. " Next morning as I was at breakfast with a friend at the Tower, I read in one of the newspapers, that there was a young gentleman going E 50 whitefield's life and times. volunteer to Georgia, had preached at St, Swithin's, and col- lected eight pounds, instead of ten shillings ; three pounds of which were in halfpence ; and that he would preach next Wed- nesday before the societies, at their general quarterly meeting. This advertisement chagrined me very much. I immediately sent to the printer, desiring he would put me in his paper no more. His answer was, that he was paid for doing it, and would not lose two shillings for any body. By this means peo- ple's curiosity was stirred up more and more. On Wednesday evening Bow church, in Cheapside, was crowded exceedingly. I preached my sermon on Early Piety ; and at the request of the societies printed it. Henceforward, for nearly three months successively, there was no end of people's flocking to hear the word of God. Sometimes constables were obliged to be placed at the doors, without and within. One might, as it were, walk upon the people's heads. Thousands went away from the largest churches for want of room. I now preached generally nine times a-week. The people were all attention, as hearing for eternity ! The early sacraments were exceedingly awful ! Oh how often at Cripplegate, St. Anne's, and Foster-lane, have we seen Jesus Christ crucified and evidently set forth be- fore us ! On Sunday mornings, long before day, you might see streets filled with people going to church, with their lanthorns in their hands ; and hear them conversing about the things of God." By thus specifying the spot where Whitefield preached his first published sermon, Bow church will be reconsecrated, in the estimation of many, and Bow bells sound more sweetly. Such is the force of association. Its laws, like those of nature, can neither be set aside nor weakened. Only hallowed men can make hallowed ground ; and no minister becomes hallowed to posterity, but " he that winneth souls." Accordingly, Bow bells remind us of no one but Whitefield. His one sermon in- vests that church with more sacredness than its consecration, and with more interest than the whole series of its corporation sermons. There is neither venom nor vapouring in this remark. Visitors from the country, and from America, pause even in Cheapside whitefield's life and times. 51 to gaze at the spire under which George Whitefield preached. They remember no one else. Why ? Because no one else has "so preached" there, "that many believed." Thus it is only the salvation of immortal souls that stamps religious immor- tality upon " solemn temples." Accordingly, not all the talent and piety which graced the pulpit at Whitehall during the Pro- tectorate, nor all the rank which has been in it and around it since, can awaken one spiritual emotion or recollection. Even Baxter, Owen, and Howe, can hardly be realized there, as ministers of the glorious gospel. A ham, where either of them had preached Christ to the poor and the perishing, would make our hearts burn within us ; but in the chapel-royal, they are remembered only as great men. Had Simeon of Cambridge, that " Paul the aged," preached there but once, before singing his Ninic dimittis, he would have been more remembered by posterity, than all his late predecessors put together. It is ut- terly in vain to sneer or reason against this law of association. Nothing gains or retains a hallowed hold upon the sympathies of the pious, but usefulness. Mere talent and heartless orthodoxy can no more endear or dignify a church now, than relics from Rome or Jerusalem. But, to return. Whitefield had soon to pay the usual price of popularity. " As my popularity and usefulness increased, opposition increased proportionably. At first, many of the clergy were my hearers and admirers ; but some soon grew angry, and complaints were made that there was no room for the parishioners, and that the pews were spoiled. Some called me a spiritual pickpocket; and others thought I made use of a charm to get the people's money. A report was spread abroad that the bishop of London, upon the complaint of the clergy, intended to silence me. I immediately waited upon his Lord- ship, and inquired whether any complaint of this nature had been lodged against me. He answered. No. I asked his Lord- ship whether any objection could be made against my doc- trine ? He said, ' No : for he knew a clergyman who heard me preach a plain scriptural sermon.' I asked his Lordship whether he would grant me a license ? He said, ' I needed none, as I was going to Georgia.' I replied — ' Then your Lord- E 2 52 whitefield's life and times. ship would not forbid me.' He gave me a satisfactory answer — and I took my leave." Why has Dr. Southey stripped the bishop's courtesy of all its grace ? He says of the bishop, " Evidently he thought this (Georgia) a happy destination for one whose fervent spirit was likely to lead him into extravagances of doctrine as well as of life." This is no compliment to his Lordship's wisdom, what- ever it be to his policy. Even his policy was bad, if this be true ; for what could be worse in principle or policy, than let- ting loose upon an infant colony an extravagant chaplain ? Thus Dr. Southey has imputed to the bishop, unwittingly, a heartless, if not reckless, indifference to the religious interests of Georgia ; for if Whitefield was dangerous even in London, where he could easily be counteracted, if not controlled, how much more dangerous he must have been in a distant colony ! This inference is inevitable, if there was any real danger to be apprehended from Whitefield's doctrine or example. It is easy to say, that " the whole force of his enthusiasm might safely expend itself" in Georgia ; but Dr. Southey should not have said this ; for he had just said before, of the disorders raised in the colony, that Charles Wesley had, " in truth, been the occa- sion of them, by his injudicious zeal." But, enough of this. Southey is no doubt right in saying, that the bishop was glad, and that some of the clergy rejoiced " in Whitefield's de- parture," as a happy riddance. He guessed well, although he reasons ill, in this instance. Accordingly, the bishop's " satis- factory answer" to Whitefield did not prevent some of the liOndon clergy from shutting their pulpits against him. " Soon after this, two clergymen sent for me, and told me they would not let me preach in their pulpits any more, unless I renounced that part of the preface of my sermon on Regeneration, wherein I wished, that my brethren would entertain their audi- tories oftener with discourses on the new birth. This I had not freedom to do — and so they continued my opposers." " What, I believe, irritated some of my enemies the more, was my free conversation with many of the serious dissenters, who invited me to their houses ; and told me repeatedly, ' that if the doctrine of the new birth and justification by faith was whitefield's life and times. 53 preached powerfully in the church, there would he but few dis- senters in England.' Who the dissenters were that said this, cannot now be ascertained : ])ut, certainly, they were not serious dissenters, nor sound reasoners, however serious they may have been as christians ; for wherever these doctrines are powerfully preached in the church, there are many dissenters. The pro- gress of. both dissent and methodism keeps pace with the progress of evangelical sentiment in the church, and ever must do whilst they continue evangelical. Whitefield was, however, simple enough to believe what he wished, and honest enough to act accordingly, in this instance. " My practice in visiting and associating with (these dissenters) I thought was quite agree- able to the word of God. Their conversation was savoury ; and I judged, (' rightly,' says Dr. Southey,) that the best way to bring them over, was not by bigotry and railing, but by mo- deration and love, and undissembled holiness of life." " But these reasons were of no avail. One minister called me a pragmatical rascal, and vehemently inveighed against me and the whole body of dissenters together." Dr. Southey ex- plains the " serious offence " thus taken by the clergy, by say- ing,— " for the evils which puritanism had brought on this kingdom were at that time neither forgotten nor forgiven." No thanks to the Doctor, if ever they should be so ! He has done all he could to perpetuate their memory. It will not, however, live long. The accidental evils of puritanism, like those of the Reformation, will soon be forgiven, and forgotten too, in the enjoyment of the truth and liberty which the puri- tans bought and sealed with their blood. Wycliffe and Baxter, Latimer and Owen, Cranmer and Howe, will be associated and enshrined names in the temple of Christianity, when all who have hindered their identification will be nameless, or named only to be pitied and wondered at for ever. Whitefield found pulpits in London, until he embarked for America. Not many, indeed, seem to have been shut against him. " I have been wearied almost to death," he says, " in preaching." " The nearer the time of my embarkation ap- proached, the more affectionate and eager people grew. All ranks gave vent to their passion. Thousands and thousands of 54 whitefield's life and times. prayers were put up for me. The people would run and stop me in the alleys of the churches, hug me in their arms, and fol- loAV me with wishful looks. Such a sacrament I never saw be- fore, as at St. Dunstan's. The tears of the communicants mingled with the cup : and had not Jesus given us some of his ' new wine,' our parting would have been insupportable, " x\t length having preached in a good part of the London churches, collected about a thousand pounds for the charity schools, and got upwards of three hundred pounds for the poor in Georgia, I left London on Dec. 28th, 1737, in the twenty- third year of my age, and went in the strength of God, as a poor pilgrim, on board the Whitaker." CHAPTER III. WHITEFIELd's first voyage and visit to GEORGIA. The settlement of Georgia was begun in 1733, Ly a number of English people, who were brought over by General Oglethorpe. On the first of February of that year, General Oglethorpe and his colony entered the Savannah river, and the same night the tents were first pitched where the city of Savannah now stands. For several days the people were employed in erecting a fortifi- cation, and in felling the woods, while the general marked out the town. The first house was begun on the ninth ; and the town, after the Indian name of the river which ran by it, was called Savannah. The fort being completed, the guns mounted, and the colony put into a state of safety, the next object of Oglethorpe's attention was, to treat with the Indians for a share of their possessions. In his intercourse with the Indians, he was greatly assisted by an Indian woman, whom he found in Savannah, of the name of Mary Musgrove. She had resided among the English, in another part of the country, and was well acquainted with their language. She was of great use, therefore, to General Oglethorpe, in interpreting what he said to the Indians, and what they said to him. For this service he gave her a hundred pounds a year. " Among those who came over with General Oglethorpe was a man named Thomas Bosomworth, who was the chaplain, or minister, of the colony. Soon after his arrival he married the above-mentioned Indian woman, Mary Musgrove. Unhappily, Bosomworth was, at heart, a bad man, although by profession he was a minister of the gospel. He was distinguished for his 56 whitefield's life and times. pride, and love of riches and influence. At the same time, he was very artful. Yet, on account of his profession, he was, for a time, much respected by the Indians. " At one of the great councils of the Indians, this artful man induced some of the chiefs to crown Malatche, one of the greatest among them, and to declare him prince and emperor of all the Creeks. After this, he made his wife call herself the eldest sister of Malatche ; and she told the Indians that one of her grandfathers had been made king, by the Great Spirit, over all the Creeks. The Indians believed what Mary told them ; for, since General Oglethorpe had been so kind to her, they had become very proud of her. They called a great meeting of the chiefs together, and Mary made them a long talk. She told them that they had been injured by the whites — that they were getting away the lands of the Indians, and would soon drive them from all their possessions. She said, ' We must assert our rights — we must arm ourselves against them — we must drive them from our territories. Let us call forth our warriors — I will head them. Stand by me, and the houses which they have erected shall smoke in ruins.' " The spirit of Queen Mary was contagious. Every chief present declared himself ready to defend her to the last drop of his blood. " After due preparation, the warriors were called forth. They had painted themselves afresh, and sharpened anew their toma- hawks for the battle. The march vras now commenced. Queen Mary, attended by her infamous and wicked husband, the real author of all their discontent, headed the savage throng. " Before they reached Savannah, their approach was an- nounced. The people were justly alarmed — they were few in number, and though they had a fortification and cannon, they had no good reason to hope that they should be able to ward off the deadly blow which was aimed against them, " By this time the savages were in sight of Savannah. At this critical moment an Englishman, by the name of Noble Jones, a bold and daring man, rode forth, with a few spirited men on horseback, to meet them. As he approached them, he exclaimed in a voice like thunder : ' Ground your arms ! whitefield's life and times. 57 ground your arms ! not an armed Indian shall set his foot in this town.' " Awe-struck by his lofty tone, and perceiving him and his companions ready to dash in among them, they paused, and soon after laid down their arms. Bosomworth and his queen were now summoned to march into the city, and it was per- mitted the chiefs and other Indians to follow, but without their arms. " On reaching the parade ground, the thunder of fifteen can- non fired at the same moment, told them what they might expect should they persist in their hostile designs. The Indians were now marched to the house of the president of the council, in Savannah. Bosomworth was required to leave the Indians wliile the president had a friendly talk with them. " In his address to them he assured them of the kindness of the English, and demanded what they meant by coming in this warlike manner. " In reply, they told the president ' that they heard that Mary was to be sent over the great waters, and they had come to learn why they were to lose their queen.' " Finding that the Indians had been deceived, and that Bo- somworth was the author of all the trouble — that he had even intended to get possession of the magazine, and to destroy the whites, the council directed him to be seized, and to be thrown into prison. " This step Mary resented with great spirit. Rushing forth among the Indians, she openly cursed General Oglethorpe, although he had raised her from poverty and distress, and de- clared that the whole world should know that the ground she trod upon was her own. " The warlike spirit of the Indians being thus likely to be re- newed, it was thought advisable to imprison Mary also. This was accordingly carried into effect. At the same time, to ap- pease the Indians, a sumptuous feast was made for the chiefs by the president, who during the better state of feeling, which seemed to prevail, took occasion to explain to them the wicked- ness of Bosomworth, and how by falsehood and cunning he had led them to believe that Mary was really their queen — a de- 58 whitefield's life and times. scendant of one of their great chiefs. ' Brothers/ said he, ' it is no such thing. Queen Mary is no other than Mary Musgrove, whom I found poor, and who has been made the dupe of the artful Bosomworth ; and you, brothers, the dupes of both.' " The aspect of things was now pleasant. The Indians were beginning to be satisfied of the villany of Bosomworth, and of the real character of Mary. But at this moment the door was thrown open, and, to the surprise of all, Mary burst into the room. She had made her escape from prison ; and, learning what was going on, she rushed forward with the fury of a tigress, exclaiming as she entered, ' Seize your arms ! seize your arms ! Remember your promise, and defend your queen.' " The sight of their queen seemed, in a moment, to bring back all the original ardour of the enterprise. In an instant, every chief had seized his tomahawk, and sprung from the ground to rally at the call of their queen. " At this moment Captain Jones, who was present, perceiv- ing the danger of the president, and the other whites, drew his sword and demanded peace. The majesty of his countenance, the fire of his eye, and the glittering of his sword, told Queen Mary what she might expect, should she attempt to raise any higher the feverish spirit of her subjects, " The Indians cast an eye towards Mary, as if to inquire what they should do. Her countenance fell. Perceiving his advan- tage. Captain Jones stepped forward, and in the presence of the Indians, standing round, again conducted Mary back to prison. " A short imprisonment so far humbled both Bosomworth and Mary, that each wrote a letter, in which they confessed the wrong they had done, and promised, if released, that they would conduct themselves with more propriety in fixture. The people kindly forgave both, and they left the city. " But they did not perform their promise. Again Bosomworth tried to make Mary queen, and to get possession of three large islands, called Ossalaw, Sapelo, and St. Catharine's. He pre- tended that they had been given to him by the Indians. Being, however, unable to make himself master of them, he went over whitefield's life and times. 59 to England with Mary, where he instituted a law-suit for theii- recovery. At length, having obtained St. Catharine's island by a judgment of the court, he returned with his wife, and took up his residence upon that island. There Mary died. Some time after, Bosomworth married one of his own servants, who did not survive him. At length, he finished his own inglo- rious life, and was buried between his two wives, upon the island which had given him so much trouble." Such (it is said in America) was the first specimen of a chaplain, which the Indians and colonists at Savannah had be- fore their eyes. No wonder Oglethorpe and the trustees of Georgia turned their eyes upon another kind of men ! The Oxford methodists were, accordingly, fixed upon, " as men who appeared to possess the habits and qualities requisite" for preaching the gospel to settlers and the Indians. Dr. Butler, of Corpus Christi College, sounded the Wesleys on the subject, and introduced them to Oglethorpe. This was going to the opposite extreme. Accordingly, on their arrival in the colony, they soon proved their unfitness for the religious management of an infant settlement. They certainly meant well, and were shamefully treated : but it is equally true, that they were both very imprudent. Dr. Southey, however, implicates Charles Wesley too deeply in the mutinies of the period : for he ought to have known, that Oglethorpe acquitted him of this charge, and offered to build him a house, and to allow him a deputy, if he would return to the colony. This is just as true, and was as easily ascertained, as that Oglethorpe, who had been " brutal enough to give away from under" Charles, the old bedstead on which he lay in a fever, afterwards " embraced and kissed him with cordial affection." The Doctor even says, " that the expla- nation then given so satisfied the general, that his feelings were entirely changed : all his old love and confidence return- ed :" and yet, he says that Charles " had in truth been the oc- casion of the disorders by his injudicious zeal." On the other hand, however, Vfatson has admitted into his answer to Southey, a vindication of Charles Wesley, from the pen of his daughter, somewhat inconsistent with the acknowledgment, that the Wesleys " held the reins of ecclesiastical discipline with a 60 whitefield's life and times, tightness unsuitable to infant colonists especially, and which tended to provoke resistance." But the character of neither brother should be judged of from their career in Georgia. I quite agree with Watson, that " their integrity of heart, and the purity of their intentions, came forth without a stain :" for although I have heard reports, and been told of letters, which implicate John in more than imprudence, I have found no one to authenticate the reports, or to produce the letters. Besides, Whitefield returned from Georgia unchanged in his love or esteem for Wesley : a con- clusive proof that he found nothing to justify the Jcinia claniosa. Nothing in his journals, letters, or diary, indicates a suspicion. (I have learnt, since I wrote this paragraph, that Wesley's pri- vate journals of the Causton affair have been discovered by the Conference ; and that they justify my argument.) It was to this new colony, then in danger from the Spaniards, and irritated by the Wesleys, that Whitefield went forth so cheerfully, although solemnly. He does not, indeed, say that he knew the distracted state of the people : but it is quite evi- dent from the way in which he prepared for his work, and from the spirit in which he began his labours, that Oglethorpe, or some of the trustees, had apprized him of the rocks on which his predecessors had split. Both his hopes and his fears prove that he was not ignorant of what he had to do, nor of what he had to undo. All his conduct, and especially his utter disregard of Wesley's oracular " Lc4 hhn return to London " shows clearly that his heart was set upon healing the breaches in the colony ; that thus the benevolent and pure designs of its founders might be carried into effect. In this spirit, and for this purpose, Whitefield embarked for Georgia, in the latter end of December, 1737. It was, how- ever, the end of January, 1738, before the vessel was fairly on her way ; owing to contrary winds. His reception on board was, as might be expected from a motley group of soldiers and sailors, of a mixed kind. The captains of both, with the sur- geon and cadet, treated him, for a time, as an impostor ; and, to mark their contempt for him, turned the vessel into a gam- bling-house, during the whole first sabbath. The fact is, he whitefield's life and times. 61 had begun, the day before, to road prayers on deck : but he added to this ci short sermon on the text, " I am determined to know nothing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him cruci- fied." This gave oiFence. The officers and sokliers " attended with decency and reverence " to the prayers : but when he tokl them in the sermon what his " future conduct woukl be," they were indignant ,• and, to prove it, began the sabbath with the hautboy, and spent it in card-playing and blasphemy. He seems to have foreseen this burst of opposition; and he wisely escaped from it. " Sunday, Jan. 1. Rose early in the morning, and retired to an adjacent hill with my friends to prayer." That day, however, he also preached three times (once extempore ; for he had only taken two sermons with him) in the church at Gravesend. This was not cowardice. He himself was unwilling to leave his " own flock in the ship," and he did not leave them without reading prayers again on the Saturday evening. He yielded, however, to the urgency of his friends ; and very properly. This does not appear from his journals, because he would not leave a reflection upon a crew which afterwards treated him respectfully : but it appears from his private diary. Dr. Gil- lies says truly, " It is worth while to observe, with what pru- dence he was helped to behave, and how God was pleased to bless his patient and persevering endeavours to do good." This retreat from a premeditated storm, was one of his pru- dent steps. In the same spirit, he began his usual work on board, on Monday, without upbraiding. Wherever there was sickness in the ship, he visited, counselled, and prayed. When he could not assemble the crew to prayers on deck, he read prayers and expounded any where between decks. When the soldiers could not or would not attend, he devoted himself to the religious education of their children. When he could say nothing to the swearing officers, he turned a look upon them which they understood. Thus he was never idle, nor unamiable. Whilst thus employed, a heavy gale sprung up at the Nore, which created some alarm and more sickness. Even the offi- cers felt thankful that the vessel was at the Nore, and not in G2 whitefield's life and times. the Downs, (for she had " dragged her anchor two miles," ) which they had been trying to reach. Accordingly, they re- quested Whitefield to read prayers to them in the grand cabin on Sunday, in addition to the service on deck. What a dif- ferent aspect the ship wore on the preceding sabbath ! But he had endeared himself during the week by courtesy and kind- ness, and had spent the whole morning of this sabbath in going from hammock to hammock amongst the sea-sick, administer- ing sage-tea to them, as well as good advice. He availed himself of this favourable turn of feeling, to ob- tain for himself more accommodation in the ship ; for, hitherto, he had no place of retirement for prayer or study. He seems, however, to have been somewhat afraid of a refusal ; for he offered the captain money for the occasional use of his cabin. This was not in good taste, but the captain overlooked that, and politely granted his request. The military captain also (whom Whitefield dreaded most) sent him an invitation to take coffee in his cabin. He went ; and took the opportunity of saying to him, " that he thought it a little odd to pray and preach to the servants, and not to the master ! " This good-humoured hint he followed up by pro- posing to read " a collect now and then to him and the other gentlemen, in the great cabin." At first the captain shook his head ; but, after a pause, he said, " I think we may, when we have nothing else to do." When the ship reached Margate, another storm arose at midnight, accompanied by vivid lightning, which seemed to set the sea on fire. The long-boat was lost, and many of the sol- diers taken very ill. Whitefield became, literally, the nurse of his "red-coated parishioners," as he called the soldiers. He superintended the making of sage-tea and broth, and distri- buted them amongst the sick with his own hands. Whilst thus employed he gained the esteem of the surgeon ; and so ingratiated himself with the wives of the soldiers, that fifteen of them agreed to meet, to hear him explain the Cate- chism. Even the captains again requested him to read prayers in the state cabin, and expressed "their approbation" of his conduct. whitefield's life and times, 63 Whilst the vessel was lying in the Downs, he ventured one day to remove " The Independent Whig" from the captain's pillow, and replace it with a book called " The Self-Deceiver.''^ Next morning the captain came to him smiling, and asked who had made the exchange ? Whitefield confessed the charge, and begged his acceptance of the book. It produced a visible change. The military captain also, without being again asked, requested that " they might have public service and expounding twice a day in the great cabin." In this manner, with occasional preaching on shore, he spent the month, during which the ship was waiting for a fair wind ; and in that time, not a few of both the soldiers and sailors be- came very serious, and the ship's company at large orderly. At length the wind changed, and sailing orders were given. In the hurry of this movement, Whitefield fell down the stairs of the steerage ; but received " little or no hurt." In a few days after, the vessel had a very narrow escape. " The men upon deck not keeping a good look-out, an East Indiaman ran so very near, that had not Captain Whiting been upon deck, and beseeched them to tack about, the ships must inevitably have split one against another." Altogether it was a perilous voyage to Gibraltar : but al- though the scene was new, and the labour trying, Whitefield's patience never failed. The following sketch is very charac- teristic, " Feb, 14th, May I never forget this day's mercies, since the Lord has dealt so lovingly with me ! About twelve at night a fresh gale arose, which increased so very much by four in the morning, that the waves raged horribly indeed, and broke in like a great river on many of the poor soldiers, who lay near the main hatchway. Friend Habersham and I knew nothing of it ; but perceived ourselves very restless, and could not sleep at all. I arose, and called on God for myself and all that sailed with me, absent friends, and all mankind. After this I went on deck — but surely a more noble and awful sight my eyes never beheld ; for the waves rose more than mountain high, and sometimes came on the quarter-deck. I endeavoured all the while to magnify God for making his 'power to be known ! ' And then, creeping on my knees — for I knew not 64 whitefield's life and times. how else to go — I went between decks, and sung psalms, and comforted the poor wet people. After this I read prayers in the great cabin. Then, I laid myself across a chair reading. But Grod was so good, that though things were tumbling, the ship rocking, persons falling down around me, I was never more cheerful in my life. I also finished a sermon before I went to bed, though in the midst of company." On his arrival at Gibraltar, he was courteously received and hospitably entertained by the governor first, and then by Major Sabine and General Columbine. Gillies reverses the order of this reception. Sabine did not seek out Whitefield, until some days after he had visited the governor. But whilst all these attentions gratified him, he was most interested by a little group of pious soldiers, who, for twelve years, had been the metJwcUsts of Gibraltar. At first, they had assembled secretly in dens and caves of the rock, for prayer and conversation. The character and spirit of the venerable governor, soon led them, however, to apply for permission to build a house of prayer for themselves. But instead of granting this, he gave them the free use of the church ; and there they statedly met for worship three times a day. They seem to have been non- conformists ; and thus were called " new ligJits : " whilst another society of the Scotch church were called "dark laiitliorns." Besides visiting the popish chapel, and preaching frequently in the protestant church, he attended the Jewish synagogue, and was agreeably surprised when one of the rulers showed him into the chief seat. The rabbi had heard him preach the day before against swearing, and now thanked him for his ser- mon. Whitefield remained in the synagogue during the whole service, engaged, he says, " in secret prayer, that the veil might be taken from the heart of the Jews, and they graffed again into their own olive tree." His success at Gibraltar was remarkable. He says quaintly, " Samson's riddle was fulfilled there : out of the strong came forth sweetness. Who more unlikely to be wrought upon than soldiers ! And yet, amongst any set of people I have not been where God has made his power more known. Many that were quite stark blind have received their sight ; many that had whitefield's life and times. 65 fallen back, have repented and turned to the Lord again ; many that were ashamed to own Christ openly, have waxen bold ; and many saints had their hearts filled with joy unspeakable and fiill of glory." When the journal of this revival was first published in Eng- land, it called forth an answer from some T. G. even more foolish than any thing Tristram Land, M. A. had written. Taking the words, " many that were quite stark blind have re- ceived their sight," literally, he says with all gravity, — " This being a thing so seldom heard of, it seems likely to be a.falsiti/; and, that he inserted it here, to have the world think that God worked this miracle on his account !" Straws show how the wind blows ; and, therefore, I will add a few specimens of this first commentary on Whitefield's first journal. Because he had lamented the want of the divine presence, on one occasion ; and had rejoiced on its return ; T. G. says, " What he means will puzzle any one ; for by God's being with him at one time, and not at another, seems to infer as if he denied the omni- presence of the Deity ! " When Whitefield says, that he " was enlarged in intercession," T. G. remarks, " An odd expression this, and inexplicable ; but it frequently occurs ! " Whitefield says of a dying christian, " His soul seems full of God ;" T. G. observes, " An odd expression this, and needs explanation." T. G. concludes by recommending, in the words of Sylvester, " That we should go to our baptism for the date of our rege- neration." What must have been the state of popular senti- ment and feeling, when such nonsense could obtain readers ? And yet, the authorship of this anonymous pamphlet was ascribed to an ex-fellow of a college ; who, although he dis- claimed it, did not object to its principles or spirit. " Land's Letter to the Religious Societies" 1739. Early in March the vessels left Gibraltar, and proceeded on their voyage : and being soon in the trade-winds, they often joined at the hours of public worship. On one occasion, Cap- tain Mackay, after Whitefield had preached against drunken- ness, urged the men to attend to the things that had been spoken ; telling them, that he had been a notorious swearer until he had done so ; and beseeching them, for Christ's sake, F 66 whitefield's like and times. to give up their sins. On another occasion, whilst marrying a couple on deck, Whitefield suddenly shut the prayer book in the midst of the ceremony, because the bridegroom had be- haved with levity : and not until the laughter was turned into weeping, would he proceed. At the close, he gave the bride a Bible. The ships were now almost as orderly as churches, when the weather allowed of worship. The drum summoned them to morning and evening prayers. The captains vied in kindness and attention to the chaplain. Cards and profane books were thrown overboard, in exchange for religious books. The women, in the Whitaker, exclaimed, " What a change in our captain ! " An oath became a strange thing. The soldiers began to learn to read and write, and the children to repeat their prayers re- gularly. This general impression was deepened by the preva- lence of a fever on board ; during which. Captain Whiting accompanied Whitefield in crawling between decks, to admi- nister medicine and cordials to the sailors. One of the sufferers, a negro boy, had never been baptized. Whiting pledged Whitefield to instnict and baptize him, in the event of his recovery. The poor lad, however, died, and was buried without the service being read over him. The chaplain was afraid to venture upon such a canonical irregularity, al- though he was no believer in baptismal regeneration. The drum, however, was beaten on the occasion, and an address given to the whole ship's crew, calling on them to prepare for the time when the sea shall give up its dead. Many little traits of Whitefield's character may be traced in his journals of this voyage. I only mention another ; — ^his tact in turning every incident into a lesson for himself or others. When a shark was caught, with five pilot-fish clinging to its fins, he says, " Go to the pilot-fish, thou that forsakest a friend in adversity ; consider his ways, and be abashed." When a dol- phin was caught, the change of its hues from lovely to livid, re- minds him, that "just so is man ; he flourishes for a little, but when death cometh, how quickly his beauty is gone ! A chris- tian may learn instruction from every thing he meets with." When darkness came on whilst he was preaching, on Good whitefield's life and times. 67 Friday, he says, " It put me in mind of that darkness which overwhelmed the world, when the God of nature suffered." The fever, which only three or four in the ship escaped, at length laid hold upon Whitefield, and confined him to his bed for a week. The attack, though short, must have been severe ; for besides blisters and vomit, he was bled three times. During his illness the captain gave up his own bed to him ; Habersham watched him day and night ; and (which delighted him most) the sick between decks, whom he had perilled his life to con- sole, prayed fervently for him. He soon recovered, and repaid the kindness of all. At length, on May 5th, they came in sight of Savannah river, and sent off for a pilot ; and such was the joy of all when they came to anchor at Tyby island, that he could not help ex- claiming, " How infinitely more joyful will the children of God be, when, having passed through the waves of this troublesome world, they arrive at the haven of everlasting rest I " Though still weak, he preached a farewell sermon to his " red-coated and blue-jacketed parishioners," as he called his military and naval congregation. It was heard with floods of tears. " Upon this voyage," says Gillies, " he made the following reflections many years after." — " Even at this distance of time, the remembrance of the happy hours I enjoyed in religious ex- ercises on deck, is refreshing to my soul ; and although nature sometimes relented at being taken from my friends, and I was little accustomed to the inconvenience of a sea life, yet, a con- sciousness that I had the glory of God and the good of souls in view, afforded me, from time to time, unspeakable satisfaction." Whitefield was cordially welcomed at Savannah by Delamotte and other friends of Wesley. The magistrates also offered to wait upon him, to pay their respects. This he declined, and waited on them ; when they agreed to build him a tabernacle and house at Frederica, and to accept his services at Savannah as long as he pleased. He was soon laid aside again, however, by a return of his fever, which terminated in ague. This attack brought him so low for a few days, and made such an alteration in his person, that he says, " Had my friends seen me at that hour, they might have learnt not to have any man's F 2 68 whitefield's life and times. person in admiration, and not to think more highly of me than they ought to think," The first thing he did after his recovery was to visit Tomo- Chiclii, the Indian king, then on his death-bed. This was the micoe, or king, whom Oglethorpe brought to England in 1734, and introduced to George II. He was accompanied by his wife and son, and seven other Indians of the Creek nation. His eloquent speech to the king and queen is well known; and was so well received at court, that he was loaded with presents, and even sent in one of the royal carriages to Gravesend when he had to embark again. He now lay, says Whitefield, " on a blanket, thin and meagre ; little else but skin and bones. Senanki, his wife, sat by, fanning him with Indian feathers. There was no one could talk English, so I could only shake hands with him and leave him." A few days after Whitefield went again to visit Tomo- Chichi, and found that his nephew, Tooanoowee, could speak English. " I desired him to ask his uncle, whether he thought he should die ; who answered, I cannot tell. I then asked, where he thought he should go after death ? He replied, to heaven. But, alas, how can a drunkard enter there ! I then exhorted Tooanoowee (who is a tall, proper youth) not to get drunk ; telling him, that he understood English, and therefore would be punished the more, if he did not live better. I then asked him, whether he believed a heaven ? He said. Yes. I then asked, whether he believed a hell ? and described it by pointing to the fire. He replied. No. From whence we may easily gather, how natural it is to all mankind to believe there is a place of happiness, because they wish it to be so ; and on the contrary, how averse they are to believe a place of torment, because they wish it may not be so. But God is just and true ; and as surely as the righteous shall go away into everlasting happiness, so the impenitently wicked shall go into everlasting punishment." Dr. Southey has quoted part of this paragraph in a note, and prefaced it thus : " Whitefield was not so likely (as Wesley) to have led these Indians into the right way, if we may judge from his conference with poor Tomo-Chichi, when that chief was at wiiitefield's life and times. 69 the point of death," If the Doctor mean, that Whitefield should have shown a dying drunkard how pardon might be obtained, instead of exclaiming, " Alas, how shall a drunkard enter heaven !" I quite agree with him. He mistakes, however, if he supposes that this exclamation was addressed to the chief. It is Wiiitefield's own private reflection on the case, when he wrote an account of it ; and distinguished, like all his private reflec- tions of a solemn kind, by italics. Besides, it is highly impro- bable that Whitefield, the man who had just been teaching soldiers and sailors the way to heaven, would have thus abrupt- ly shut the door on a dying Indian ! He who warned the young nephew, would not forget to woo the old uncle ; although the result only, and not the process, appears in his journal. When Whitefield was sufficiently recovered to survey the colony, the state of the children affected him deeply. The idea of an orphan-house in Georgia had been suggested to him by Charles Wesley, " before he himself had any thought of going abroad ;" and now that he saw the condition of the colonists, he said, " nothing but an orphan-house can effect " the educa- tion of the children. From this moment he set his heart upon founding one, as soon as he could raise funds. In the mean time, he did what he could : he opened a school for the villages of Highgate and Hampstead ; and one for girls at Savannah. He then visited the Saltzburghers' orphan school at Ebenezer ; and if any thing was wanting to perfect his own design, or to inflame his zeal, he found it there. The Saltzburghers them- selves were exiles for conscience' sake, and eminent for piety and industry. Their ministers, Grenaw and Boltzius, were truly evangelical. Their asylum, which they had been enabled to found by English benevolence, for widows and orphans, was flourishing. Whitefield was so delighted with the order and harmony of Ebenezer, that he gave a share of his own " poor's- store" to Boltzius, for his orphans. Then came the scene — which completed Whitefield's purpose. Boltzius " called all the children before him : catechised and exhorted them to give God thanks for his good providence towards them : then pray- ed with them, and made them pray after him : then sung a psalm. Afterwards, the little lambs came and shook me by the 70 whitefield's life and times. hand one by one ; and so we parted!" From this moment Whitefield made his purpose his fate. After spending a few weeks at Savannah, labouring as hard as his health would permit, he went to Frederica, where he was gladly received ; the people having " had a famine of the word for a long season." They had no sanctuary : and therefore he had to preach under a tree, or in Habersham's house. This visit, although short, endeared him to all the people ; and he had the satisfaction before he left, to see them " sawing timber for a commodious place of worship, until a church could be built." His return to Savannah was hastened by a circumstance which Gillies overlooked. One of his friends (he does not say which) had lost himself in the woods, and was missing from Tuesday to Friday. The great guns had been fired in vain to direct the wanderer. Some of the people had searched day and night for him, without success. This report was sent to Whitefield, and it hurried him away from Frederica. He had the pleasure, however, on his arrival at Savannah, to find his "lost sheep." Here an instance of refusing to read the burial service oc- curred, which is more creditable to him than its omission in the case of the poor negro boy. It will be best told in his own words. " I was obliged to-day to express my resentment against infidelity, by refusing to read the Burial Office over the most professed unbeliever I ever yet met with. God was pleased to visit him with lingering illness ; during which I went to see him frequently. About five weeks ago, I asked him, what religion he was of? He answered, * Religion was of so many sects, he knew not which to choose.' Another time, I offered to pray with him ; but he would not accept it. Upon which I resolved to go to see him no more. But being told, two days before he died, that he had an inclination to see me, I went again, and after a little conversation, put the following questions to him : ' Do you believe Jesus Christ to be God, and the one Mediator between God and man ? ' He said, ' I believe Jesus Christ was a good man.' ' Do you believe the holy Scriptures ? ' 'I believe something of the Old Testa- whitefield's life and times. 71 ment : the New, I do not believe at all.' ' Do you believe, sir, a judgment to come i ' He turned himself about, and re- plied, ' I know not what to say to that.' ' Alas, sir,' said I — ' if all these things should be true, what — ? ' which words, I believe, gave him great concern ; for he seemed after to be very uneasy, grew delirious, and in a day or two departed. Un- happy man — how quickly he was convinced ! The day after his decease he was carried to the ground, and I refused to read the office over him ; — but I went to the grave, and told the people what had passed between him and me : and, warning all against infidelity, I asked them, whether I could safely say, — ' As our hope is, this our brother doth ? ' Upon which, I be- lieve, they were thoroughly satisfied that I had done right." This was equally creditable to the preacher and the people ! A few days after this event, Whitefield preached his farewell sermon at Savannah ; it being necessary for him to return to England. How much he loved and was beloved, although only " as a wayfaring man turning aside to tarry for a night," may be judged from his own account. " I preached my farewell sermon, to the great grief of my dear parishioners, whose hearts were full as well as mine, which we all showed by many tears. But a sensible alteration appeared in their countenances, when I promised them solemnly, before God, to return as soon as possible." Next day he went to Charleston, in South Carolina, to em- bark for England. Gillies says, that Commissary Garden en- treated him to preach in the church. This is true : but Gar- den was the ecclesiastical, not the civil, commissary. I mention this, because his kindness to Whitefield was great at first. It is thus recorded in the revised journals : " The bishop of Lon- don's commissary, the Rev. Mr. G. received me very cour- teously, and offered me a lodging. How does God raise up friends wherever I go ! " Gillies's account will now be better appreciated : " Mr. G. thanked him most cordially, (he had preached twice in the church,) and assured him that he would defend him with his life and property, should the same arbitrary proceedings commence against him, which Mr, Wesley met with in Georgia. He also said something about the colony 72 whitefield's life and times. of Georgia, which much encouraged Whitefield ; as if he thought its flourishing not far off;" and instanced Charleston " as now fifteen times bigger than when he came there." This " life and fortune " friend put on a new face afterwards ! Gillies sums up Whitefield's labours in Georgia thus : " It had been his practice to read prayers and expound (besides visiting the sick) twice a day. On Sunday, he expounded at jire in the morning ; at ten, read prayers and preached ; and at three in the afternoon; and at seven in the evening, he expounded the Church Catechism, How much easier it is for the clergy in England, Scotland, and Ireland, to find fault with such a faithful brother in the ministry, than to follow his example ! " The following note from Whitefield's diary will explain, in some measure, how he bore the hardships of his perilous voyage home. " During my stay (in Georgia) the weather was most intensely hot, burning me almost through my shoes. Seeing others do it, who were as unable, I determined to inure myself to hardships, by lying constantly on the ground ; which, by use, I found to be so far from being a hardship, that afterwards it became so to lie on a iec?." It was well it did : for all the way home, he had no bed, until he reached Ireland. Nor was this his only privation on the voyage. At the outset they were tossed from " bar to bar," for nearly a fortnight, by contrary winds. Their provision began to fail before they had accom- plished a third of the passage : and when they reached Ireland, they were so worn out by famine and fatigue, that Whitefield says, " they were weak and hollow-eyed," even in the great cabin. On landing, however, he soon rallied, and preached with great power at Limerick and Dublin for some days. The account of his reception and success will be found in the chapter, " White- field in Ireland." CHAPTER IV. VVHITEFIELd's first great measures in LONDON, 1739. These had so much influence upon his subsequent character and career, that I shall not interrupt their narrative, by his occa- sional excursions into the country, until his position in the me- tropolis is fully understood. That was, indeed, influenced by his proceedings in Bristol and Wales : but he would have be- come a field preacher, even if he had not begun at Bristol. He arrived in London again at the close of 1738, after a perilous voyage. This sudden return was forced upon him ; not sought by him. " I was really happy in my little foreign cure, and could have cheerfully remained among them, had I not been obliged to return to England, to receive priest's orders, and make a beginning towards laying the foundation of the orphan-house. i\.nd thus — the place where I intended to hide myself in, became, through my being obliged to return for these purposes, a mean of increasing that popularity which was already begun ; — ^but which by me was absolutely unforeseen, and abso- lutely undesigned." His diary at sea, written amidst hurricanes and famine, illus- trates the truth of this explanation. " Had I my own will, I could wish myself a speedy passage, that I might return the sooner to those few sheep I have left in Savannah." It was thus with a single eye and a simple purpose, that Whitefield returned to London. The first thing he did on his arrival, was, to wait on the archbishop of Canterbury, and the bishop of London. Dr. Gil- lies says, " he was coldly received by them :" Whitefield him- self says, " I met with a favourable reception from both ; but 74 whitefield's life and times. was not so civilly treated by some of the clergy ; for five churches have been already (in two days) denied me. However, I had an opportunity of preaching at St. Helen's and at Islington, to large congregations indeed ; and in the evening (of that first sabbath) I went to a society in Fetter Lane, where we had, what might not be improperly called, a love feast ; eating a little bread and water, and spending two hours in singing and prayers." It was now Christmas, and he spent almost every evening in expounding to, and praying with, societies of this kind. On Christmas eve, he continued the exercise until /our in the morn- ing. " At six," he says, with his characteristic simplicity, " I went to another in Crutched Friars, and expounded as well as I could ; — but (no wonder !) perceived myself a little oppressed with drotvshwss." He had been from four till six o'clock that morning in a large meeting in Red Cross Street ; which is me- morable from the fact, that there, for the first time in his life, he ventured to pray extempore, " before many witnesses." He mentions this fact in a note of his diary. " Dec. 25. The first time I ever prayed extempore, before such a number." Extem- pore preaching soon followed this prayer ! On new-year's day he writes thus : " Received the holy sacrament, preached twice, and expounded twice ; and found this the happiest new-year's day that I ever saw. Afterwards spent the whole night in close prayer, psalms, and thanksgivings, with the Fetter Lane society." Well might Dr. Gillies say, of Whitefield and his friends, " religious exercises seemed to be their meat and drink." As might be expected, work of this kind offended many. It was shared, however, for a time, by some of the clergy. " Jan. 5th. Held a conference at Islington, concerning many things of importance, with seven ministers of Jesus Christ, despised me- thodists, whom God in his providence brought together. We continued in fasting and prayer till three o'clock ; and then parted with a full conviction that God was about to do great things amongst us. Oh that we may be in any way instrumental to his glory ! Oh that he would make the vessels pure and holy ; meet for such a dear Master's use '" whitefield's life and times. 75 Such were Whitefield's habits, and such the state of his mind, when he went to Oxford to be ordained a priest. " He was ordained," says GilUes, " by his good friend Bishop Benson." Benson deserved this epithet from Whitefield's biographer. It is well known, however, that he afterwards repented, for a time, of having " ever laid his hands upon George Whitefield :" but he repented of this repentance ; and sent, from his dying bed to Whitefield, a present, with a kind request to be remembered in his prayers. The ordinary explanation of all this seems to be warranted by fact. Benson had been tutor to Lord Huntingdon, and was thus naturally sent for to reason with the countess, when she became a methodist. Her Ladyship, however, reasoned with the bishop ; and so plied him with articles and homilies in favour of her creed, and with the solemn responsibilities of his own office, that she offended him. " He rose up in haste (says my autho- rity) to depart, bitterly lamenting that he had ever laid hands on George Whitefield ; to whom he imputed, though without cause, the change wrought on her Ladyship. She called him back : ' My Lord,' said she, ' mark my words : when you come to your dying bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with complacency.'" As before, Whitefield was deeply affected by his ordination. He went from the altar to the pulpit that very day, " to begin to make proof " of his ministry ; and preached twice in Oxford, and expounded at Carfax in the evening, and attended a prayer- meeting at night. On his return to London, he was alternately in the pulpit, and at these private meetings : and it is difficult to say which of the two spheres of labour had most influence upon his mind and movements at this time. It was certainly the crowding at church, that first suggested to him the idea of preaching in the open air. " When I was informed that nearly a thousand people stood out in the churchyard, and that hundreds returned home, this put me first upon thinking of preaching without-doors. I mentioned it to some friends, who looked upon it as a mad motion. However, we kneeled down and prayed, that nothing might be done rashly. Hear and answer, O Lord, for thy 76 whitefield's life and times. name's sake." It is evident from this prayer, that Whitefield himself did not think his design " a mad motion." But still, al- though a crowded church suggested it, crowded prayer-meetings produced the spirit of the enterprise. It was by expounding and praying extempore, that he discovered his own power over himself and others ; and found out that the divine presence might be calculated upon, whenever the divine glory was con- sulted. These Pentecostal seasons in private made him feel through all his soul, that he ought to do every thing to win souls, and that he could do any thing he might attempt. The influence of these meetings upon Whitefield has never been fully appreciated. They were to him, however, what the wilderness was to John the Baptist ; the school of his spirit There he caught the holy and heroic impulse, which prepared him to challenge the scribes and Pharisees any where, and de- termined him to warn them, in common with publicans and sinners, every where, to " flee from the wrath to come." I might go further, and without extravagance say, that prayer-meetings were to Whitefield what the " third heavens" were to Paul; the fiuishing school of his ministerial education. He was as much indebted to them for his unction and enterprise, as to Pembroke Hall for his learning ; or as to the Oxford methodists for his piety ; or as to Benson for his ordination to the priesthood ; (for what other bishop would have laid his hands on him then ?) W^ESLEY also caught the primitive flame of evangelization, in one of these private societies at Bristol : for until he saw how " the Spirit moved on the face " of these meetings, he was so tena- cious of every thing relating to clerical order and decorum, that he would have counted it " almost a sin to save souls out of a church." Watson, without seeming at all struck by the coinci- dence, says, " Mr. Wesley first expounded to a little society in Nicholas Street, — and next day he overcame- his scruples, and preached abroad, on an eminence near Bristol, to more than two thousand persons ! " In all this, indeed, he was only following the example of Whitefield, who had just preceded him, as well as proved both the safety and the success of the experiment : but still if these things encouraged Wesley, it was the social meeting that convinced and determined him. " I have since," whitefield's life and times. 77 he says, " seen abundant reason to adore the wise providence of God herein, in thus making a way for myriads of people, who never troubled any church, or were likely to do so, to hear that word which they soon found the power of God unto salvation." These facts are as instructive as they are interesting. Private devotional meetings were thus the cradle of field preaching, as surely as field preaching was the morning star of England's second reformation ! How often, in grace as in nature, God hangs the greatest weights on the smallest wires ! I mean, on wires accounted the smallest by the wisdom of this world, and by the folly of the church : for social prayer-meetings are the strongest wires in all the machinery of the moral universe. God hung upon them all the weighty gifts, and all the weightier grace and glory, of Pentecost ! God hung upon them all that is great and good in the American revivals, and all that is amazing in the success of foreign missions. It was when the British churches were as the heart of one man in prayer, that African slavery was abolished throughout the British domi- nions. The spiritual destiny of America now hangs on her prayer-meetings ! It is not a misnomer to call the religious societies, which Whitefield and Wesley found in London and Bristol, prayer- meetings. Whitefield often mentions the prayers he united in before he ventured to pray extempore. Bishop Hopkins and Dr. Horneck were the authors of them. The members met, however, for other purposes. They were bound by their rules to meet weekly, " for good discourse ; for the promotion of schools and catechising ; for the relief of the poor ; and to dis- course only on subjects tending to practical holiness, and to avoid all controversy." These societies originated in 1G67, in consequence of the suc- cess of Dr. Horneck's ministry, and the morning lectures in Cornhill ; which brought many young men to a very affecting sense of their sins, and to a very serious way of treating religion. The meetings were so well conducted, and their influence on public morals so beneficial, that on the accession of William and Mary, they were patronized by the queen and a few of the bishops. They gradually, however, fell into decay. Instead of 78 whitefield's life and times. forty in London, which was their number at the beginning of the eighteenth century, I can only trace about ten in White- field's journals, in vigorous or healthy action. In these, how- ever, there was evidently much vital godliness, when Whitefield began to expound and pray in them. Even his devotional spirit was improved by them, as well as appreciated in them. They not only sympathized in all the fervency of his first love, but also fanned it into the blaze of apostolic zeal. Could there be better proof of their spiritual health or discernment ? How vividly and fondly he remembered the " times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord," vouchsafed in these little sanctuaries, may be judged from the following note in his diary : " Often have we been filled as with new wine. Often have I seen them overwhelmed with the divine presence ; and crying out. Will God indeed dwell with men upon earth ? How dreadful is this place ! This is no other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven." He also published a letter to them. Whilst thus engaged and affected in London, persecution began to assail him. One clergyman attacked him by a scurrilous pamphlet, (of which Whitefield merely says, " Thou shalt answer for me, my Lord and my God,") and others from the pulpit. Gillies says, " Pulpits rung with invectives against him, and the parish priests threatened some of their parishioners with prosecutions, for letting him expound and pray in their houses." Whitefield himself, however, records only one instance of threatened pro- secution, in his corrected journals. " Jan. 30th. Expounded twice on Dowgate Hill, where the people pressed mightily to come in. The minister of the parish threatens the master of the house with a prosecution. But, blessed be God, we breathe in ^free air ! " I quote this memorandum for the sake of the closing excla- mation. He had seen enough of bigotry and intolerance in the course of one month in London, to turn his attention to the shields of liberty. Besides, during that month, Whitefield had visited " some dissenting christian brethren ;" and only a week before writing his thanksgiving for the " free air " of religious liberty, he had enjoyed an interview with Dr. Watts, at Stoke Newington. " Jan. 24. Went to Newington to see Dr. Watts, whitefield's life and times. 79 who received me most cordially." This record does not, indeed, imply that any thing passed between him and the dissenters, on the subject of freedom ; but still the coincidence is remarkable, because none of his former visits with dissenters drew forth any apostrophe to liberty. Then, however, he was only personally assailed ; but now that his converts were threatened with prose- cutions, nothing was more likely to lead his thoughts to the subject, than a visit to Dr. Watts, even if nothing was said on the subject. For Whitefield could not but see that he must soon need for himself and his adherents, the whole panoply of toleration, if he preached in the open air : and that, he had made up his mind to do, two days before he penned his apos- trophe. " Jan. 28th, Sunday, Received the sacrament at Crooked Lane church : afterwards went and preached at Iron- monger's Alms-houses — not doubting, but there would be hun- dreds more than the chapel would hold. I took two written sermons with me — one for within — and the other for ivithout. But to my surprise (he might have said disappointment, for he wished to get out !) found no more than could conveniently hear me from the pulpit." In the course of a few days, he also ex- horted the society at Dowgate Hill, particularly, " not to forsake the assembling of themselves together, notwithstanding the people of the house had been threatened with a prosecution." Thus, wherever Whitefield caught the love of religious liberty, he soon both cherished and spread the sacred flame, when into- lerance menaced his friends. In the space of a fortnight from this time, Whitefield was preaching to the Bristol colliers, on Hannam Mount, at Rose Green ; and on the twenty-seventh of April, he preached in Islington churchyard. The churchwarden of Islington had de- manded him to produce his licence, although he went there by the vicar's appointment, to officiate. " For peace' sake, I de- clined preaching in the church ; and after the communion, preached in the churchyard ; being assured my Master noio called me out here, as well as at Bristol." Next day he writes thus : " Preached again in Islington churchyard, to a congre- gation nearly as large again as yesterday. The second lesson was very applicable ; being Acts xxv. I can say with St. Paul, 80 whitefield's life and times. * Neither against the temple, nor against Caesar, have I done any- thing ;' and yet I am cast out and reviled as an evil-doer : Lut the Scriptures must be fulfilled — ' If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you.' " The people must have been struck by this coincidence : for they had given Whitefield a collection for his orphan-house, amounting to £22, only a few weeks before ; and nothing had happened in the interval to dis- qualify him for the pulpit, but field preaching ; and that had not startled the vicar. The fact is, Stonehouse, the vicar, was friendly to the methodists, and disliked by the heads of the parish. I have seen some of his sermons, the fidelity of which is almost ferocious. At this time, too, all London was ringing with the announce- ment, that Whitefield would preach next day (Sunday) in Moor- fields. " The thing being new and singular," says Gillies, " he found, on coming out of the coach, an incredible number of people assembled. Many had told him that he should never come out of that place alive. He went in, however, between two friends, who by the pressure of the crowd were soon parted from him entirely, and obliged to leave him to the mercy of the rabble. But these, instead of hurting him, formed a lane for him, and carried him along to the middle of the fields, where a table had been placed, (which was broken in pieces by the crowd,) and afterwards back again to the wall that then parted the upper and lower Moorfields ; from which he preached with- out molestation, to an exceeding great multitude, in the lower fields." This is not too oratorically told for the greatness of the occa- sion. That was worthy of a more graphic and glowing pen, than has yet tried to depict the scene. Whitefield himself, how- ever, summed up the whole matter, in his corrected journals, thus : " Sunday, April 29. Begun to be yet more vile this day ; for I preached at Moorfields to an exceeding great multitude : and, at five in the evening, went and preached at Kennington Common, where upwards of twenty thousand people were sup- posed to be present. The wind being for me, it carried my voice to the extremest part of the audience. All stood attentive, and joined in the psalm and the Lord's prayer so regularly, that I whitefield's life and times. 81 scarce ever preached with more quietness in a church. Many were much affected. For this — let men revile my name, I'd shun no cross, I'd fear no shame, All hail, reproach, and welcome, pain ! Only thy terrors. Lord, restrain." Such was his own bulletin of this " great field day/' when he wrote for posterity : — for this is part of his autobiography. When he wrote for his public journals, he merely said, " Preach- ed in the morning at Moorfields to an exceeding great multi- tude." Then, as if he had done no great thing, he adds, " Went to Christ- Church, and heard Dr. Trapp preach most virulently against me and my friends, from these words, *Be not righteous over-much.' God gave me great serenity of mind ; but, alas, the preacher was not so calm as I wished him." It is remarkable that none of his letters, at this time^ refer to the enterprise. Two days before it, he wrote to a friend, " To- day my Master, by his providence and Spirit, compelled me to preach in the churchyard of Islington. To-morrow I am to repeat that mad trick, and on Sunday to go out into Moorfields. I preach until I sweat through and through." Even his diary contains nothing on the subject, but the following simple note : "Words cannot well express the glorious displays of divine grace, which we saw, and heard of, and felt," this day. He had, however, a decided opinion upon both the measure and its success. " All agreed," he says, " that it was never seen on this ways before. I hope a good inroad has been made into the devil's kingdom this day. Lord, not unto me, but unto thy name be all the glory." Journals. Even all this, with all the prospects which it must have opened of London as a sphere for vast usefulness, did not divert nor divide Whitefield's heart fi'om his " poor orphans or his little flock " in the colony ; for on the very day after, he refused to preach at all, that he might devote himself to their interests. " April 30. Received letters from Georgia this evening, telling me of the affairs of the colony. They have a melancholy aspect 82 whitefield's life and times. at present ; but our extremity is God's opportunity. Lord, thou callest me : lo, I come I " " For several months after this/' says Gillies, " Moorfields, Kennington Common, and Blackheath, were the chief scenes of action. At a moderate computation, the auditories often con- sisted of above twenty thousand. It is said their singing could be heard two miles off, and his voice nearly a mile. Sometimes there were upwards of a hundred coaches, besides waggons, scaffolds, and other contrivances, which persons let out for the convenience of the audience." The rising ground on Black- heath, from which Whitefield preached, is still known as " Whitefield's Mount." After his death, one of his noble friends (I believe) planted it with fir-trees. Many spots in the coun- try, also, are thus hallowed by his name ; and of these, none is more hallowed than a field at Gornal in Stafibrdshire. When I visited that " hill of Zion," Whitefield's park was the first object pointed out to me, although the hill of Gornal is crown- ed with the most complete establishment for religious instruc- tion I have ever seen in a rural district. The reason was ob- vious : Whitefield had laid the foundation of that establishment. x\nd Gornal is just the spot that was sure to arrest him ! He could not have looked down from that mount, into the vast ctip of the surrounding valley, without weeping over the population. He must have wished his mighty voice mightier, that he might cry down to them all ! He did what he could ; — set a lamp upon the hill. But to return to the metropolis. He was much disappointed and grieved to find that, notwithstanding all the money he had formerly obtained for the London charities, he was not allowed to collect for Georgia, except in a few churches. He had, therefore, to carry his " begging case " into the fields with him. Gillies says, " Having no other method to take, he was obliged to collect for the orphan-house in the fields, or not at all, which was humbling to himself, and to the friends who assisted him in that work ; but the readiness with which the people gave, and the prayers they put up while throwing in their mites, were very encouraging." They were so : for he thus obtained up- wards of a thousand pounds for his orphan-house. He himself whitefield's life and times. 83 says, " The readiness with which the people gave is inexpressi- ble : for I think they could not have expressed more earnest- ness, or taken more pains, had they all been to have received an alms. One sign this, I hope, that the word of God has taken hold of their hearts." On one occasion he collected in Moorfields, £52 19s. 6d., "■ of which, above twenty pounds was in halfpence." On an- other, at Kennington, sixteen, of £47, was in copper. He says, *' I was one of the collectors ; and methinks it would have delighted almost any one to have seen with what eager- ness the people came up both sides of the eminence on which I stood, and afterwards to the coach doors, to throw in their mites ! " He saw, however, how all this would seem to the Pharisees, and anticipated them thus, in his public journal : *' Preached to nearly sixty thousand people in Moorfields, and collected £29 \1 s. 8d. and came home deeply humbled with a sense of what God had done for my soul. I doubt not but many self-righteous bigots, when they see me spreading out my hands to offer Jesus Christ freely to all, are ready to cry out, — ' How glorious did the Reverend Mr. Whitefield look to-day, when, neglecting the dignity of a clergyman, he stood venting his enthusiastic ravings in a gown and cassock, and collecting mites from the poor people ! ' But if this be vile. Lord, grant that I may be more vile ! Ye scoffers, mock on : I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." (He calls them " Pharisees," in his public journal ; but in his Life, he calls them bigots and scoffers.) On this memorable day, he received the first letter from Ralph Erskine, " a field preacher of the Scots church, and a noble soldier of the Lord Jesus Christ," as he calls him then. He had added to this record, in his public journal, " Oh that all that are truly zealous knew one another ! It must greatly strengthen each other's hands." Whitefield, however, did not find all he expected from this mutual knowledge ; and therefore excluded the whole record from his revised journals, in 1756. By that time, he knew more about the Erskines ; and though he still venerated their christian character highly, he was too honest to compliment their spirit. Amongst other coincidences in this memorable week, none G 2 84 whitefield's life and times. gratified him more than the grant of five hundred acres of land to himself and his successors for ever, for the use of the orphan- house, by the honourable trustees for Georgia. " They re- ceived me with the utmost civility, and agreed to every thing I asked." This, be it remembered, was done at the very time when all the city was moved by his " mad trick " in the fields ; and he returned the compliment to the Honourable Board, by leaving them, to preach that evening to twenty thousand people at Kennington, where (judging from the collection after the sermon) he seems to have mentioned the grant made to him in the morning. " At night," he says, '' my heart was so full, that I could not well speak. I could only pour it out in cnrful silence. Oh the happiness of communion with God ! " It was also at the height and heat of this crisis, that he en- gaged a passage for himself and eleven others, on board the Elizabeth, to Pennsylvania ; that he might preach the gospel and provide for the orphan-house, on his way to Georgia : — so little was Whitefield's original purpose affected by his popu- larity. In fact, he never lost sight of it for a moment ; for the delay in sailing arose from an embargo. A singular incident occurred at this time, which Whitefield has recorded at considerable length in his journals. A young man, Joseph Periam, who had read his sermon on Regenera- tion, and been impressed by it, prayed so loud, and fasted so long, and sold "all he had" so literally, that his family sent him to Bethlehem mad-house. There he was treated as metho- distically mad, and as " one of Whitefield's gang." The keepers threw him down, and thrust a key into his mouth, that they might drench him with medicine. He was then placed in a cold room, without windows, and with a damp cellar under it. Periam, however, found some way of conveying a letter to Whitefield, requesting both advice and a visit. Both were promptly given. Whitefield soon discovered that Periam was not mad ; and, taking Mr. Seward and some other friends with him, he went before the committee of the hospital to explain the case. Seward seems to have been the chief speaker ; and he so astounded the committee by quoting Scripture, that they pronounced him as mad as the young man ! It must have been whitefield's life and times. 85 a ludicrous scene. The doctors told the whole deputation frankly, that, in their opinion, Whitefield and his followers were " really beside themselves." It was, however, agreed that if Whitefield would take Periam out to Georgia, a release would be granted. Thus the conference ended ; and the young man went out as a schoolmaster at the orphan-house. There he was useful and exemplary to the last ; and when he died, two of his sons were received into the school. Whilst the embargo continued, Whitefield made some run- ning excursions into the country, with great success. Before leaving London, however, he went to St. Paul's, with the Fet- ter Lane society, and received the sacrament as " a testimony," he says, " that we adhered to the church of England." He was perfectly sincere in this ; but many churchmen thought it a strange adherence, when he went from St. Paul's to Moorfields and Kennington Common, and preached to 30,000 people ! This was adherence to Christ and Paul only. After spending a week about Northamptonshire, where Dod- dridge received him " most courteously," he returned to London, and added Hackney Fields to the list of his preaching stations. There he made that tremendous attack upon " the impiety of the letter-learned teachers, who count the doctrine of the new birth enthusiasm," which drew upon him the wrath of the clergy. " I could not help," he says, " exposing the impiety of these vile teachers, who say we are not now to receive the Holy Ghost. Out of your own mouths I will condemn you, ye blind guides ! Did you not, at the time of ordination, tell the bishop that you — were inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon you the administration of the church ? Surely at that time you acted the part of Ananias and Sapphira over again. Surely, says Bishop Burnet, you lied not only unto man but unto God." This is the revised form of the charge. As he first published it, he did not quote Burnet, nor use the word "vile." That word he substituted for the epithet " letter-learned," because Warburton and others represented him as a despiser of learning. l^hejirst answer given to his sermon on Regeneration, was by Tristram Land, A. M. curate of St. James's, GarUckhithe^ S6 vvhitefield's life and times. Whitefield deemed it unworthy of notice, I do not. It is a fair specimen of the general tone of sentiment and feeling at the time. It was written in 1737, although not published (" for private reasons") until 1739; by which time, Whitefield and Wesley had compelled theologians, at least, to mask their bat- tery somewhat, in assailing the doctrine of the new birth. Tristram, however, has nothing to conceal. With inimitable inanity and frankness, he says to Whitefield, " I hope you'll please to alter your practice, and no longer preach up the ne- cessity of the new birth, until you better understand the nature and commencement of it : for to tell christians they must be born again, who in the soundest sense were bcrn again in their infancy, is, at least, a great impropriety. And besides, your time would be much better spent, after having given so much just occasion of offence to your brethren, if, instead of rege- neration, you insist more upon repentance and amendment." " You tell your readers, ' It is plain beyond all contradiction, that comparatively but few of those that are born of water are born of the Spirit likewise ; or, to use another Scriptural way of speaking, many of those that are baptized with water, are not effectually, at least, baptized with the Holy Ghost.' But prithee, Sir, attend now to these few following places which I set before you, to confront your ill-grounded assertion." Tris- tram then quotes the Office of Baptism, and the Rubrick at the end of it, and adds triumphantly, " All this. Sir, I take to be direct evidence against you, not to be evaded by the word '^effec- tually,' with which you thought proper to guard your assertion. All the members of our chm'ch were baptized in infancy. She declares them regenerate ; and gives hearty thanks to God, that it has pleased him to regenerate such infants with his Holy Spirit. The church supposes they have already been born again, and so does not command them to be baptized or born again a second time : for to be born more than once in a spiritual sense, is just as impossible as to be born twice in a natural. " Perhaps, Sir, at another opportunity, I may make it my business to point out some more mistakes in your writings and conduct; but if I should not, I dare say you'll excuse your humble servant, Tristram Land." whitefield's life and times. 87 When Whitefield read this letter, he wrote in his diary, " Thou shalt answer for me, O Lord." He saw that it was unanswerable, if the Office of Baptism, and the Catechism, be true ; and he was not prepared then to impeach them by name. The clergy seem to have been ashamed of the bald defence published by this honest — " Fellow of Clare Hall, Cambridge :" for Whitefield's next opponent, on this subject, was no less a person than Dr. Stebbing, his Majesty's chaplain in ordinary, and preacher to the honourable society of Gray's Inn. (At both Gray's and Lincoln's Inn, sermons against Whitefield and Wesley seem to have been popular amongst the lawyers, and means of obtaining preferment at court. See Warburton's.) Dr. Stebbing's sermon, entitled " A Caution against Religious Delusion," went through two or three editions in 1739. It is the production of a scholar and a gentleman ; and so far of a divine too, that it is silent on the subject of baptismal regener- ation. Indeed, it is a dexterous attempt to prove, that the new birth is only another expression for " the new man," which is, the Doctor says, the figurative name of " practical right- eousness." This sermon the bishop of Gloucester sent to Whitefield, with a kind letter of caution and advice. The let- ter itself he answered with equal firmness and courtesy ; but the Doctor, without ceremony. " Dr. Stebbing's sermon (for which I thank your Lordship) confirms me more and more in my opinion, that I ought to be instant in season and out of sea- son. For to me, he seems to know no more of the true nature of regeneration, than Nicodemus did, when he came to Jesus by night. Your Lordship may observe, that he does not speak a word of original sin, or the dreadful consequences of our fall in Adam, upon which the doctrine of the new birth is entirely founded. No ; like other polite preachers, he seems to think that St. Paul's description of the wickedness of the heathen, is only to be referred to past ages : whereas, I affirm, we are all included under the guilt and consequences of sin, as much as they were ; — and if any man preach any other doctrine, he shall bear his punishment, whosoever he be. " Again, my Lord, the Doctor entirely mistakes us, when we talk of the sensible manifestations of the Holy Ghost. In- 88 whitefield's life and times. deed, I know not that we use the word sensible : hut, if we do, we do not mean that God's Spirit does manifest itself to our senses, but that it may be perceived by the soul, as really as any sensible impression made upon the body. But to disprove this, the Doctor brings our Lord's allusion to the wind ; which is one of the best texts to prove it ; for if the analogy of our Lord's discourse be carried on, it amounts to this much, — that although the operations of the Spirit can no more be accounted for, than how the wind cometh, and whither it goeth, yet may they as easily be felt by the soul, as the wind by the body. But he understands us as the carnal Jews understood Christ, when He talked of giving them that bread which came down from heaven. But the Doctor, and the rest of my reverend brethren, are welcome to judge of me as they please. Yet a little while, and we shall all appear before the great Shepherd of our souls ! " We can scarcely appreciate now the value of this solemn and decided stand for the truth as it is in Jesus. Had Whitefield conceded an iota to Stebbing, he would have stultified his grand object. Regeneration by the Holy Spirit had to be maintained by its champion then, as Luther fought for justifi- cation by faith ; — giving no quarter to the vulgar or the refined opponents of it. Stebbing's sermon could do no injury now. It is even calculated to do real good, wherever more stress is laid upon strong emotions, than upon personal holiness ; but then, it was as much a moral " go-by " to the question, as bap- tism was a ceremonial one. Whitefield had, therefore, no alter- native but to abandon the necessity of spiritual conversion, or to refute Stebbing. His next opponent, at this time, was the bishop of London, who made him, he says, "the chief subject matter" of a pastoral letter. That letter charges him with " professing to plant and propagate a new gospel, unknown to the generality of ministers and people, in a christian country." Whitefield, very properly, admits the charge. " Mine is a new gospel — and will be always unknown to the generality, if your Lordship's clergy follow your Lordship's directions. Your Lordship exhorts your clergy to preach justification by faith alone — and quotes the 11th Ar- whitefield's life and times. 89 tide of our church, which tells us, we are justified by faith only, and not for our works or deservings :' at the same time, — your Lordship bids them ' explain it in such a manner, as to leave no doubt upon their minds, whether good works are a necessary condition of their being justified in the sight of God.' Your Lordship, in my opinion, could not well be guilty of a greater inconsistency. This, my Lord, is truly a new gospel ! It is as contrary to the doctrine of the church of England, as light is contrary to darkness." This reply, happily, committed Whitefield as fully upon the question of justification, as his letter to the bishop of Glouces- ter had upon the question of regeneration : for, until Gibson's Letter appeared, Whitefield himself had but confused notions of the subject. But the bishop's errors made him aware of his own mistakes. In his early sermons, he had used such expres- sions as, " washing away the guilt of sin, by the tears of a sin- cere repentance, joined with faith in the blood of Christ ;" " depending on the righteousness of Christ imputed to and inherent in" us; " things necessary to qualify us for being savingly in Christ." The fact is, he had not " read a single book on the doctrine of free justification," when he began to preach. " No wonder, then," he says, " that I was not so clear in some points, at my first setting out. I think it no dishonour to retract some expressions that dropped from my pen, before God gave me a more clear knowledge of the doctrines of grace. St. Austin, I think, did so before me." A Letter to some Church Members of the Preshyterian Persuasion. New York, 1740. Both American and Scotch presbyterians helped to teach him " the way of God more perfectly," at this time. Dr. Watts also had some influence upon him, about this time ; although less than he wished. The Doctor did not, indeed, take any public part in the controversy; but he privately sustained Bishop Gibson, and thus placed himself in a false position, which for ever after pre- vented him from being more than the private friend of White- field. The bishop had sent him a copy of his Pastoral liCtter against Whitefield : and, in answer to it, he says, " Your Lord- ship's distinction of the ordinary and extraordinary influences of the Holy Spirit is so very necessary, that I think the New 90 whitefield's life and times. Testament cannot be understood without it : and I wish Mr. Whitefield would not have risen above any pretence to the ordi- nary influence, unless he could have given better evidences of it. Ke has acknowledged to me in conversation, that it is such an impression upon his own mind, that he knows to be divine, though he cannot give me any convincing proof of it. " I said many things to warn him of the danger of delusion, and to guard him against the irregularities and imprudences which youth and zeal might lead him into ; and told him plainly, that though I believed him very sincere, and desiring to do good to souls, yet I- was not convinced of any extraordinary call he had to some parts of his conduct : — and he seemed to take this free discourse in a very candid manner." Milner^s Life of Watts, p. 638. In an evil hour this was written ; for however true, it was ill timed. No matter that the letter contains some faith- ful remonstrances to the bishop, about his clergy : it contains none against Gibson's " new gospel," as Whitefield well calls it ; and it abets him (unintentionally, indeed) in confounding regeneration with the extraordinary influences of the Spirit. For that was the real point at issue between Gibson and White- field. Accordingly, Gibson took the letter in good part. He wrote thus : " Good Sir, it had been well for Mr. Whitefield, if he had taken the wise advice and cautions you gave him : but from the time that men imagine themselves singled out by God for extraordinary purposes, and in consequence of that, to be guided by extraordinary impulses and operations, all human advice is lost upon them. — I am, with great affection and esteem, your very faithful servant, Edm. Lond." Watts did not see the bearing of all this ; but it so committed him upon the bishop's side of the question, that he could not espouse Whitefield's side of it publicly, even when that was no longer encumbered with crude notions of impulses and im- pressions. This incident deserves far more consideration than it has ever received. It is often asked, with wonder, why the orthodox dissenters of that time did not rally around Whitefield, and open their pulpits to him, when he was excluded from the churches ? The author of the " Life and Times of Watts " says. whitefield's life and times. 91 " The co-operation of such men as Watts and Doddridge was forfeited by the want of a conciliating spirit, and the good will they tendered was lost by causeless and imprudent reflections " (on the part of the methodists). " When their churches were denounced as companies of banded formalists, — when their min- isters were proclaimed as feeding the flock with husks, instead of salutary food, — it is not surprising if the majority stood aloof, or retired disgusted by the exhibition of such censoriousness." But what has all this tirade against the methodists to do with Whitefield ? He never spoke in this manner or spirit against Watts or Doddridge. He revered and loved both from the first. Milner surely does not mean, when he says that " Whitefield in middle age saw his error," that this was the " youthful intem- perance he acknowledged." He did acknowledge, with great candour and self-condemnation, that he had spoken both hastily and harshly of many ministers. For this he publicly asked pardon of God and man. But it was never of such men as Watts and Doddridge, and especially not of these men, he had ever been an accuser. Indeed, both of them had said of him what was not exactly kind or wise, however well meant. Doddridge called him " a very weak man," though " very honest ;" and, " a little intoxicated with popularity." He might also have found " a more excellent way " of appeasing the brethren who were " angry " with him for the respect he showed to Whitefield, than by saying to Coward's trustees, " I am not so zealously attached to him, as to be disposed to celebrate him as one of the greatest men of the age, or to think that he is the pillar that bears up the whole interest of religion among us." Letters to Dr. Wood ami Nath. Neal, Esq. vol. iv. This was playing too far into the hands of Whitefield's dissenting opponents, just as Watts conceded too much to Gibson."^ Watts went so far in his -^ courtesy to the bishop, as to tell him, not only how to " make all the Whitejields less regarded, and less dangerous to the church," but also how " to lessen separation" from the church: ' " Induce the ministers under your care, to preach and converse ^^ among their people with that evangelical spirit, that zeal for the 9 honour of God and the success of the gospel, and with that com-' ^ passion for the souls of men, that your Lordship so much 92 whitefield's life and times. approves and advises in your j)ious and excellent charge." Milner, p. 639. All this may surprise some : but the fact is, that the dissenters of these times were, in their own way, almost as great sticklers for " order " as the bishops. Field preaching was as alarming to the hoard as to the bench. The primate would have as soon quitted his throne, as a leading nonconformist his desk, to preach from a horse-block or a table, in the open air. Indeed, aggression was no part of the character of dissent, in these clays. No wonder ! Dissenters had been so long persecuted even in their secluded and obscure chapels, that they were glad to sit still under their vine and their fig-tree ; thankful for their own safety, and neither daring nor dreaming to go into the high- ways or hedges. It was methodism made dissent aggressive upon the strong holds of Satan. Indeed, until the chief of them were carried by storm, by Whitefield and Wesley, dissenters must have dreaded all co-operation with methodism, as perilous to their own peace and safety. They did. Accordingly, all the remonstrances addressed to Doddridge, by Coward's trustees and the London ministers, harp chiefly upon the string, that the church will not think so Vvcll of the dissenting interest, if she see it countenancing Whitefield. Doddridge nobly despised this fear ; but still, it was long and deeply felt by many of the non- conformists. This was not, however, their only reason. They did fear for their own standing with the church ; but they feared more for the ark of God ; which, they thought, was in danger of being " swallowed up in a sea of deism," if the enthusiasm of methodism obtained countenance " from prudent christians." See Neafs Letters to Doddridge, vol. iv. Do I then regret that Whitefield was not adopted by the dissenters, when the church cast him out ? No, in nowise ! They would have spoiled him by their orderliness ; and he might have confused them by his splendid irregularities. Ralph Erskine well said to Whitefield, " I see a beauty in the providence of your being in communion with the English church : otherwise, such great confluences from among them had not attended your ministry ; nor, consequently, reaped the advantage which so many have done." Fraser's Life of R. Erskine. whitefield's life and times. 93 The Scotch dissenters, the Seceders/ would, indeed, have gladly adopted Whitefield, if they could have had a monopoly of his labour : but they, too, were better without him. His re- action upon the secession in Scotland, as upon the dissenters of England, multiplied and strengthened both eventually, far more than his exclusive services could have done. This digression, though long, and somewhat out of place, will be found useful in its bearings upon his future positions. At this time, however, whilst doctors differed, he carried the great questions at issue into the midst of " multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision ! " He also preached frequently in the church at Bexley, and administered the sacrament. The vicar of Bexley, Mr. Peers, was much attached to him ; but was com- pelled at last, by the diocesan, to deny him the use of the pulpit. But the good man went no further than the letter of the injunc- tion : he employed Whitefield in the desk, and at the altar, when he could no longer admit him into the pulpit. " Read prayers and assisted in administering the sacrament at Bexley church. Many came from far, and expected to hear me." The pulpit being denied, " I preached in the afternoon, in Justice D.'s yard, to about three hundred people ; and in the evening, at Black- heath, to upwards of twenty thousand, on these words, ' And they cast him out J' I recommended to the people the example of the blind beggar, and reminded them to prepare for a gather- ing storm ! " A few days before this expulsion from the pulpit at Bexley, he had introduced Mr. Wesley to Blackheath. This afforded him great pleasure. He regarded it " as another fresh inroad made into Satan's kingdom," that his " honoured and reverend friend, Mr. John Wesley," was " following him in field preaching in London, as well as in Bristol." " The Lord give him ten thousand times more success than he has given me." Next week, when he himself went to preach at Blackheath in the evening, instead of twenty or thirty thousand people as usual, there were not one thousand. This arose from a report that Whitefield was dead. He does not explain the report in any of his journals ; but merely says of it, " Wherever I came, I found people much surprised and rejoiced to see me alive." 94 whitefield's life and times. Next night, however, the heath was again swarming with thousands. On the following day he went on a tour into Gloucestershire, for nearly a month. During his absence, the work was carried on by his " honoured friend and fellow-labourer, Charles Wes- ley." On his return, he says, " The poor souls were ready to leap for joy," at Kennington Common. At Moorfields, " A greater power than ever was amongst us. I collected £24 17*. for the school-house at Kingswood." Whitefield little knew, whilst thus occupied, how narrowly his life had escaped at Basingstoke, two days before. He had, indeed, been told by one, as he went out to preach in a field, that he " should not go alive out of Basingstoke ;" but he heeded not the threat, as he had claimed protection from the mayor. He would not, perhaps, have thought of it again, had not a quaker, at whose house he slept, sent the following letter : " I am truly glad that thou wert preserved out of the hands of cruel and unreasonable men. Thou heardst of the threatenings of many ; but the malice and blind zeal of some went further. For hadst thou went to my friend H to bed, or elsewhere towards that part of the town, (which I believe was expected,) there were ten or twelve men lying in wait to do thee a private mischief : which I know by the testimony of one of those very men ; who boasted to me — ' We uould have given him a secret blow, and prevented him making disturhancesJ' This confession came out to me in the warmth of his zeal ; as thinking, perhaps, that I could hate, at least, if not destroy, (like him,) all that were not of my own party." Revised Journals. Gillies has not mentioned this escape. He merely refers to the " groundless fictions," then afloat, about Whitefield's mur- der or wounds ; for report killed or wounded him, whenever he left London for a few days. Gillies has, however, marked a coincidence which, although I durst not have noticed in the way he has done, I dare not altogether suppress. He says, " The bishop of London laid hold of this occasion for publishing a charge to his clergy, to avoid the extremes of enthusiasm and lukewarmness." And that the charge was ill-timed, and cal- culated to endanger Whitefield, cannot be doubted ; for he was whitefield's life and times, 95 made, as he himself says, " the chief subject matter " of it, and thus held up to public odium ; but it certainly was not intended to injure him, except in his reputation and influence. Bishops, however, should take care how they bark, when curs are inclined to bite. Well might Whitefield say at this crisis, " People wonder at me, that I should talk of persecution, now the world is become christian : but, alas, were Jesus Christ to come down from heaven at this time, he would be treated as formerly. And whoever goes forth to preach the gospel in his Spirit, must expect the same treatment as his first apostles met with. Lord, prepare us for all events." But if he saw danger, he did not shrink from it. In one instance, at this time, he almost courted insult, as well as ex- posed himself to it. Having heard that there was to be a horse-race at Hackney Marsh, he says, " I appointed, pur- posely, to preach there, because the race was to be in the same field." He did preach to ten thousand people ; and " very few left the sermon :" some who did, " returned back quickly," and them he addressed personally. This was certainly im- prudent. The whole affair, however, passed off quietly. Marybone Fields and Stoke Newington Common then be- came the chief scene of his labours, until his embarkation : and they were scenes of triumph. Many scoffers were arrested and overpowered by the gospel, and more formalists roused to flee from the wrath to come. He himself has not hazarded any computation of the precise number of avowed converts, won by field preaching, in and around London ; but, judging from the time he spent in speaking with the awakened, during the intervals of preaching, and from the letters and notes he ac- knowledges, the numbers must have been great. He says in his revised journal, at the close of this grand campaign to win souls, " Great things God has already done : for it is miknown how many have come to me under strong convictions of their fallen state ; desiring to be (more) awakened to a sense of sin, and giving thanks for the benefits God has imparted to them by the ministry of his word." His last sermon, before leaving London to embark, brought so many of these amongst the crowd at Keimington Common, and they were so " exceedingly 96 whitefield's life and times. aiFected," that he was " almost prevented from making any ap- plication " of the subject. But whatever was the number of his converts then, Toplady, who was not inclined to give an ex- aggerated answer to the question, " Are there many that be saved ? " gave Whitefield credit for having been, in the course of his entire ministry, useful to " lens of thousands besides " himself. CHAPTER V. whitefield's first visits to the country. Whatever disadvantages may attend the mode in which I trace the first labours and influence of Whitefield, the divisions I have adopted will enable the reader to follow him without effort or confusion, and to judge faiidy of each of his successive spheres ; many of which were very dissimilar, however much alike were the effects of his preaching in them. Besides, it is much easier to realize the changes which passed upon his spirit as he moved from country to country, and from spot to spot, in the glory or gloom of circumstances, than to realize places, however vividly characterized; for they seldom gave a cha- racter to his preaching. I mean, that he did not exactly adapt himself to localities ; but came into a new field in the spirit he had left the old one. He preached "the common salvation" every where, although with varied power. According to " the brook in the way," he "lifted up the head." He came to London under the Bristol impulse ; and he embarked for America under the London impulse. This is evident from his journals. He had no plans, but for winning souls ; and these, although they could never be set aside by circumstances, could be inflamed by them. Accordingly, whilst the vessel was de- tained in the river or on the coast, he was never idle. Wherever he could land, he preached ; and when on board, he read prayers and expounded daily ; just as might be expected from a man fresh from the impulses of London. His work in England, as distinguished fi'om London and its immediate vicinity, began on his return from Georgia; and then, he was full of his orphan school : an institution which, if H yo WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. it did little for the colony, led him to do much for the mother country ! Humanly speaking, but for that school, and the col- lege he intended to graft upon it, Whitefield would never have traversed England as he did, nor visited Scotland so often. It compelled him to travel, and inspired him to preach. It was his hohhy, certainly ; but by riding it well, he made it like " the white horse " of the Apocalypse, the means of going " forth conquering and to conquer." Having been ordained a priest at Oxford, and received a " liberal benefaction " from the bishop of Gloucester for Georgia, his first visit was to Windsor. There he could find only a school-room to expound in ; but such was the impression made by his address, that he exclaimed on leaving, " Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me ; but unto thy name be all the glory." Next morning he went to Basingstoke, and expounded to about a hundred very attentive hearers, in the dining-room of the inn ; but on the evening of the next day, the crowd outside was noisy, and threw stones at the windows. This roused Whitefield's zeal and the curiosity of the town. On the fol- lowing day, he had three large rooms nearly filled ; and although some interrupted him, many were so struck and over- awed, that they said they would "never oppose again."* At this time he visited and revisited Dummer, where he had once been so useful and happy amongst the poor. " I found," says he, that " they had not forgotten their former love. We took exceeding sweet counsel, prayed, and sang psalms, and eat our bread with gladness and singleness of heart. How did Jesus comfort us by the way ! Monsfrare nequeo sentio tan- tum! Lord, melt down my frozen heart, with a sense of thy unmerited love." From Dummer he went to Salisbury, and there visited " an old disciple, Mr. Wesley's mother ;" but found no opportunity for preaching. He then went to Bath, with the hope of preach- ing in the abbey church for the orphan-house, the trustees having obtained leave of the bishop ; but Dr. C. would not permit him. " He was pleased " (so Whitefield expresses it) " to ♦ See Letter 51. Works, vol. i. whitefield's life and times. 99 give me an absolute refusal to preach either on that or any other occasion, without a positive order from the king or the bishop, I asked him his reasons. He said he was not obliged to give me any. I therefore withdrew, and reached Bristol." There a welcome awaited him ; and he felt the difference. " Who can express the joy with which I was received ? " It was not long, however, unmixed joy. He was refused the use of Redcliife church, although he had the promise of it. The clergyman pretended that " he could not lend his church with- out a special order from the chancellor." Whitefield, with his usual promptitude, put this excuse to the test at once. " I im- mediately waited on the chancellor, who told me frankly, that he would neither give positive leave, nor would he 2^rohihit any one that should lend me a church ; but he would advise me to withdraw to some other place, till he heard from the bishop, and not to preach on any other occasion. I asked him his rea- sons. He answered, — ' Why will you press so hard upon me ? The thing has given general dislike.' I replied, ' Not the orphan- house ; even those that disagree with me in other particulars, approve of that. And as for the gospel — when was it preached without dislike ? ' " Soon after this I waited upon the reverend the dean, who received me with great civility. When I had shown him my Georgia accounts, and answered him a question or two about the colony, I asked him, whether there could be any just ob- jection against my preaching in churches for the orphan-house? After a pause for a considerable time, he said, he could not tell. Somebody knocking at the door, he replied, ' Mr. White- field, I will give you an answer some other time : now I expect company.' ' Will you be pleased to fix any time. Sir,' said I. ' I will send to you,' says the dean. O christian simplicity, whither art thou fled ? " Whitefield himself ^ec?, that afternoon, to the Newgate of Bristol, and obtained the jailer's permission to preach there to the prisoners, " I preached a sermon on the Penitent Thief, and collected fifteen shillings for them." On the following sabbath he preached at St. Werburgh's church to a large au- dience. Even St. Mary Redcliffe was open to him soon, though H 2 too whitefield's life and times, not for a collection. " Blessed Le God, — I thought yesteixlay I should not have the use of any pulpit ; but God has the hearts of all men in his hands." The old effects accompanied this new visit to Bristol. " Great numbers were melted down. Thousands could not find room." He thus verified a prediction which had been sent from London to Bristol, by some raving blasphemer ; — " Whitefield has set the town on fire, and now he is gone to kindle a flame in the country. I think the devil in hell is in you all." The flame was kindled in Bristol ; and the devil had cer- tainly something to do with those who tried to extinguish it. " The chancellor told me plainly, that he intended to stop my proceedings. ' I have sent for the registrar here. Sir, to take down your answers.' He asked me, by what authority I preached in the diocess of Bristol without a licence ? I an- swered, ' I thought that custom was grown obsolete. Why, pray. Sir, did not you ask the clergyman, who preached for you last Thursday, this question ? ' He said, that was nothing to me ? " Dr. Southey says, that Whitefield's reply to the chancellor was given " without the slightest sense of its impropriety or its irre- levance." But where is its irrelevance ? It is certainly quite ad rem, whatever it may be as etiquette, when curates argue with chancellors ; and in all respects, it is more gentlemanly than the chancellor's "tvhat is that to your That is real vulgarity. The Doctor narrates the remainder of this high-church scene, with more discrimination. " The chancellor then read to him those canons which forbade any minister from preaching in a private house. Whitefield answered, he apprehended they did not apply to professed ministers of the church of England. When he was informed of his mistake, he said, ' There is also a canon forbidding all clergymen to frequent taverns and play at cards : why is not that put in execution ? ' And he added, that notwithstanding these canons, he could not but speak the things he knew, and that he was resolved to proceed as usual." Now, if the Doctor pleases, Whitefield is as impolite, as the apostles were to the chancellor of the Jewish sanhedrim ! " His answer was written down, and the chancellor then said, ' I am whitefield's life and times. 101 resolved. Sir, if you preach or expound any where in this diocess till you have a licence, I will first suspend, and then excommu- nicate you.' With this declaration of war they parted : but the advantage was wholly on the side of Whitefield; for the day of ecclesiastical discipline was gone by." Southeys Wesley. Whitefield says, they parted politely. " He waited upon me very civilly to the door, and told me, ' What he did was in the name of the clergy and laity f laity indeed !) of the city of Bris- tol ;' and so we parted. Immediately I went and expounded at Newgate as usual ! " The unusual, as might be expected, soon followed this Bar- tholomew day in Bristol. Ejected from the churches. White- field betook himself to the fields at once. " All the churches being now shut — and if open, not able to contain half that came to hear — I went to Kingswood, amongst the colliers." There he took his station upon Hannam Mount, on Rose Green, and preached, not, as Dr. Gillies says, from the sermon on the mount, but from John iii. 3, on regeneration, his favourite sub- ject. The other text was on a subsequent occasion. "I thought" (says he) " it would be doing the service of my Creator, who had a mountain for his pulpit, and the heavens for his sounding-^ board ; and who, when his gospel was refused by the Jews, sent his servants into the highways and hedges." In thus renewing a practice which, as Dr. Southey says, "had not been seen in England since the dissolution of the monastic orders," and by commencing it at Kingswood, Whitefield dared not a little danger. The colliers were numerous and utterly uncultivated. They had no place of worship. Few ventured to walk even in their neighbourhood ; and when provoked, they were the terror of Bristol. But "none of these things moved " Whitefield, although he was told them all by his timid friends. The fact is, the chancellor had told him something he dreaded more than insult, — that he must be silent ; and that, he could not endure. Instead of insult or opposition at Kingswood, however, " the barbarous people," although they had never been in a church, " showed him no small kindness." His first audience amounted to nearly two thousand, who heard him with great attention and decorum for nearly an hour. His 102 whitefield's life and times, third audience iucreased to five thousand ; and thus they went on increasing to ten, fourteen, and twenty thousand. On one of these occasions he says, " The day was fine — the sun shone very bright — and the people standing in such an awful manner around the mount, in the profoundest silence, filled me with holy admiration. Blessed be God for such a plentiful harvest. Lord, do thou send forth more labourers into thy harvest." Although Whitefield had thus drawn the sword against the obsolete canons of the church, he had not " thrown away the scabbard ;" for, on the morning of the very next day, he waited again on the chancellor, and showed him a letter he had received from the bishop of liOndon. " After usual saluta- tions, I asked why he did not write to the bishop, according to his promise ? I think he answered, — ^he was to blame. I then insisted on his proving I had preached false doctrine, and re- minded him of his threatening to excommunicate me in the name of the clergy and laity of the city of Bristol. But he would have me think — that he had said no such thing ; and con- fessed, that to this day he had neither heard me preach, nor read any of my writings." Thus, it seems, Whitefield was charged with heresy, and threatened with excommunication — and that by a chancellor on mere hearsay evidence ! This reply to Whitefield was surely not given " without the slightest sense of its impropriety or its irrelevance ! " Southeys Wesley. He w^'ote an account of this shameful affair to the bishop of Bristol. " To-day I shov/ed your Lordship's letter to the chan- cellor, who (notwithstanding he promised not to prohibit my preaching for the orphan-house, if your Lordship was only neuter in the affair) has influenced most of the clergy to deny me their pulpits, either on that or any other occasion. Last week, he charged me with false doctrine. To day, he is pleased to for- get that he said so. He also threatened to excommunicate me for preaching in your Lordship's diocess. I offered to take a licence, but was denied. If your Lordship ask, what evil I have done, I answer, — none ; save that I visit the religious societies, preach to the prisoners in Newgate, and to the poor col- liers at Kingswood, who, they tell me, are little better than heathens. I am charged with being a dissenter ! although whitefield's life and times. 103 many are brought to church by my preaching, and not one taken from it. " I am sorry to give your Lordship this trouble, but I thought proper to mention these particulars, that I might know of your Lordship wherein my conduct is exceptionable." A copy of this letter he sent to the chancellor, with the following note ; " The enclosed I sent to the bishop of Bristol : be pleased to peruse it, and see if any thing contrary to truth is there related." How the matter ended, I know not ; except that there was an end to Whitefield's preaching in the churches of Bristol. That led, however, to what he calls, his " heginning to begin " to be a preacher. " I hasted to Kingswood. At a moderate computation, there were above ten thousand people. The trees and hedges were full. All was hush when I began. The sun shone bright, and God enabled me to preach with great power, and so loud, that all (I was told) could hear me. Blessed be God, Mr. spoke right — the fire is kindled in the country. May the gates of hell never be able to prevail against it ! To behold such crowds standing together in such awful silence, and to hear the echo of their singing run from one end of them to the other, was very solemn and striking. How infinitely more solemn and striking will the general assembly of the spirits of just men made perfect be, when they join in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb in heaven ! — As the scene was new, and I had just began to be an extempore preacher, it often occa- sioned many inward conflicts. Sometimes when twenty thou- sand people were before me, I had not, in my own apprehen- sion, a word to say either to God or them ! But I was never totally deserted -, and frequently (for to deny it would be to sin against God) so assisted, that I knew by happy experience what our Lord meant by saying, ' Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living waters.' The gladness and eagerness with which these poor despised outcasts, who had never been in a church in their lives, received the truth, is beyond description ! Having no righteousness of their own to renounce, they were glad to hear of a Jesus, who was the friend of publicans, and came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. The first discovery of their being aff'ected, was to see the white 104 whitefield's life and times. gutters made by their tears, which plentifully fell down their black faces ; black as they came out of the coal-pits. Hundreds and hundreds of them were soon brought under deep conviction, which, as the event proved, ended in a sound and thorough con- version. The change was visible to all ; though numbers chose to impute it to any thing rather than the finger of God." Neither the bishop, nor the chancellor, threw any hinderance in the way of this mighty work. Would they had helped it on ! What an effect would have been produced, had the bishop preached to the colliers in the cathedral ! They were in his diocess, though without both a fold and a shepherd ; and he was more responsible to God for them, than for the dignity of the episcopal throne, where " the traditions of men" had seated him. Prelacy, if above " the work of an evangelist," is beneath the acceptance of good men. Though somewhat embarrassed at first by his novel situa- tion, Whitefield soon found himself in his native element. In churches, however large, there was not room for his mighty voice ; and thus not full scope for his mightier feelings. Both were cramped, although he knew it not, until the horizon was their circle, and the firmament their roof. Immensity above and around him, expanded his spirit to all its width, in all its warmth ; whilst the scenery touched all his sensibilities. Then he knew both his power and his weakness. " The open firma- ment above me," says he, — " the prospect of the adjacent fields, with the sight of thousands and thousands, some in coaches, some on horseback, and some in the trees, — and at times, all aiFected and drenched in tears together ; — to which sometimes v/as added the solemnity of the approaching evening, — was almost too much for me, and quite overcame me." In recording this impressive scene. Dr. Southey, notwith- standing all his recollections of Bristol scenery, has not ascribed to it any part of the impression made by Whitefield upon the people. He does not say of him, as of W^esley, that " he him- self perceived that natural influences operated upon the multi- tude, like the pomp and circumstances of Romish worship :" and yet, Whitefield, although less refined than Wesley, was equally alive to the influence of scenery and seasons ; and often whitefield's life and times. 105 chose situations as bold as the amphitheatre of Gwenap, or as beautiful as the groves of Heptenstal. Watson never wrote with greater severity, nor with more truth, than when he ex- posed the fallacy of ascribing the effect of Wesley's preaching to picturesque scenery. " It is not upon uncultivated minds," he justly says, " that such scenes operate strongly." Besides, " we are not informed how similar effects were produced, when no rocks reared their frowning heads, and when the sea was too far off to mix its murmurs with the preacher's voice ; when no ruined castle nodded over the scene, and when the birds were so provokingly timid as to hasten away to an undisturbed solitude." Whitefield could turn both scenery and circumstances, what- ever they were, to good account. On one occasion, whilst preaching at the Bristol glass-houses, he says, " I heard many people behind me hallooing, and making a noise ; and supposed they were set on to disturb me by somebody. I bless God, I was not in the least moved, but rather increased more in strength. When I was done, I inquired the cause of the noise : I found a gentleman (?) being drunk, had taken the liberty to call me a dog, and say, ' that I ought to be whipped at cart's tail ;' and offered money to any that would pelt me. Instead of that, the boys and people near began to cast stones and dirt at him," This retaliation Whitefield reprobated in strong terms, before he left the ground ; slyly reminding the people, however, of " the sorry wages the devil gives his servants." Some days after he visited this ungentlemanly disturber, to condole with him upon his punishment. The visit was well received, and they parted " very friendly." Journals. After some hasty trips into Wales, from Bristol, he went to his native city, where the congregations were so large, that the clergyman refused him the church on week days. He, there- fore, preached in his " brother's field" to the crowd. He felt deeply for Gloucester, and threw all his soul into his sermons, that he might " save some " where he was born. " To-day," he says, " I felt such an intense love, that I could have almost wished myself accursed (anathema) for my brethren according to the flesh." Such was his zeal to win souls in this city, that he preached alternately in the Boothall and the fields, almost 1 06 whitefield's life and times. every day, during his visit. This encroachment upon the time of the people, drew upon him the charge of encouraging idle- ness ; — which, with his usual readiness, though not with his usual prudence, he retorted by saying, " Ye are idle, ye are idle, say the Pharaohs of this generation ; therefore ye say. Let us go and worship the Lord" He was, however, permitted by the bishop to baptize an old quaker in the church of St. Mary De Crypt, where he himself had been baptized : and there, he did not confine himself to the book ; but, giving way to the emotions awakened by the font where he himself had been presented be- fore the Lord in infancy, he poured out his heart in a free and fervent exhortation to the spectators ; " proving the necessity of the new birth from the Office," From Gloucester he went to Cheltenham, where his acquaint- ance with the Seward family began, although they had to fol- low him to the bowling-green and the market-cross, the churches being all shut against him. And Oxford, to which he went next, completed and sealed this expulsion. " The vice-chan- cellor came in person to the house " where Whitefield was ex- horting, and accosted him thus : " ' Have you. Sir, a name in any book here ? ' ' Yes, Sir,' said I -, ' but I intend to take it out soon.' He replied, ' Yes, and you had best take yourself out too, or otherwise I will lay you by the heels. What do you mean by going about, and alienating the people's affections from their proper pastors ? Your works are full of vanity and nonsense. You pretend to inspiration. If ever you come again in this manner among these people, I will lay you first by the heels, and these shall follow.' " It does not appear that Whitefield returned any answer to this paltry threat. A few days after it, he preached in Moorfields : and from that moment, he cared nothing about chancellors g: vice-chancellors, when they stood in the \^ay of the gospel. In the course of his short excursions into the country, whilst the embargo prevented him from sailing, he visited Olney, where he was " not a little comforted," by meeting, as a field preacher, Mr. R of Bedford, who had been both expelled and impri- soned for preaching the Scriptural doctrines of justification and regeneration. " I believe," says Whitefield, " we are the first whitefield's life and times. 107 professed ministers of the church of England, that were so soon, and without cause, excluded every pulpit. Whether our bre- thren can justify such conduct, the last day will determine." An earlier day determined the question ! The people of Bedford had made up their minds upon it at the time : for thousands assembled regularly around the windmill to hear their expelled minister preach from the stairs ; — " Mr. R 's pulpit," as Whitefield calls it. Journals. During this journey he visited Northampton ; but, although " courteously received by Dr. Doddridge," he had to preach upon the common, " from the starting post." Indeed, he was not welcome to the Doctor's pulpit, even when he did preach there afterwards. Doddridge was so far from " seeking his preaching," that he took " all the steps he could prudently venture on to prevent it." The Doddridge Diary and Correspondence. The clergy having thus shut their pulpits against him, and the dissenters not opened theirs to him, the country magistrates followed in the train of his opponents, and even the inn-keepers were afraid to admit him. At Tewkesbury he found four con- stables waiting to apprehend him, and the whole town in alarm. Happily, a lawyer in the crowd demanded a sight of the war- rant ; and the constables having none, Whitefield determined to preach at all hazards, though beyond the liberties of the town. He did preach in the evening, in the field of a neighbouring gentleman, and two or three thousand people attended. Next morning he waited on one of the town-bailifi"s, and meekly re- monstrated against the attempted outrage. The bailiff told him, that the whole council were against him ; and that a judge had declared him a vagrant, whom he would apprehend. It was now a crisis ; and Whitefield determined to bring the question to an issue. He claimed the protection of the laws. The bailiff's answer was equivocal : " If you preach here to- morrow, you shall have the constables to attend you." Whether this was a threat or a promise, he knew not, and cared not. He did preach next day, in another field, to six thousand people ; " but saw no constables to molest or attend " him. The reports of this affair spread in all forms ; alarming his friends for his safety, and preparing his enemies for his approach. At Basingstoke, the mayor (a butcher) sent him a warning by 108 whitefield's life and times. the hands of a constable. This led to an amusing correspond- ence, as well as to interviews, between the parties ; in which the mayor boasted of what he would do, " although he was a butcher ;" and Whitefield told him what he ought to do as a magistrate. It was the time of the revel at Basingstoke, and many of the people were riotous. Whitefield, however, preached in a field, although he was unprotected, and even told that he would not come out alive. Indeed, it was confessed, some days after, by one of the ringleaders, that a party were pledged to " give him a secret blow, and prevent his disturbances." He was, however, only grossly insulted. The fact is, the magistrates and the booth-keepers were afraid that he would spoil the revel : and he evidently intended to preach at the fair, although he did not exactly say so ; for he repeatedly urged the mayor to prevent the scenes of cudgelling and wrestling, which were going forward. Failing in this, he set out to go to London; but when he saw the stage for the cudgellers and wrestlers, he could not proceed. The following account of his " mad prank," is too charac- teristic of him to be suppressed, although he himself erased it from his journals. " As I passed by on horseback, I saw a stage ; and as I rode farther, I met divers coming to the revel ; which affected me so much, that I had no rest in my spirit. And therefore having asked counsel of God, and perceiving an unusual warmth and power enter my soul, — though I was gone above a mile, — I could not bear to see so many dear souls, for whom Christ had died, ready to perish, and no minister or ma- gistrate interpose. Upon this I told my dear fellow-travellers, that I was resolved to follow the example of Howel Harris in Wales, (he had just come from a tour with him in Wales,) and to bear my testimony against such lying vanities, — ^let the con- sequences, as to my own private person, be what they would. They immediately consenting, I rode back to town, got upon the stage erected for the wrestlers, and began to show them the error of their ways. Many seemed ready to hear what I had to say ; but one more zealous than the rest for his master, and fearing conviction every time I attempted to speak, set the boys on repeating their huzzahs. whitefield's life and times. 109 " My soul, I perceived, was in a sweet frame, willing to be oifered up, so that I might save some of those to whom I was about to speak : but all in vain ! While I was on the stage, one struck me with his cudgel, which I received with the utmost love. At last, finding the devil would not permit them to give me audience, I got off, and after much pushing and thronging me I got on my horse, — with unspeakable satisfaction within myself, that I had now begun to attack the devil in his strongest holds, and had borne my testimony against the detest- able diversions of this generation." Original Journals. ^^^._ The reason why Whitefield excluded this event from his re- vised journals, was, perhaps, the tremendous severity of the following reflections. " Ye masters in Israel, what are ye doing ? Ye magistrates, that are gods in Scripture, why sleep ye ? Why do ye bear the sword in vain ? Why count ye me a troubler in Israel, and why say ye, I teach people to be idle, when ye connive at, if not subscribe to, such hellish 'meetings as these, which not only draw people from their bodily work, but directly tend to destroy their precious and immortal souls ? Surely I shall appear against you at the judgment-seat of Christ ; for these diversions keep people from true Christianity, as much as paganism itself. And I doubt not, but it will re- quire as much courage and power to divert people from these things, as the apostles had to exert in converting the heathen from dumb idols. However, in the strength of my Master, I will now enter the lists, and begin an offensive war with Satan and all his host. If I perish, I perish ! I shall have the testi- mony of a good conscience : I shall be free from the blood of all men." It is easier to find fault with the severity of this in- vective, than to prove that any lower tone of feeling could have sustained any man, in grappling with such national enormities. Whitefield struck the first blow at them, and thus led the way to their abandonment ; an issue which may well excuse even the wildfire of his zeal. Such was his position in London and the country, when he sailed for America the second time. He then left enough for the nation to think about until his return. CHAPTER VI. WHITEFIELD IN WALES. The following singular account of the commencement of method- ism and dissent in Wales, is translated from the " Trysorva/' by Johnes. " In the reign of James I. a clergyman of the name of Wroth was vicar of Llanvaches, in Monmouthshire. Being of a joyous temper, and like most of his countrymen, passionately fond of music, he was sometimes carried beyond the bounds of pro- priety by this enthusiasm. On one occasion, a gentleman with whom he was on terms of intimacy, having presented him with a new harp, fixed a day on which, in company with some friends, he would visit him, and hear him perform upon it. The day ap- pointed came, and Wroth was anxiously expecting his visitor,when a messenger appeared to inform him that his friend was no more ! This incident affected him so deeply, that, repenting the levity of his youth, from a gay clerical troubadour he became all at once a sad but zealous divine. With these impressions, he de- termined to commence preaching to his congregation, a practice then almost unknown in the churches of the principality. As a preacher, he soon distinguished himself so much, that the Welch peasantry flocked from all the neighbouring counties to hear him. His audience, being frequently too numerous for his church to contain — on such occasions, he was in the habit of addressing them in the churchyard. It is said that Sir Lewi's Mansel, of Margam, a man illustrious for his exalted religious and patriotic zeal, was often one of his congregation. " The irregularity alluded to at last exposed him to the censure of his diocesan, who, on one occasion, asked him, in anger, how he could vindicate his infringement of the rules of whitefield's life and times. Ill the church ? To this reprimand Wroth replied, by appealing, with tears in his eyes, to the religious ignorance which prevailed throughout the country, and to the necessity of employing every means to dissipate it : by which answer, the bishop is said to have been deeply affected. Eventually, however, by refusing to read the ' Book of Sports,' and by the general tenor of his con- duct, he rendered himself so obnoxious to the dignitaries of the church, that he was deprived of his benefice. After his expul- sion, he continued to preach in secret to his old followers, and at last he formed, from amongst them, a regular dissenting con- gregation, on the independent model. From Llanvaches, the opinions of its pastor soon spread themselves into the remotest corners of Wales : during his life, this village was regarded as the rallying point of the Welch nonconformists. Wroth, never- theless, seems to have cherished to the last some feeling of affec- tion towards the church, of which he had once been a minister ; for, on his death, which occurred in 1640, he was buried, at his own request, under the threshold of the church of Llanvaches. During the civil wars, which broke out soon afterwards, the independents were not only tolerated, but predominant. In Cromwell's time, an attempt was made to get rid of every thing like an establishment, and to substitute a few itinerant minis- ters in its place. The modicum of preachers proposed to be given by this plan of economical piety was six to a county ; it was lost in the House of Commons, by a majority of two voices. It was felt, however, that the bright thought was too precious to be discarded without an experiment ; and, accordingly, it was partly carried into effect in Wales, under Hugh Peters and Vavasor Powel, and a confiscation of church property in that country ensued, to an enormous amount ; for, unhappily, under all the various forms of civil and ecclesiastical polity which have prevailed in England, the Welch church has been treated as a fair field for experiments, no less injurious to the general cause of religion than to Wales. " In the times of the Stuarts, dissent from the episcopal church became once more an object of persecution; but the ministers of the Welch nonconformists still continued to traverse the wild hills of the principality, braving ail dangers for the sake 112 whitefield's life and times. of their few and scattered followers. Their congregations still occasionally met, but it was in fear and trembling, generally at midnight, or in woods and caverns, amid the gloomy recesses of the mountains. " At the revolution, these dissenters exhausted their strength by controversies amongst themselves on the rite of baptism; on which subject a difference of opinion had long existed amongst them, though persecution had prevented them from making it a ground of disunion. Till the breaking out of methodism, their cause continued to decline. " In the year 1736, there were only six dissenting chapels in all North Wales. In this year an incident occurred which forms an interesting link between the history of the early Welch dissenters (the followers of Wroth) and that of the me- thodists, connecting together the darkening prospects of the former and the first symptoms of that more powerful impulse which was communicated by the latter. One Sunday, Mr. Lewis Rees, a dissenting minister from South Wales, and father of the celebrated author of the Cyclopeedia, visited Pwllheli, a town in the promontory of Lleyn, in Caernarvonshire, and one of the few places in which the independents still possessed a chapel. After the service, the congregation, collecting around him, complained bitterly, that their numbers were rapidly di- minishing, that the few who yet remained were for the most part poor, and that every thing looked gloomy to their cause. To which the minister replied, ' The dawn of true religion is again breaking in South Wales, — a great man, named Howel Harris, has recently risen up, who goes about instructing the people in the truths of the gospel.' Nor was he mistaken, either in his anticipation that dissent was on the eve of bursting forth with tenfold vigour in Wales, nor in the man from whom he expected this result : the first elements of methodism were al- ready at work ; Howel Harris was its founder, and one of its most distinguished champions. Properly speaking, the history of methodism is the history of dissent in Wales : before enter- ing, however, upon this interesting subject, it will be necessary to give a cursory view of the state of the church in Wales at the time of its origin, as hardly a doubt can be entertained that the whitefield's life and times. 113 predisposing causes to raethodism were to be found in the in- efficiency of the establishment. " The following is a translation of an 'Account of the State of Religion in Wales about the middle of the Eighteenth Century.' It was taken from the mouth of a very old Welch methodist, and published in 1799, in the 'Trysorva,' a Welch periodical, edited by the Rev. Thomas Charles, of Bala ; and I have high authority for asserting that the descriptions it affords are in no respect exaggerated." Johnes. " ' In those days,' says the narrator, ' the land was dark in- deed ! Hardly any of the lower ranks could read at all. The morals of the country were very corrupt ; and in this respect there was no difference between gentle and simple, layman and clergyman. Gluttony, drunkenness, and licentiousness, pre- vailed through the whole country. Nor were the operations of the church at all calculated to repress these evils. From the pulpit the name of the Redeemer was hardly ever heard ; nor was much mention made of the natural sinfulness of man, nor of the influence of the Spirit. On Sunday mornings, the poor were more constant in their attendance at church than the gentry ; but the Sunday evenings were spent by all in idle amusements. Every sabbath there was what was called ' Achwaren-gamp,' a sort of sport in which all the young men of the neighbourhood had a trial of strength, and the people assembled from the surrounding country to see their feats. On Saturday night, par- ticularly in the summer, the young men and maids held what they called ' Singing eves ' (nosweithian cann) ; that is, they met together and diverted themselves by singing in turns to the harp, till the dawn of the sabbath. In this town they used to employ the Sundays in dancing and singing to the harp, and in playing tennis against the town-hall. In every corner of the town some sport or other went on, till the light of the sabbath day had faded away. In the summer, ' interludes ' (a kind of rustic drama) were performed, gentlemen and peasants sharing the diversion together. A set of vagabonds, called the ' bobl gerdded,' (walking people,) used to traverse the country, begging with impunity, to the disgrace of the law of the land.' " Such, then, was the state of Welch society, and the Welch I 1!4 wiiitefield's life and times. church in the middle of the last century ; and it is a singular instance of the impression left by the vice and levity of this period, that the sounds of our national instrument are still asso- ciated, in the minds of many, with the extravagances of which it was formerly an accompaniment, though, apart from adven- titious associations, its simple and pensive tones are certainly far more congenial with devotional feeling, than with levity or with joy. I have frequently heard, that the late Mr. Charles, of Bala, was so much under the sway of these recollections, that it was quite painful to him to remain in a room in which any one was playing upon the harp. " At first sight, nothing would appear more improbable than that methodism should find proselytes among a people so gay and thoughtless, as the Welch of that period ; or that the joy- ous group which assembled at Bala on a Sunday evening, should become, as was shortly afterwards the case, a leading congrega- tion of modern puritans. But the religion of the Welch, and their fondness for national music, arose from the same cause, an earnest and imaginative frame of mind. A disposition to melancholy, disguised by external gaiety of manner, is charac- teristic of all Celtic nations. ' As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, Though the stream runs in darkness and coldness below.' " With all their social sprightliness, the Welch were then a superstitious and, consequently, a gloomy race. The influence of the church had confessedly done little to civilize the people ; they still retained many habits apparently derived from pagan- ism, and not a few of the practices of popery. Their funerals, like those of the Irish, were scenes of riot and wassail. When the methodists first came into North Wales, the peasantry ex- pressed their horror of them and their opinions, by the truly popish gesture of crossing their foreheads ; they also paid great veneration to a tale called ' Brenddwyd Mair,' (Mary's dream,) obviously a popish legend. Children were taught, even within my recollection, to repeat a rhyme like the following, as soon as they had been put into bed at night : whitefield's life and times. 115 ' There are four corners to ray bed, And four angels there are spread; Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John ; God bless the bed that I lie on.' " Some of their customs and notions were extremely fanciful. On the Sunday after a funeral, each relation of the deceased knelt on his grave, exclaiming, ' Nevoedd iddo/ (literally. Hea- ven to him,) that is, ' May he soon reach heaven.' This is plainly a relic of the popish custom of praying the soul out of purgatory. If children died before their parents, the parents regarded them as so many candles to light them to paradise. When Wesley came into Wales, he found the ignorance of the people so great, that he pronounced them ' as little versed in the principles of Christianity, as a Creek or Cherokee Indian.' To this declaration he adds the striking expression, that, notwith- standing their superstition and ignorance, the people ' were ripe for the gospel,' and most enthusiastically anxious to avail them- selves of every opportunity of instruction ; — an interesting proof, that the necessary tendency of the corruptions of the Welch church to produce the consequences which have since ensued, was sufficiently obvious, even to the cursory view of a stranger. " It was quite clear, then, to those who lived while methodism was yet in its infancy in Wales, that the country was about to become the scene of a great religious change. There was evi- dently a movement in the minds of the people — a longing for the extension of their spiritual advantages, which would ulti- mately lead them out from the establishment, unless provided with food from within. In such a state of popular feeling to- wards existing institutions, whether civil or ecclesiastical, it often happens that the most trivial deviation from ordinary routine becomes the basis of a series of innovations, and serves to impart an impetus and a direction to the dormant elements of disunion. It is only by keeping these considerations steadily in view, that we can clearly comprehend the early history of methodism in Wales, and avoid the confused ideas that are sometimes entertained as to the conduct of those with whom it commenced, and the exact date of its commencement. The I 2 116 whitefield's life and times. real truth is, that the separation of the Welch methodists from the church took place by insensible degrees. The first symp- tom was an unusual and somewhat irregular zeal in a certain body of clergy in the church itself; and these first faint traces of irregularity (which probably at the time excited little notice) gradually, and in the course of generations, widened into a broad line of demarcation. It was in this manner that the breaking out of methodism was undoubtedly hastened by the exertions of two eminent divines, whose only intention was to infuse new vigour into the established church, — I mean the Rev. Rhees Pritchard, and the Rev. Griffith Jones. " The former, who is familiarly known to his countrymen under the name of ' Vicar Pritchard,' was vicar of the parish of Llanddyvri, in Caermarthenshire, in the time of James the First and Charles the First. " Of the particulars of his life, little is known, except that whilst he stood high in the estimation of his countrymen, as a preacher, he was at the same time an object of peculiar favour with the ruling powers of the day, — honours which his coun- trymen in recent times have rarely seen enjoyed by the same individual. Though, like Wroth, he is said to have attracted numerous congregations, and to have occasionally preached in his churchyard, still he had the good fortune to be made chap- lain to the Earl of Essex, received from James the First the living of Llanedi, and eventually became chancellor of the diocess of St. David's. As a proof of his charitable disposi- tion, and of his anxiety to enlighten his countrymen, we are informed that he gave a donation of twenty pounds a year, charged upon land, to establish a school in his parish of Lland- dyvri, and also a house for the schoolmaster. This endowment (no insignificant one in those days) went on prosperously for some time, but on the death of the founder's son, Thomas Manwaring, son of Dr. Manwaring, bishop of St. David's, who had married ' the vicar's ' granddaughter, took possession of the land belonging to the school, undertaking to pay the school- master himself, which he did for a year or two, and then with- held from it all support. His biographer adds, that in 1682, the land was still in the possession of the Manwaring family, — whitefield's life and times. 117 and that the school-house had been swept away by an inunda- tion of the river Tyrvi ! " But the veneration still felt in Wales for the memory of ' Vicar Pritchard,' is mainly attributable to a small volume of poems, which are not a little remarkable, as a summary of christian doctrine and duty, at once simple, poetical, and con- cise. No book, except the Bible, has been there so much and so enthusiastically studied : its author may justly be styled the Watts of his native country ; and, notwithstanding the unhappy divisions that have since his day distracted her, the undiminish- ed popularity of his little book proves that there is even yet no schism in the principality as far as the ' Divine Poems ' of ' Vicar Pritchard ' are concerned. " After the poet's death, his works were collected and pub- lished by Stephen Hughes, a worthy nonconformist, who zeal- ously disseminated them through Caermarthenshire, and the adjacent parts of South Wales. In almost every cottage where the Scriptures were to be found, ' the vicar's ' little volume oc- cupied a place beside them : it became a class-book in every school, and its most striking passages passed into proverbs among the peasantry. Hence, at the beginning of the last century, a spirit had sprung up in certain districts of South Wales, that formed a strong contrast to the general ignorance which at that time pervaded the principality. The effect of poetry on minds left unoccupied by other reading has in all ages been remarked : thus, we are told that the great Bishop Bull, when bishop of St. David's, was so much struck with the impression made on the minds of the people by the writings of * Vicar Pritchard,' that he expressed a wish to be buried in the same grave with him ! " Griffith Jones was born at Kilrhedin, also in the county of Caermarthen.* Even in his boyhood, he evinced a strong sense of religion, which has sometimes, though erroneously, been thought incompatible with the unformed views and elastic spirits of our earlier years. Lilce Bishop Heber, he might justly be termed a 'religious child:' whilst yet a boy at Caer- * Trysorva, vol. ii. p. I. 118 whitefield's life and times. marthen school, he was in the habit of retiring from the pas- times of his play-fellows for the purpose of secret prayer. In the year 1709, he was ordained by Bishop Bull ; on which oc- casion he experienced marks of peculiar kindness and approba- tion from that illustrious prelate, the recollection of which con- tinued ever after a source of gratitude and delight to him. In 1711, he was presented to the living of Llandeilo Abercowyn, and in 1716, Llanddowror was added to it by the patron. Sir John Phillips, of Picton Castle, in Pembrokeshire, with whom he was connected by marriage. " His constitution was naturally delicate, and he describes himself as having been in early youth so much afflicted with asthma, that he could not walk across a room without pain and difficulty ; but his was a mind which seemed capable of impart- ing a portion of its own energy, even to his debilitated frame ; as he advanced in life, this infirmity, in a great measure, for- sook him ; and of this we have ample proof in the various la- bours he accomplished. " The fame of Griffith Jones chiefly rests on an institution he devised for the diffusion of education in Wales, still known under the name of the 'Welch Circulating Schools.' The main feature of this plan is the instruction of the people by means of itinerant schoolmasters. It was first suggested to him by the following train of circumstances : — On the Saturday previous to sacrament Sunday, it was his practice to assemble his flock to- gether, and read to them the service of the church. '' At the conclusion of the second lesson, he would ask in a mild and familiar tone, if any one present wished an explana- tion of any part of the chapter they had just heard ; and on a difficult verse being mentioned, he would expound it in plain and simple language, adapted to the capacities of his hearers. On the day following, before admitting communicants to the sacrament, he used to examine them on their ideas of christian doctrines, and as to their general moral conduct. On these occasions, his church was generally crowded : numbers came from the neighbouring districts, and it frequently happened that twenty or thirty persons were publicly examined by him before receiving the communion. But he found that those who were whitefield's life and times. 119 likely to derive most benefit from this plan of instruction — men who had grown up in ignorance — were deterred from attending by a consciousness of their inability to answer the questions that might be put to them. To remedy this, he made a prac- tice of fixing the Saturday before the sacrament Sunday, for the distribution among the poor of the bread purchased by the money collected at the previous sacrament. Having by this means brought them together, he arranged them in a class, and proceeded to ask them a few easy questions, with an affa- bility and kindness of manner that immediately removed all embarrassment and reserve ; and pursuant to an arrangement he had previously made, these questions were answered by some of the more advanced scholars. In a little time the humbler classes became willing and constant attendants at the altar. And for the purpose of still further grounding his flock in reli- gious knowledge, he was in the habit of requesting them to commit to memory every month a certain portion of the Bible. Thus it became a regular custom among his poor parishioners, to repeat each a verse of Scripture on receiving the bread pur- chased with the sacrament money. " This system of examination had the effect of affording him a very clear insight into the notions and attainments of the peasantry, the result of which was an opinion that preaching was calculated to convey only vague and imperfect views to the minds of the poorer classes, unless combined with catechising and other methods of instruction. Following up these im- pressions, he was led to consider the incalculable benefit that would result, were a well-organized system of schools extended over the whole surface of his native country. These were the steps by which he arrived at the first conception of that noble machinery which he soon afterwards set in motion. At first, it would seem that he looked upon his plan rather in the light of a favourite day-dream, than as a project which had the slightest chance of success. Nevertheless, he had too much 'moral chivalry' to despair, — too much of that imaginative love of enterprise, without which no great impression has ever been made on the people with whom he had to deal. Accord- ingly, a beginning was made. In the year 1730, the first school 120 whitefield's life and times. was founded, with the sacrament money of the parish of Lland- dowror ; and it answered so well, that a second was established shortly afterwards ; and this again was attended with such ad- mirable effects, that several benevolent individuals, both in Wales and England, were induced to support the scheme with a liberality that enabled their founder to realize his fondest an- ticipations. The Society for promoting Christian Knowledge voted him a very generous donation of Bibles and other books. Thus supported, the schools continued rapidly to increase : from an account published in August, 1741, that is, about ten years after their commencement, it appears, that the number of schools in existence during the past year had amounted to 128, and the number of persons instructed in them to 7595. The plan on which Griffith Jones proceeded was simply this : he first engaged a body of schoolmasters, and then distributed them in different directions over the coimtry. The duty of these men was to teach the people to read the Scriptures in the Welch language, to catechise them, to instruct them in psal- mody, and to promote their religious advancement by every means in their power. They were sent, in the first instance, to the nearest town or village where their assistance had been re- quested ; and then, having taught all who were desirous of instruction, they were to pass on to the next district where a similar feeling had been manifested. In the course of time, they were to revisit the localities whence they had at first started, and resume the work of education anew on the youth who had sprung up in their absence ; and thus making a continual cir- cuit of the whole country, to present to every generation as it arose the means of knowledge, and the incentives to virtuous principle. " Griffith Jones seems to have been in his day the most popu- lar and indefatigable preacher in the principality. He was, in consequence, often solicited by his clerical brethren with appli- cations to preach in their pulpits, with which he was in the habit of complying, by making a. kind of tour through the neighbour- ing districts of South Wales, and preaching in the churches as he passed. Like Wroth and ' Vicar Pritchard,' he would some- times forsake the pulpit for the tombstone or the green sward, when he found the church too small for his audience. whitefield's life and times. 121 " He generally managed to make these excursions during the Easter and Whitsun-week, as he had a greater chance, at these seasons, of falling in with some of those scenes of pugnacious uproar, and drunken frolic, which were at that time so much in vogue in his native country, and which it was always his object to discourage. When he met with one of these rustic carnivals, he would attempt to disperse it with all the arguments he could employ ; and we are told by an individual who fi-equently ac- companied him on these occasions, that though the beginning of his address was generally received with looks of anger and churlish disdain, its conclusion was always marked by symptoms of strong emotion, and by an expression of reverence and awe, from the whole assembled multitude. The great number of persons whose conversion (and I use the word in the sense of a change, not of opinion, but of conduct — a fundamental, moral revolution of the motives of the heart) is traceable to him, fur- nishes a strong additional proof, that there was something pe- culiarly impressive in the eloquence of Griffith Jones. His biographer has very forcibly described the distinctive excellence of his pulpit oratory, by saying, it was ' gavaelgar ar y gydwy- bod,' that is, it possessed a ' grasp on the conscience ;' and, he adds, that the commencement of his discourses were generally familiar and unadorned ; but that, as he went on, his spirit seemed to kindle and burn, ' gwresogi a thaniaw,' with his sub- ject. Indeed, his merits, as a preacher, seem to have been held in high estimation beyond the limits of his native country ; for it is an interesting incident in his history, that at one period of his life, he received an invitation from the Society for the Pro- pagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, to become one of their missionaries. Ultimately, as we have seen, he decided that his path of duty lay in the humble land of his birth. " After accomplishing a variety of labours, which might have seemed quite incompatible with his delicate health, — and estab- lishing his favourite schools in almost every parish of Wales, — this excellent man breathed his last in the month of April, 1761, leaving behind him, in the religious regeneration and the reli- gious gratitude of a nation of mountaineers, a memorial, which will be envied most by those who are at once the greatest ajad 122 whitefield's life and times. the humblest of mankind, and which will elidure when the osten- tatious monuments of worldly power shall melt away ' like the baseless fabric of a vision.' " It may now be asked," says Johnes, " with what degree of propriety the rise of dissent in Wales can be connected with the name of Griffith Jones — a man whose whole life was spent in exertions to render the establishment impregnable against dissent on the one hand, and the more fearful encroachments of sin, ignorance, and superstition, on the other ? One answer only can be given : it is a melancholy truth — a truth, nevertheless, but too well sanctioned by experience, that a few pious minis- ters are the weakness, and not the strength, of an establishment, when the majority of its ministers are sunk in indifference to their sacred duties ! The zeal of the few only serves to cast into darker shade the apathy of the many ; and, by raising the moral sentiment of the people, to make them more sensitively intole- rant of the abuses that surround them. It is upon this principle only, that we can explain whence it was, that methodism broke out first, and most extensively, in that division of Wales where the poems of Rhees Prit chard and the schools of Griffith Jones had exerted the most powerful influence. And hence it was, that so many of those clergymen, who had been connected with the latter, became eventually the missionaries of methodism ; and it may also be remarked, that the irregularities of the me- thodist clergy, Avhich led in the end to systematic itinerancy, appear to have begun by the practice of preaching from church to church, which they seem to have adopted in imitation of Griffith Jones's ' Easter and Whitsun ' circuits." Whitefield's connexion with Howel Harris of Trevecca led to results which deserve to be traced step by step. It began by a letter from Whit efield; which has, happily, been preserved at Trevecca. " London, Dec, 1738. My dear brother. Though I am unknown to you in person, yet I have long been united to you in spirit ; and have been rejoiced to hear how the good pleasure of the Lord prospered in your hands." — " Go on, go on ; He that sent you will assist, comfort, and protect you, and make you more than conqueror through his great love. I am a living monument of this truth." — " I love you, and wish you whitefield's life and times. 123 may be the spiritual father of thousands, and shine as the sun in the kingdom of your heavenly Father. Oh how I shall joy to meet you — at the judgment seat ! How you would honour me, if you would send a line to your affectionate though unworthy brother, G. W." Harris's answer was prompt and cordial. I am happy to be able to furnish extracts from it. " Glamorgan, Jan. 8th, 1739. Dear brother, I was most agreeably surprised last night by a letter from you. The character you bear, the spirit I see and feel in your work, ajnd the close union of my soul and spirit to yours, will not allow me to use any apology in my return to you. Though this is the first time of our correspondence, yet I can assure you I am no stranger to you. When I first heard of you, and your labours and success, my soul was united to you, and engaged to send addresses to heaven on your behalf. When I read your diary, I had some uncommon influence of the divine presence shining upon my poor soul, almost continually. And my soul was, in an uncommon manner, drawn out on your ac- count : — but I little thought our good Lord and Master intended I should ever see your hand-writing." (In his journal Harris wrote, " About this time, I heard fi-om a friend that came fi-om London, of a young clergyman, namely, Mr. AVhitefield, that preached four times a day, and was much blessed. In hearing this, my heart was united to him in such a manner, that I never felt the like connexion with any one before : but yet I had not the least prospect of ever seeing him ; being informed that he had gone beyond sea to America. I was agreeably surprised, in the beginning of January, by a letter from him : he having providentially heard of me, wrote to me to encourage me to go on. I was at this time greatly distressed in respect to my itin- erary way of preaching : — yet I prosecuted my work with the utmost activity.") " Sure, no person is under such obligations to advance the glory of free goodness and grace, as this poor prodigal," — ^himself. " Oh how ravishing it is to hear of the divine love and favour to London ! And to make your joy greater still, I have some more good news to send you from Wales. There is a great revival in Cardiganshire, through one Mr. D. Rowlands, a church clergyman, who has been much 124 whitefield's life and times. owned and blessed in Caermarthenshire also. We have also a sweet prospect in Breconshire, and part of Monmouthshire." — " I hint this in general, as I could not testify my love any way more agreeably to your soul, than to let you know how the interest of our good, gracious, and dear Saviour prospers here- abouts."— " Were you to come to Wales, it would not be labour in vain. I hope the faithful account I have given you, will ex- cite you to send again a line to him, that would be sincerely yours, in Jesus Christ, whilst H. H." In this way Whitefield and Howel Harris attracted each other. How much they influenced each other also, will be best told in their own words. In the mean time, however, I must give some account of Howel ; for he is too little known. Dr. Gillies knew him merely " as one Howel Harris, a layman ;" and the Doctor's editors and annotators have not amplified this account of him. Howel Harris was born at Trevecca, Brecknockshire, in 1714. He was intended for the church, by his family ; and had flat- tering prospects of patronage. Up to the twenty-first year of his age, he had, however, no serious views of his character, or of his destined profession. His first thoughtfulness was awak- ened in Talgarth church, by a sermon on the neglect of the sacrament. He had been a very irregular attendant, and thus was conscience-struck w^hen the clergyman exclaimed, " If you are unfit to visit the table of the Lord, you are unfit to visit the church, you are unfit to live, you are unfit to die." From this time, his vague convictions deepened and settled into vital principles. On the very day, whilst going home after the sermon, he met with a person whom he had offended, and both confessed the offence and begged forgiveness. For a time, however, he was the victim of great mental anguish. Remorse darkened and depressed his spirit, although he had abandoned all his old sins, and solemnly resolved to make the service of God " the key-stone of his conduct." Happily for himself, he did not forget the souls of others, whilst brooding over his own fears : but as soon as he caught a glimpse of his way to the cross, he began to instruct and invite his neighbours to flee from the wrath to come. In this work, he found so much comfort whitefield's life and times. 125 for himself, and saw so much good done by it, that it became " the sole occupation of his life." In November, 1735, he went to Oxford, to finish his studies, with an express view to ordination : but he was so much dis- gusted with the immorality of the University, that he staid only one term. He returned home, and renewed his visits and exhortations in the cottages of the poor, and commenced field preaching. And such was the effect, that in the course of a year, " so many had become embued with serious impressions," that he began to form them into religious societies. " In the formation of these associations," he says, " I followed the rules of Dr. Woodward, in a work written by him on that subject. Previously to this, no societies of the kind had been founded either in Wales or England. The English methodists had not become famous as yet, although, as I afterwards learnt, several of them in Oxford were at that time under strong religious in- fluences." Harris had organized thirty of these societies, before Whitefield or Wesley visited Wales : not, however, as dissent- ing or methodist congregations ; nor, indeed, with any view of their ever separating from the church. The revival of religion in the church was his avowed object from the first, and his pro- fessed object through life. Whitefield and Howel Harris met for the first time at Car- diff, in 1739 ; just whilst the former was glowing with the re- collections of what he had seen and felt amongst the colliers at Bristol ; and whilst the latter was girding himself for a new campaign in Wales. On his way from Bristol to Cardiff, Whitefield was delayed, by contrary winds, at the New Passage. " At the inn," he says, " there was an unhappy clergyman, who would not go over in the passage boat, because I was in it. Alas, thought I, this very temper would make heaven itself un- pleasant to that man, if he saw me there. I was told, that he charged me with being a dissenter. I saw him, soon after, shaking his elbows over a gaming-table. I heartily wish those who charge me causelessly with schism, and being righteous over-much, would consider that the canon of our church forbids the clergy to frequent taverns, to play at cards or dice, or any other unlawful games. Their indulging themselves in these things is a stumblingblock to thousands. 126 whitefield's life and times. At Cardiff, Whitefield preached in the town-hall, from the judges' seat. Harris was there. " After I came from the seat," he says, " I was much refreshed with the sight of Mr. Howel Harris ; whom, though I knew not in person, I have long loved, and have often felt my soul drawn out in prayer in his behalf. " A burning and shining light has he been in those parts ; a barrier against profaneness and immorality, and an indefati- gable promoter of the gospel of Jesus Christ. About three or four years, God has inclined him to go about doing good. He is now about twenty-five years of age. Twice he has applied (being in every Avay qualified) for holy orders ; but was refused. About a month ago he offered himself again, but was put oft'. Upon this, he was and is resolved to go on in his work ; and indefatigable zeal has he shown in his Master's service ! For these three years (as he told me with his own mouth) he has discoursed almost twice every day, for three or four hours toge- ther. He has been, I think, in seven counties, and has made it his business to go to wakes, &c. to turn people from lying vanities. Many alehouse people, fiddlers, and harpers, Deme- trius-like, sadly cry out against him for spoiling their business. He has been made the subject of many sermons, has been threatened with public prosecutions, and had constables sent to apprehend him. But God has blessed him with inflexible courage ; and he still goes on from conquering to conquer. Many call and own him as their spiritual father. He discourses generally in a field ; but, at other times, in a house ; from a wall, a table, or any thing else. He has established nearly thirty societies in South Wales, and still his sphere of action is enlarged daily. He is full of faith and the Holy Ghost. He is of a most catholic spirit ; loves all who love the Lord Jesus Christ ; and therefore he is styled, by bigots, a dissenter. He is contemned by all that are lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God ; but God has greatly blessed his pious endeavours. " When I first saw him, my heart was knit closely to him. I wanted to catch some of his fire, and gave him the right hand of fellowship with my whole heart. After I had saluted him, and given an exhortation to a great number of people, who fol- lowed me to the inn, we spent the remainder of the evening in taking sweet counsel together, and telling one another what God whitefield's life and times. 127 had done for our souls. A divine and strong sympathy seemed to he hetween us, and I was resolved to promote his interest with all my might. Accordingly, we took an account of the several societies, and agreed on such measures as seemed most conducive to promote the common interest of our Lord. Blessed he God ! there seems a nohle spirit gone out into Wales ; and I believe that, ere long, there will he more visible fruits of it. What inclines me strongly to think so is, that the partition wall of bigotry and party spirit is broken down, and ministers and teachers of different communions join with one heart and one mind, to carry on the kingdom of Jesus Christ. The Lord make all the christian world thus minded ; for until this is done, we must, I fear, despair of any great reformation in the church of God." Any thing that would lessen the impression of these conclud- ing remarks, would be ill-timed, and in bad taste ; but still, it would be improper, even if it were possible, to forget that this fall of " the partition wall of bigotry and party spirit " has, like the fall of popish Babylon, been too often celebrated before the time, by sanguine and catholic men. It is now nearly a century since Whitefield said that it was fallen. Good man ! he thought the whole wall had surely given way, whenever he found an un- expected breach in it, at which he could enter with the gospel, even if he was pelted with the broken fragments. So other good men thought and said, during the novelty of Bible and Missionary Societies. Then, not only was the partition wall declared to be fallen, but bigotry was registered in the bills of mortality, and said to be buried for ever. And yet, even now that there is a far nobler spirit of reformation gone forth in the church, than ever Whit eti eld saw, or than the first friends of our great societies anticipated, the wall is higher than ever, and has, of late, had a copping of broken glass and rusty spikes laid upon it. There is, indeed, a sense in which, like Babylon, it is some- what fallen ; but the great and final " fall thereof " is yet to come in the case of both. Neither will fall, however, like the walls of Jericho, at one crash, nor by one crisis ; although both will be overthrown by one process — by bearing around them the ark of the covenant, with the sound of its own trumpets. 128 whitefield's life and times. It is when such men as George Whitefield and Howel Harris meet and blend their hallowed fires, to set a " whole princi- pality in a blaze/' that the wall of bigotry is shaken, by the numbers which climb over from both sides, to hear the gospel. From the moment these champions of the cross joined issue in Cardiff, Wales began to be evangelized. In 1715, the number of dissenting chapels was only 35 ; in 1810, it amounted to 954; in 1832, to more than 1400. They are still multiplying; and, lately, the debt upon them, so far as they are independent, has been wiped off by a burst of " the voluntary principle." What then must have been the spiritual state of Wales, at the beginning of the last century ? In 1715, there were only 35 dissenting chapels, and about 850 churches, in all the principality ! Whitefield says of his first interview with Howel Harris, " I doubt not but Satan envied our happiness ; but I hope, by the help of God, we shall make his kingdom shake. God loves to do great things by weak instruments, that the power may be of God, and not of man." Before leaving Cardiff, Whitefield preached again in the town-hall, to a large assembly. " My dear brother Harris sat close by me. I did not observe any scoffers within ; but with- out, some were pleased to honour me so far, as to trail a dead fox, and hunt it about the hall. But blessed be God, my voice prevailed. This being done, I went with many of my hearers, amongst whom were two worthy dissenting ministers, to public worship ; and in the second lesson were these remarkable words, ' The high priests, and the scribes, and the chief of the people sought to destroy him ; but they could not find what they might do to him ; for all the people were attentive to him.' " In the afternoon, I preached again without any disturbance or scoffing. In the evening, I talked for above an hour and a half with the religious society, and never did I see a congrega- tion more melted down. The love of Jesus touched them to the quick. Most of them were dissolved in tears. They came to me after, weeping, bidding me farewell, and wishing I could continue with them longer. Thanks be to God, for such an entrance into Wales ! I wrestled with God for them in prayer. whitefield's life and times. 129 and blessed His holy name for sending me into Wales. I hope these are the first-fruits of a greater harvest, if ever it should please God to bring me back from Georgia. Father, thy will be done ! " " Friday, March 9. Left Cardiff about six in the morning, and reached Newport about ten, where many came from Ponty- pool and other parts to hear me. The minister being asked, and readily granting us the pulpit, I preached with great power to about a thousand people. I think Wales is excellently well prepared for the gospel of Christ. They have, I hear, many burning and shining lights both among the dissenting and church ministers ; amongst whom Mr. Griffith Jones shines in particular. No less than fifty charity schools have been erect- ed by his means, without any settled visible fund ; and fresh ones are setting up every day. People make nothing of coming twenty miles to hear a sermon. Even so. Lord Jesus. Amen ! " On the following clay Whitefield returned from this short ex- cursion to Bristol again, " baptized with " Welch " fire," and renewed his labours amongst the Kingswood colliers, with ex- traordinary power and success. He could not, however, forget the Welch tears, which had entreated him to stay longer. Ac- cordingly, on the 4th of April he visited Husk and Pontypool, and was met by Howel Harris again. At Husk, " The pulpit being denied, I preached upon a table, under a large tree, to some hundi-eds, and God was with us of a truth. On my way to Pontypool, I was informed by a man that heard it, that Counsellor H. did me the honour to make a public motion to Judge P. to stop me and brother Howel Harris from going about teaching the people. Poor man, he put me in mind of Tertullus, in the Acts ; but my hour is not yet come. I have scarce begun my testimony. For my finishing it, my enemies must have power over me from above. Lord, prepare me for that hour." This report did not prevent the curate of Pontypool from welcoming Whitefield to his pulpit. He also read prayers for him. After the sermon, it was found that so many had come to hear, who could not find room in the church, that another sermon was loudly called for. " I went," he says, " and preach- K 130 whitefield's life and times. ed to all the people in the field. I always find I have most power when I speak in the open air ; a proof to me — that God is pleased with this way of preaching. I betook myself to rest, full of such unutterable peace as no one can conceive but those y^hofecl it ! " " April 5th. All the way from Pontypool to Abergavenny, I could think of nothing so much as Joshua going from city to city, and subduing the devoted nations. Here I expected much opposition, having been informed that many intended to disturb me. But God impressed an awe upon all ; so that although there were many opposers, no one dared to utter a word. I did not spare the scoffers. Afterwards we retired and sung a hymn ; and some ladies having the curiosity to hear us, I took that opportunity of dissuading them against balls and assem- blies. Afterwards I learnt that they were the mistresses of the assemblies in Abergavenny. I hope God intended them good." " April Gth. Reached Carleon, a town famous for having thirty British kings buried in it, and producing three martyrs. I chose particularly to come hither, because when Howel Harris was here last, some of tlie baser sort beat a drum, and huzzaed around him, to disturb him. Many thousands came to hear ; but God suffered them not to move a tongue, although from the very same place, and I prayed for Howel Harris by name — as I do in every place where I have preached in Wales. I believe the scoffers fidt me, to some purpose. I was carried out beyond myself. Oh that the love of Christ would melt them down ! " " In the afternoon we set out for Trelek, ten miles from Car- leon ; but the Welch miles being very long, we could not reach it till almost dark ; so that many of the people who had been waiting for me were returned home. The church being denied, I stood on a horse-block before the inn, and preached to those who were left behind ; but I could not speak with such freedom as usual ; for my body was weak, through the fatigue of the past day." At the close of this second short excursion into Wales, Whitefield exclaims, " Oh how swiftly this week has glided whitefield's life and times. 131 away ! To me, it has been but as one day. How do I pity those who complain that time hangs on their hands ! Let them but love Christ, and spend their whole time in his service, and they wall find but few melancholy hours." Dr. Gillies says that in these tours Howel Harris preached after Whitefield, in Welch. He does not mean, of course, in the churches ; and Whitefield does not mention any Welch ser- mons. Harris followed up, however, the labours of his new friend with great power. " I thank God for his goodness to brother Howel Harris. I thank you for informing me of it ; " says Whitefield in a letter written whilst he was on his way to America. In another, from Philadelphia, to Harris himself, he writes thus : " I congratulate you on your success at Mon- mouth. By divine permission, in about a twelvemonth, I hope to make a second use of your Jield pulpits. Our principles agree, as face answers to face in the water. Since I saw you, God has been pleased to enlighten me more in that comfortable doctrine of election. At my return, I hope to be more explicit than I have been. God forbid that we should shun to declare the whole counsel of God." " The people of Wales are much upon my heart. I long to hear how the gospel flourishes among you. How prospers your * inward man ? ' Being always doing — no doubt you grow in grace. May you increase with all the increase of God ! — As fast as I can, our Welch friends shall hear from me. — Salute them most affectionately in my name. Put them in mind of the freeness and eternity of God's electing love, and be instant with them to lay hold on the perfect righteousness of Christ by faith. — Talk to them, O talk to them, even till midnight, of the riches of His all-sufficient grace. Tell them, O tell them, what he has done for their souls, and how earnestly he is now interceding for them in heaven. Show them, in the viap of the word, the kingdoms of the upper world and the transcendent glories of them -, and assure them all shall be theirs, if they be- lieve on Jesus Christ with their whole heart. Press them to believe on Him immediately. Intersperse prayers with your exhortations, and thereby call down fire from heaven, even the fire of the Holy Ghost, K 2 132 whitefield's life and times. To soften, sweeten, and refine, And melt thenn into love ! Speak every time, my dear brother, as if it were your last ; — tveep out, if possible, every argument, and compel them to cry, ' Behold how he -loveth us.' Remember me — remember me in your prayers, as being ever, ever yours." Thus Whitefield fanned the " Welch fire" from time to time. In another letter, from Boston, he says, " And is dear brother Howel Harris yet alive in body and soul ? I rejoice in your success. May you mount with wings like eagles ! You shall not be taken nor hurt, till the appointed hour be come. I hope your conversation was blessed to dear Mr. Wesley. Oh that the Lord may batter down his free-will (scheme,) and compel him to own His sovereignty and everlasting love. God is working powerfully in America. He fills me with His presence. Grace, grace ! Dear bi'other H. — yours eternally." In another, from Philadelphia, he says, " Your letter, written nearly a twelvemonth ago, came to my hand this afternoon. My soul is knit to you. We both speak and think the same things. The Lord be with your spirit. — Jesus manifests forth his glory daily in these parts. His word is like a fire and a hammer. I^ast week I saw many quite struck down. America, ere long, will be famous for christians. Little did I think that I should preach in all the chief places of America ; but that is now done ! Glory be to rich, free, and sovereign grace, — The Lord vouchsafe to us a happy meeting. O Wales, thou art dear to my soul ! Expect another journal shortly. But wait till we come to glory, — fully to see and hear what God has done for your affectionate brother." When Whitefield returned to England, he continued to urge on Howel Harris to " abound in the work of the Lord," by every event that encouraged himself. " I want to see you face to face. I wish you could come up to London immediately, and stay whilst I am in the country. Or father — go and preach at Bristol, Gloucester, and Wiltshire, for about a fortnight, and then come up to London. — Our congregations are large and so- lemn. I never had greater freedom in preaching. I am glad whitefield's life and times. 133 brother Rowland is with you. Go on in the strength of our dear Lord, and you shall see Satan like lightning fall from heaven. May the Lord hide your precious soul under the shadow of his Almighty wings ! — You need not fear my believing any reports to your disadvantage. Cease not to pray for yours, eternally." In the same spirit, he wrote to him from Edinburgh, the mo- ment that the fire began to kindle in Scotland. " My very dear brother Harris, though my eyes be dim, and my body calls for rest, I would fain send you a line before I go (to rest). I hope God is beginning such a work here, as he is now carrying on in New England. Night and day, Jesus fills me with his love. — I have preached twice, and talked and walked much to day. — My dear man, good night ! " He did not conceal from his friend the results of his inter- views with the Associate Presbytery, nor his opinion of their spirit. " My heart is much united to you. I utterly disap- prove of some persons' separating principles. Satan now turns himself into an angel of light, and stirs up God's children to tempt me to come over to some particular party. The Asso- ciate Presbytery have been hard upon me : but I find no free- dom any longer than I continue just as I am, and evangelize to all. I know not that I differ from you in one thing. God is doing great things here ! — It would make your heart leap for joy, to be now in Edinburgh. I question if there be not up- wards of 300 in this city seeking after Jesus. Every morning, I have a constant levee — of wounded souls. I am quite amazed when I think what God hath done here in a fortnight. I am only afraid lest the people should idolize the instrument, and not look enough to the glorious Jesus, in whom alone I desire to glory. Congregations consist of many thousands. Never did I see so many Bibles, nor people look into them with such attention, when I am expounding. Plenty of tears flow from the hearers' eyes. The love of Christ quite strikes me dumb. O grace, grace ! Let that be my song. I must away (to preach)." As might be expected, Whitefield did not fail to appeal to Howel Harris from the vantage ground of Camhiislang. Along with a copy of his journal of that memorable awakening. 134 whitefield's life and times. he wrote thus : " The account sent with this will show you how often I have been enabled to preach ; but with what efficacy and success — pen cannot describe. The glorious Redeemer seems advancing from congregation to congregation, carrying all before him. The Messrs. Erskine's people have kept a fast for me ; and give out that all the work, now in Scotland, is only delusion, and by the agency of the devil. O my dear brother, to what lengths in bigotry and prejudice may good men run ! I bless God, I can see the differences between God's children, and yet love them from my heart. — What you say about poor Wales, affected me. I am sorry to hear there have been such divisions. But dividing times generally precede set- tling times. I should be glad to help the brethren in Wales My brother, my heart is full ! " Whitefield's letters on these subjects were not confined to Howcl Harris. Both from America and Scotland, he wrote to other Welch friends in the church and amongst the dissenters ; and thus spread the tidings of the revivals, and of their reaction. The following extract from a letter to a clergyman in Wales, is highly characteristic of Whitefield. " God is on my side — I will not fear what men nor devils say of, or do unto, me. The dear Erskines have dressed me in very black colours. Mr. Gibbs's pamphlet will show you how black. Dear men, I pity them. Writing, I fear, will be in vain. Oh for a mind divested of all sects, names, and parties. I think it is my one simple aim, to promote the kingdom of Jesus, without partiality or hypocrisy, indefinitely amongst all. I care not if the name of George Whitefield be banished out of the world, so that Jesus be ex- alted in it. Glory to His great name, we have seen much of his power and greatness in Scotland. Last sabbath and Mon- day, great things — greater than ever, were seen at Kilsyth ! I preach twice every day with great power, and walk in liberty and love. At the same time, I see and feel my vileness, — and take the blessed Jesus to be my righteousness and my all." To another clergyman in Wales, he wrote from Philadelphia thus : " When I first saw you at Cardiff, my heart rejoiced to hear what God had done for your soul. You were then under some displeasure from your rector (if I mistake not) for speak- whitefield's life and times. 135 ing the truth as it is in Jesus, Ere now I hope you have had the honour of being — quite thrust out. Rejoice, my dear bro- ther, and be exceeding glad; for thus was our Lord and Saviour served before you. Naked, therefore — follow a naked Christ. Freely you have received, freely give. If you preach the gos- pel, you shall live of the gospel. Though you go out without scrip or shoe, yet shall you lack nothing. Rather than you shall vv^ant, — ravens, those birds of prey, shall be commanded to feed you. If we go forth in the spirit of apostles, we shall meet with apostolical success. Stir up, then, the gift of God which is within you. Be instant in season and out of season. Debase man, and exalt Jesus. Self-righteousness overturn — overturn ! The people of Wales (at least the common people) will receive you gladly." Whitefield not only stirred up labourers thus, in Wales ; he also watched over their safety, when their labours brought them into trouble. Accordingly, when some of the fellowship meet- ings were indicted as conventicles, he appealed at once to the candour and justice of the bishop of Bangor. " I assure your Lordship, it is a critical time for Wales. Hundreds, if not thousands, will go in a body from the church, if such proceed- ings are countenanced. I lately wrote them a letter, dissuading them from separating from the church ; and I write thus freely to your Lordship, because of the excellent spirit of moderation discernible in your Lordship." Some of these details violate the order of time ; but they pre- serve what is better — a connected view of the impulses which Whitefield got and gave in Wales ; and will enable the reader to appreciate their influence upon future movements and events in the principality CHAPTER VII. WHITEFIELD IN AMERICA. When this continent was discovered by the English, it lay within the limits of that vast territory which the pope, although himself ignorant of its existence, conferred on Spain : — and, in these times, papal grants were " holy ground." Accordingly, Henry VII. was afraid to colonize it. Henry VIII. had not time. Edward VI. had not power. Queen Mary had not in- clination. Elizabeth had not spirit. She sanctioned, but never seconded, the attempt of Raleigh in Virginia. The credit of colonizing North America belongs to James I. He had before tried the experiment of colonial towns in the highlands of Scot- land, in order to improve the clans ; and although it did not answer all his expectations, it confirmed him in the policy of the system. Unhappily, his ecclesiastical policy was not equally wise. He derided and denounced the puritans and noncon- formists. And, alas, bishops ascribed this to inspiratiori ; and even Lord Bacon justified it ! Amongst many who fled from this tyranny to the continent, for refuge, was the congregational church of the great and good John Robinson. In 1609, they settled in Leyden, and remained for some years. But the unhealthy climate, and espe- cially the unhallowed sabbaths of the city, determined them to emigrate to America. This resolution was not adopted hastily, nor without much prayer. The exiles felt for their children ; and shrunk from the danger of their being absorbed in the mass, or assimilated to the morals, of a foreign nation. And, what gave irresistible effect to all their ordinary motives was, — they felt it to be their whitefield's life and times. 137 supreme duty to spread the gospel amongst the heathen, and to perpetuate the Scriptural system of christian churches. It is not to the credit of Dr. Robertson, that he withheld the fact of their missionary spirit. He says, with an ill-concealed sneer, " They began to be afraid that all their high attain- ments in spiritual knowledge would be lost ; and that the per- fect fabric of policy which they had erected would dissolve, and be consigned to oblivion, if they remained longer in a strange land." The historian understood the character of Charles V. ; but he was incapable of appreciating the character of John Robinson and his church, even although the Scotch martyrs furnished a clue to it. It requires, however, more than philo- sophical discrimination, to discern mental or moral greatness in the zeal of poor men for unpopular truth. The character of the first nonconformists must remain a mystery to mere phi- losophers, until the New Testament become " The Book of the Church." A brief sketch of the character and principles of the found- ers of the first American churches, will justify this remark. Now, that Hume, and writers of his stamp, should designate the Plymouth pilgrims, weak or wild fanatics, is only what might be expected. Nor is it at all surprising, that even Robertson should call them enthusiasts and Brownists. It is, however, a matter both of surprise and regret, that such an historian as Grahame should have called them Brownists, in the face of a solemn injunction which he himself transcribes, and in which Robinson disavows the name, as " a brand for making religion odious." Even Baylie, the bitter enemy of the first dissenters, declares that " Robinson was the principal overthrower of the Brownists, and became the father of independency." Hornius also distinguishes the independents from the Brownists, and calls them Robinsonians. Governor Winslow also, in his " Grounds of planting New England," says, that "the Brownists were settled in Amsterdam, and would hardly hold communion with the people of Leyden." Besides, there is a work of Robinson's, which bears the following title : " A Just and Ne- cessary Apology for certain Christians, no less contumeliously than commonly called Brownists or Barrowists." 138 whitkfield's life and times. The fact seems to be, — that Robinson had been, at first, a stricter dissenter than the generality of the nonconformists ; and, by publishing his " Justification of Separation from the Church of England," in answer to Bernard's " Separatists' Schism," which was chiefly directed against the Brownists, he thus subjected himself to the charge of being one of them. But both his spirit and his system were of a far higher order. He was, in the best sense of the name, an independent, or con- gregationalist. What he was as a scholar and a divine, may be judged from his masterly answer to Bernard, and from his signal triumph over the successor of Arminius at Leyden. The university of Leyden prevailed on Robinson to accept the challenge of Epis- copius ; and he silenced the impugner of Calvinism. In such estimation was he held at Leyden, that all the rank and talent of the city attended his funeral, and agreed to his interment in the chancel of their principal church. Such was the man who formed the sentiments and the cha- racter of the men who formed the first church in New Eng- land. He himself was prevented from joining them there, by the intrigues of a faction in the Virginian company in this country ; but his mantle and spirit were carried there by his elder and members. And nobly did they exemplify the princi- ples of their pastor ! What these principles were, is not matter of conjecture. As to faith, the pilgrims held the doctrinal articles of the reformed churches ; and, accordingly, admitted to communion in their own church the pious members_ of all protestant churches who chose to unite with them. This open communion, and unshackled freedom of conscience, were, however, peculiar to the independents. The puritans who colonized Massachusetts Bay, availed themselves, at first, of these privileges ; but they did not extend them so freely when they settled their own churches. Agreeably to the spirit of the church in which they were educated, they soon began to govern religion, instead of sub- mitting to be governed by it ; and thus practical intolerance was grafted upon speculative liberty, as slavery still is, on American whitefield's life and times. 139 republicanism. The puritans were much upbraided for this by the church of England, whilst her own offsets in the southern provinces of America could hardly subsist ; but, when they ob- tained a legal settlement, she soon fenced them by a sacra- mental test. Even-handed justice, however, has not yet been rendered to the American puritans. Both eulogy and censure are still too unqualified. Their errors were the universal errors of their age ; whereas their virtues were peculiar to themselves. God, indeed, " sifted three nations, that he might sow New England with the finest wheat." Magnalia. A sketch of the rise and progress of religion in America will illustrate this. Its origin, although of recent date, was coeval with the discovery of the rock of Plymouth. The pilgrims had formed themselves, by covenant, into a church and a state, even before they landed ; and thus Plymouth became a settle- ment and a sanctuary on the same day. The voice of praise and prayer first awoke the echoes of its forests ; and before a tree was cut for fuel, or climbed for food, tears of gratitude had anointed the rock as an Ebenezer. Webster, a member of congress, has depicted this scene with great power and pathos. " The morning that beamed on the first night of their repose, saw the pilgrims already established in their country. There were political institutions, and civil liberty, and religious worship. " Poetry has fancied nothing in the wanderings of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man, indeed, unprotect- ed, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fearful wil- derness ; but it was politic, intelligent, and educated man. Every thing was civilized but the physical world. Institutions, containing in substance all that ages had done for human government, were established in a forest. Cultivated mind was to act on uncultivated nature ; and, more than all, a government and a country were to commence, with the very first foundations laid under the divine light of the christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity ! Who could wish that his coun- try's existence had otherwise begun ? Who would desire to go back to the ages of fable ? Who would wish for an origin ob- 140 whitefield's life and times. scured in the darkness of antiquity ? Who would wish for other emblazoning of his country's heraldry, or other ornaments of her genealogy, than to be able to say, that her first existence was with intelligence ; her first breath, the inspiration of liberty ; her first principle, the truth of divine religion ? " In a similar spirit, Whelpley, of New York, says, " On the day they felt the firm earth, for weal or for woe, they adopted it as their country ; they looked off to the surrounding hills and snow-clad ranges, and felt that these must henceforth be their horizon ; they surveyed the deep and frowning forest, with its savage tenantry, and resolved to subdue and make it the abode of pure religion ; they looked along the far-sounding shore, and resolved to explore its depths and islands, and point out to their children the places of cities, and the marts of commerce ; they looked up to the broad heavens, where dwelt their covenant God, and, in prayer, resolved to build Him a house for his wor- ship, wherever under these heavens, like Jacob, they rested on their pilgrimage." Vivid and touching as these pictures are, they are, perhaps, surpassed, as to effect, by the simple journals of the pilgrims themselves ; from which Prince drew the materials, and, in a great measure, the language, of his " Annals ;" — a book almost unknown now in this country. " 1620. Dec. 20. This morning, after calling on Heaven for guidance, they go ashore again, to pitch on some place for im- mediate settlement. After viewing the country, they conclude to settle on the main, on a high ground facing the bay ; a sweet brook running under the hill, with many delicate springs. On a great hill they intend to fortify, which will command all round ; whence they may see across from the bay to Cape Cod. And here, being twenty in number, they rendezvous this even- ing ; but a storm rising, it blows and rains hard all night ; con- tinues so tempestuous for two days, that they cannot get aboard, and have nothing to shelter them. " 21st. Dies Richard Bretterige, the first who dies in this harbour. " 23d. As many go ashore as can .; cut and carry timber for a common building. whitefield's life and times. 141 " 24tli. Lord's day. Our people ashore are alarmed with the cry of savages ; expect an assault, but continue quiet. And this day, dies Solomon Martin, the sixth and last who dies this month. " 25th. Monday. They go ashore again, felling timber, sawing, riving, carrying. Begin to erect their first house, about twenty foot square, for their common use, to receive them and their goods. Leaving twenty to keep a court of guard, the rest return aboard at evening. But in the night and next day, another sore storm of Avind and rain. " 28th. Thursday. They go to work on the hill ; reduce themselves to nineteen families ; measure out their lots, and draw for them. Many grow ill of grievous colds, from the great and many hardships they had endured. They see great smokes of fires made by Indians, about six or seven miles off. " 3Ist. Lord's day. The generality remain aboard the ship, almost a mile and a half oiF. Some keep the sabbath, for the first time, in the place of their building. " 1621. Jan. 9th. We labour in building our town in two rows of houses for greater safety : divide by lot the ground we build on : agree that every man builds his own house, that they may make more haste. " 13th. Saturday. Having the major part of our people ashore, we purpose there to keep the public worship to-morrow. " 14th. Lord's day morning at six o'clock, the wind being very high, we, on shipboard, see our rendezvous in flames, and fear the savages had fired it ; nor can we come to help, for want of the tide, till seven o'clock : at landing, find that the house was fired by a spark in the thatch." " 31st. The people aboard see two savages, but cannot come to speak with them. " Feb. 9th. This afternoon our house for sick people is set on fire by a spark lighting on the roof. " About this time the Indians get all the pawaws (magicians) of the country together for three days, in a horrid and devilish manner to curse and execrate us with their conjurations : which assembly they hold in a dark and dismal swamp." Such was their first winter ; and, before the return of spring. 142 whitefield's life and times. disease or famine had swept off one half of them. The sur- vivors, too, instead of being able to devote themselves to plant- ing and building, had to spend the greater part of their time in defending their persons and property from the savages. Still, the pilgrims neither repented nor repined. " Spring," they say, "^ puts new life into us." ''All the summer, no want. We Jit our houses against winter; are in health, and have all things in plentg." Princess Annals. At this time, they had no minister. Mr. Brewster, the elder of the church, conducted their worship, until Mr. Robinson should be able to join them. But, whilst they were looking and longing for his arrival, a faction in the Plymouth company at home were intriguing to prevent him from leaving Leyden. This faction seem to have had for their object the introduction of episcopal forms into the worship of the colony. Accordingly, in 1624, they sent out, as their tool, Lyford, a minister who had lost his character in Ireland. On his arrival, the pilgrims say, " He appears exceedingly complaisant and humble ; sheds many tears ; blesses God, that had brought him to see our faces. We give hhn the best entertainment we can. We make him larger allowance than any others. At his desire, we receive him into our church ; when he blesses God for the opportunity and freedom of enjoying his ordinances in purity." That purity Lyford soon tampered with. He insisted upon administering the sacrament in the episcopal form, and on using the liturgy. Nor was this the worst part of his conduct. He caballed with some unprincipled adventurers, who had come out, to betray the colony, and usurp its government. The plot was, however, de- tected. The governor pursued the ship which brought Lyford out, and arrested his letters. On his return, the governor sum- moned a general court, and charged Lyford and his party with the plot. They denied it. He then produced Lyford's letters, and confounded the traitors before all the assembly. Incredible as it may seem, such was the leniency of the court, that Lyford was even restored to his office, upon a profession of repentance, " made with tears," before the church. But these tears, like the former, were hypocritical ; for, in less than a month, he wrote another letter to betray the government ; and whitefield's life and times. 143 was detected again. Cotton Mather says of Lyford, " On this he was banished from the plantation, and went into Virginia, where he shortly after ended his own life." Soon after this, the pilgrims say, " We hear sad news ; our dear pastor, Mr. liobinson, is dead; which strikes us ivitli great sorrotc. Tliese things could not hut cast us into great perplexity ; yet, being stript of all human hopes and help, tvhen we are now at the lowest, the Lord so helps us, as that tee are not only upheld, hut begin to rise." This " rise " was not, however, great nor rapid; for, at the end of ten years, the population of Plymouth was only three hundred persons. Such was the rise of religion in America. Its progress, at this early period, was, of course, by the accession of pious set- tlers from Europe, and by the influence of the first churches upon the worldly settlers. In the former case, the progress was great. Charles I. was then upon the throne, and Laud behind it ; and their well-known measures compelled the puritans and nonconformists to choose between exile and chains. Many of them preferred the former. Aware of this, the Rev. Mr. White of Dorchester organized a colony for Massachusetts Bay, which obtained a royal charter. Neale, by a strange mistake, says, that " free liberty of conscience was granted by this charter." An improbable gift, from the iron hand of Charles ! The deed itself contains no permission of the kind. Such as it was, how- ever, it soon drew into the colony eighteen hundred persons ; many of whom were wealthy, and most of them respectable. Several eminent ministers also accompanied them. These emi- grants laid the foundations of Boston, Charlestown, Dorchester, and other towns ; in each of which a church was formed. And such was their prosperity and peace, that crowds continued to pour into the country. Whilst this influx was proceeding, the small-pox broke out amongst the Indians, and swept off" such multitudes, that whole tribes were annihilated. Providence, by thus evacuating the country, was supposed to indicate his appropriation of it to the English. The vacated space proved, however, a temptation ; because its best districts being far asunder, they drew the set- tlers too far off" from each other. It was, however, this dispersion 144 whitefield's life and times. that led to the adoption of a representative system of govern- ment in New England. It cannot surprise any one to hear that, amongst so many emigrants, so suddenly thrown together, and all passing at once from hondage to full liberty of conscience, there should have been some differences of religious opinion. There were, how- ever, far fewer than could be expected ; and these were confined, in every instance, to very few persons. The celebrated Roger Williams was the chief disturber of the harmony of the infant churches ; but, with all his singularities, he was a noble-minded and right-hearted man. He understood religious liberty better than the puritans ; and, to his spirit and firmness in resisting the jurisdiction of magistrates in religion, New England is chiefly indebted for her charter of conscience. Whilst the Massachusetts' colony was thus advancing, similar motives and causes led to the settlement of Connecticut and Newhaven ; in both of which the Scriptures were adopted as the sole code of law and religion. A colony was also planted in New Hampshire and Main ; but by men of another spirit. It made no progress for some years, until it came under the jurisdiction of the Massachusetts' colony. Indeed, all the colo- nies, about this time, retrograded during a disastrous war with the Indians. Charles had also forbidden further emigration from England, without permission. He had even decided on taking away the Massachusetts' charter, and on remodelling the government agreeably to his own mind. The meeting of the long parliament, however, furnished him with other work. But, whilst this event saved their charter at the time, it likewise put a stop to emigration ; there being then no intolerable pressure upon conscience. Whilst that pressure lasted, however, two hundred thousand British subjects had settled in New England; and £200,000 had been expended upon it : "a sum," says Ro- bertson, " which no principles, inferior in force to those where- with the puritans were animated, could have persuaded men to lay out on the uncertain prospect of finding subsistence and enjoying freedom." During the Protectorate, although no great accession was made to the population of New England, great favour was shown whitefield's life and times. 145 to the colonies ; or rather, they were allowed to take great liberties beyond their charter. They formed the confederacy of the States, and struck a coinage of their own. Whether these steps were approved, or overlooked amidst the crowd of nearer events, is not known. Cromwell, however, formed a plan for the colonists, which, happily, was plausible only to himself. When he had conquered Jamaica, he offered to transport to it the churches of New England, that they might resist popery in the centre of the new world. In this enterprise, so characteristic of its author, Cromwell pledged himself to support them with the whole weight of his authority and influence. They had, however, the wisdom to decline his proposals, without incurring his displeasure. About this time, a better direction was given to their zeal, and new energy infused into their Indian missions, by the spirit with which parliament incorporated the Society for propagating the Gospel in New England ; and, especially, by the success of Eliot. No great accession of numbers or strength was made to the infant churches, however, until the restoration of Charles II. restored the old system at home. Then the Act of Uniformity threw into their arms another large group of pilgrims, in " the spirit and power " of the Plymouth fathers. They knew, also, how to avail themselves of the crisis created by the Bartholo- mew bushel at home ; and promptly invited some of the brightest stars which it had covered, to " arise and shine " in the western hemisphere. And many of them obeyed the summons. Even Dr. Owen was likely to have accepted a call to be pastor of the first church in Boston, had not the king laid an embargo upon him. However much, therefore, we may deplore the Act of Unifor- mity, it became the axe which cut down the principle of unifor- mity in this country. What the cause of religious liberty lost here for a time, it more than regained in America. When these victims of the Act of Uniformity arrived in Ame- rica, there were forty flourishing churches in New England. The emigrants, however, had hardly time to become incorpo- rated with them, or to taste the cup of their sweet fellowship, when the fatal Indian war broke out. And such were its ra- L 146 WniTEFIELu's LIFE AND TIMES. vageSj that nearly six hundred men, who were the strength both of the churches and of the colony, were cut off. And even this overwhelming loss was aggravated by a succession of harassing measures from home, which almost ruined the trade of the colony, until the Revolution. The Revolution in England forms an epoch in the ecclesias- tical, as well as the civil, history of America. From that time, the churches of New England began to provide for the spiritual Avants of the southern provinces ; and thus stirred up the bishop of London to send a commissary into Maryland, who obtained an act of the provincial legislature for a legal establishment of episcopacy there. There was, however, at this time, a blot upon the character of New England, which, if it had not been copied from Old England, would call for severe animadversion. The imputation of witchcraft was accompanied by the prevalent belief of its reality ; and the lives of many weak persons were sacrificed to a blind zeal and a superstitious credulity. Still, more persons have been put to death for witchcraft in a single county of England, than all who suffered in America. Besides, the chief judge, Sewall,with more wisdom than our Hale, confessed, soon after, the sin of these sentences, in a penitential paper, which he gave in to his minister to be read publicly, on a fast day. His diary also deplores and condemns them. Nothing very memorable occurs in the history of religion, from this time, until the revival at Northampton ; except its steady progress amongst some of the Indian tribes, and the noble, though abortive, effort of Berkley to provide for them all, by his projected college at Bermuda. The remarkable revival of religion under the ministry of Jonathan Edwards, was as timely as it was signal. He himself, in narrating it, has said as little as possible of the long and deep decay of vital godliness, which preceded it. That sad decay has, however, but too many vouchers. " It began to appear," says Prince, " in 1660 : in 1670, it was visible and threatening : in 1680, it was bewailed bitterly by the few of the first gener- ation who remained." Governor Stoughton, in a sermon which he preached at Bos- v/hitefield's life and times, 147 ton, before he resigned the pulpit for the bench, proclaimed it in the presence of the ministry and the magistracy, that, since the death of the Massachusetts' fathers, many had become like Joash after the death of Jehoiada, rotten, hypocritical — and a lie ! In 1683, the venerable Torrey, of Weymouth, also preach- ed a sermon before the legislature, and which he entitled " A Plea for the Life of dying Religion." " There is," says he, " already a great death upon religion ; little more left than a name to live. It is dying as to the being of it, by the general failure of the work oi coni^ersion." In 1700, Mather published his " Vindication of the Order of the Gospel in New England ;" in which he solemnly affirms, " that if the begun apostasy should proceed as fast the next thirty years, as it has done these last, it will come to that in Nev/ England, (except the gospel itself depart with the order of it,) that churches must be gather ed out of churches." President Willard, also, (the eloquent de- nouncer of the prosecutions for witchcraft,) published in the same year his searching sermon, " The Perils of the Times dis- played." " Whence," he asks, " is there such a prevalency of so many immoralities amongst professors ? Why so little suc- cess of the gospel ? How few thorough conversions to be ob- served ; how scarce and seldom ! " " It hath been," he adds, " a frequent observation, that if one generation begins to de- cline, the next that follows usually groM^ s worse ; and so on, until God pours out his Spirit again upon them." Such was the melancholy state of things which followed the death of the first puritans and nonconformists in New England. The second generation grew up, not indeed in ignorance nor in avowed unbelief, but in a heartless formality which, itself, re- laxed more and more, as their fathers went down to the grave. Nor was this falling oiF confined to the large towns. It took place even in such remote and obscure towns as Northampton. There, after the death of the celebrated Stoddard, who had, during his ministry, five signal revivals, or, as he called them, " five harvests," an extraordinary deadness in religion crept in. Politics divided the people, and pleasure absorbed the young. Family discipline was generally neglected, and licentiousness 148 whitefield's life and times, rapidly spreading. The sabbath evening became the chief sea- son of mirth and dissipation. This last circumstance led Edwards to preach a very solemn sermon on the subject ; not, however, that he held the evening of the Lord's day sacred. They began their sabbath on the Saturday evening, and closed it with the afternoon of Sunday. It was, therefore, the " evil tendency " of passing from the sanc- tuary to the tavern and the dancing green, that led him to re- monstrate. He saw how the custom was defeating all his own labours, and defying parental authority to check it ; and he singled it out, and threw all his soul into the assault against it. He had also planned with the better disposed parents of his flock, to take private measures for suppressing the evil. But such was the effect of the sermon on the young themselves, that they anticipated the wish both of their parents and pastor, and abandoned at once and entirely their amusements on the sabbath evening. This was the first step towards the great revival at North- ampton. Edwards then persuaded the young people to spend these evenings in little meetings for social prayer and reading. In this also he succeeded. These meetings began too at a time, when some sudden and awful deaths had made a deep and solemn impression in the town. But still, he seems to have expected nothing extraordinary to evolve from these symptoms. The Arminian controversy was raging around him at the time, and he, in common with his pious friends, was more afraid of its influence, than encouraged by these " tokens for good." Indeed, Edwards, instead of expecting or attempting to pro- duce a signal revival of religion, seems to have thought only of defending its great foundations. He began to preach boldly the sovereignty and freeness of grace, more with a view to keep error out of his church, than with the hope of " winning souls " by the truth. Accordingly he himself was as much, if not more surprised than any one, when the great awakening began. He, however, preached the truth from love to it, and not for victory ; and the Eternal Spirit wrought mightily by it. This series of simple facts has been too much overlooked in various accounts of " The work of God in Northampton." It whitefield's life and times. 149 was in nowise " got up," on the part of Edwards, as its enemies have insinuated ; nor was it so separated from rational means, as some of its rash friends pretended. It certainly well de- serves to be called wonderful — even miraculous, because the same truth had never triumphed so gloriously in America be- fore ; but the means which the Spirit thus blessed, were as na- tural and orderly as philosophy herself could select or arrange, whilst she kept the Bible open. Accordingly Dr. Watts and Dr. Guyse did not hesitate to call it " The renewal of the mira- cle of Gideon's Jleece." The chief characteristics of this work, at its commence- ment, were, — a melting down of all classes and ages in over- whelming solicitude about salvation ; an absorbing sense of eternal realities, which banished all vain and useless conversa- tion ; a self-abasement and self-condemnation, which acquitted God of all severity, whatever he might do ; a spirit of secret and social prayer, which redeemed time for itself under all cir- cumstances ; and a concern for the souls of others, which watched for all opportunities of doing good. It can only sur- prise sciolists, that this awakening, so sudden and solemn, should have agitated the body, whilst thus agonizing the mind. It produced in many instances loud outcries, and in some in- stances convulsions. The loudest cries were not, however, so loud as the shrieks of Voltaire or Volney, when the prospect of eternity unmanned them. What Edwards said of those who, in his time, resolved the physical effect into mental delusion, may be applied to all who echo their opinion, " I question if they would behave themselves letter, if they' were equally sensible of their guilt and danger, as sinners." Not that Ed- wards was the advocate of these things ; but he was too good a philosopher to consider them incompatible with sense or sin- cerity ; and too honest, to allow them to be called " a distem- per caught from Whitefield and Tennent," as some insinuated. He candidly acknowledges they had appeared before White- field arrived. Indeed, they did not appear under his minis- try at all. "But, what is the chaff to the wheat, saitli the Lord?"" Whatever were the accidental extravagances which marked this 150 whitefield's life and times. v/ork at any period of its progress, its permanent results were " Holiness to the Lord." Perhaps a better proof of the substantial character of these conversions cannot be given, than the single fact that most of them stood the severe test of Edwards's " Treatise on Religious Affections :" a work which, if as generally read here as it was there, would tempt a large portion of our acknowledged con- verts to unchristianize themselves. There was noise in the new stream of religious feeling, which broke out at Northamp- ton ; and noisy streams are said to be shallow ; but this one must have been an exception to the proverb, seeing it sustained that weighty book upon its bosom. Besides, whoever will duly examine Edwards's " Narrative," will find, to his surprise and pleasure, all the usual varieties of experience, which show themselves in our own churches, in the succession of single converts. He was honoured to gather at once, what we collect slowly. But with this exception, and its natural consequences, the history of any hundred of true con- verts, won at wide intervals, will present almost all the varieties of case, which were crowded into the first year of the revival. Wide and great as this revival was, however, it did not pene- trate New England at large, until Whitefield and Tennent spread it. In many leading places the necessity, or the genuine- ness of such a work was doubted and denied. The churches, in general, were still in a Sardian or Laodicean state. Dr. Holmes says, in his " American Annals," that " the zeal which had characterized the churches in New England at an earlier period, had, previous to Whitefield's arrival, subsided, and a calm, perhaps lethargic, state ensued. The discourses from the desk, though evangelical, were not impassioned." Shurtleff, of New Hampshire, in his defence of Whitefield, says of the state of the churches at this time, " No serious christian could behold it without a heavy heart, and scarce without a weeping eye ; to see the solid, substantial piety, for which our ancestors were justly renowned, having long languished under sore decays, brought so low, and seemingly just ready to give up the ghost." Edwards says of the colleges, " It certainly has sometimes been so with our colleges that, instead of being whitefield's Life and times. 151 places of the greatest advantage for true piety, one cannot send a child thither, without great danger of his being infected as to his morals." Dr. Chauncy denies this charge, in unquali- fied terms ; but when he proceeds to disprove it, the only argument he adduces is, that, during twenty years, he had never known Harvard College " under better circumstances, in point of religion, good order, and learning, than at this day." What it really was, may, perhaps, be gathered from the fact, that Whitefield in his Letter to the students, when they became serious, says, " It was no small grief to me, that I was obliged to say of your college, that ' your light was darkness;^ yet are ye now become light in the Lord. Now we may expect a reformation indeed, since it is beginning at the house of God." In regard to the general state of the churches, even Dr. Chauncy cannot effectually conceal the low ebb of spiritual reli- gion at this time. In spite of all his special pleading, it betrays itself throughout the whole series of his " Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New England." At the close of that strange book he acknowledges, " that disorderly walkers have been suffered to take their course, without the administra- tion of those censures which are proper to the kingdom of Jesus Christ. Have they not been left to themselves to act as they please, without public notice, any more than if they sustained no relation to the church of God ? " It is equally painful to review or record these melancholy facts. It is, however, necessary to do both, in order to form a just estimate of the spirit, the character, and effects, of White- field's preaching in New England. He went there, not to spy out the nakedness of the land, nor to search for declensions ; but to be " refreshed amongst the descendants of the good old puritans." It was, therefore, with as much surprise as regret, that he found " the fine gold" of puritanism " dim." Indeed, it was not until Dr. Chauncy and others began to caricature the revivals, that Whitefield began to suspect the spirituality of the ministry. His correspondence with Dr. Colman and Mr. Cooper of Boston, and his recorded memorials of all the devoted minis- ters he met with, prove that he was inclined, and even solicitous, to be pleased with New England, 152 whitefield's life and times, Whitefield had, however, seen enough, in Philadelphia, to convince him, that both the matter and spirit of his preaching in England were equally wanted in America. He accordingly wielded in New York and Boston all the spiritual and splendid weapons which he had employed at London and Bristol. The effect at Boston was amazing. Old Mr. Walter, the successor of Eliot, the apostle of the Indians, said, " It was puritanism revived." Such was the interest excited by his preaching, that his farewell sermon was attended by 20,000 persons. And, during his visit, it was testified by the first authorities in the city, that many of the careless were awakened, and more of the lukewarm quickened. " Such a power and presence of God with a preacher, and in religious assemblies," says Dr. Colman, " I never saw before." " Every day gives me fresh proofs of Christ speaking in him. A small set of gentlemen amongst us, when they saw the affections of the people so moved under his preaching, would attribute it only to the force of sound and ges- tures. But the impressions on many were so lasting, and have been so transforming, as to carry plain signatures of a divine hand going along with him." All this was, if possible, exceed- ed at Northampton, when Whitefield visited Jonathan Edwards, and reminded his people of " the days of old." " It was," says Gillies, " like putting fire to tinder." Similar success attended his ministry in the town and college of Newhaven. In the lat- ter, it overthrew the self-righteousness of the celebrated Hop- kins, and fanned into a flame the zeal of DxWid Brainerd — a name that needs no epithet. In like manner, at Harvard College the effect was great. The honourable Secretary Willard says, in a letter to White- field, " That which forebodes the most lasting advantage is, the new state of things in the college, where the impressions of reli- gion have been, and still are, very general ; and many, in a judgment of charity, brought home to Christ. Divers gentle- men's sons, that were sent there only for a more polite educa- tion, are now so full of zeal for the cause of Christ, and of love to souls, as to devote themselves entirely to the studies of divinity." Dr. Colman also informed Whitefield of this fact. " At Cambridge, the college is entirely changed ; the students whitefield's life and times. 153 are full of God, and will, I hope, come out blessings in their generation ; and, I trust, are so now to each other. Many of them are now, we think, truly Lorn again, and several of them haj^py instruments of conversion to their fellows. The voice of prayer and praise fills their chambers ; and sincerity, fervency, and joy, with seriousness of heart, sit visibly on their faces. I was told yesterday, that not seven of a hundred remain unaf- fected. I know how the good tidings will affect you, God give you like joy every where in the fruit of your labours." Thus Whitefield was then to the churches and colleges, what Wash- ington was afterwards to the states. Such were the results of his first visit to New England, And it deserves special notice that they were accompanied with none of the extravagances which marked the revival soon after. Much has been written on the subject of the subsequent effects of this mighty impulse ; but, after deliberately weighing the works on both sides, I am fully persuaded that Whitefield himself has given the most judicious view of the whole matter. On his return to Boston, in 1745, he writes thus : " Some oc- casions of offence had, undoubtedly, been given whilst I was here, (before,) and preached up and down the country. No- thing, however, appeared but a pure divine power, working upon, converting, and transforming people's hearts, of all ranks, — without any extraordinary phenomena attending it. Good Mr. Tennent succeeded me : numbers succeeded him. Lecture upon lecture was set up in various places. One minis- ter called to another to help to drag the gospel net. And, by all the accounts I can have from private information, or good Mr. Prince's weekly history, one would have imagined the mil- lennium was coming indeed. But in this mixed state of things, wildfire will necessarily blend itself with the pure fire that comes from God's altar. This the enemy long waited for. At last, it broke out and spread itself. And, it must be confess- ed, by the instrumentality of many good souls, both among clergy and laity ; who, mistaking fancy for faith, and ima- gination for revelation, were guilty of great imprudence. All is laid to me, as being the prlmum mobile ; though there was not so much as the appearance of any thing of this nature, when 154 WHITEFiELD's LIFE AND TIMES, I left New England last. But, maugre all, my poor labours are yet attended with the usual blessings," That Whitefield has fairly characterized the Jirst aspect of this work, will be seen from the following public testimony, by three of the principal ministers in Boston ; Prince, Webb, Cooper. It came out the year after his first visit. " The wondrous work of God, at this day, making its tri- umphant progress through the land, has forced many men of clear minds, strong powers, considerable knowledge, and firmly rivetted in Armiuian and Socinian tenets, to give them all up at once, and yield to the adorable sovereignty and irresistibi- lity of the divine Spirit, in his saving operations on the souls of men. For, to see such men as these, some of them of licentious lives, long inured in a course of vices, and of high spirits, coming to the preaching of the word ; some only out of curiosity, and mere design to get matter of cavilling and banter ; all at once, in opposition to their inward enmity, resolutions, and resistances, to fall under an unexpected and hated power ; to have all the strength of their resolution and resistance taken away ; to have such inward views of the horrid wickedness, not only of their lives but of their hearts, with their exceeding great and immediate danger of eternal misery, as has amazed their souls, and thrown them into distress unutterable, yea, forced them to cry out in the assemblies with the greatest agonies : and then, in two or three days, and sometimes sooner, to have such unexpected and raised views of the infinite grace and love of God in Christ, as have enabled them to believe in him ; lifted them at once out of their distresses ; filled their hearts with admiration ; and joy unspeakable and full of glory breaking forth in their shining countenances and transporting voices, to the surprise of those about them : — and to see them kindling up at once, into a flame of love to God, an utter detestation of their former courses and vicious habits ; yea, by such a detestation, that the very power of these habits receive at once a mortal wound : in short, to see their high spirits, on a sudden, humbled ; their hard hearts made tender ; their aversion to the Holy Ghost, now turned into a powerful and prevailing bent to contemplate Him as revealed in Christ ; to labour to be like Him in holi- whitefield's life and times. 155 ness; to please and honour him by a universal and glad con- formity to his will and nature ; and to promote his holy king- dom in all about them — loving them, forgiving them, asking forgiveness of them ; abounding in acts of justice and charity, in a meek and condescending carriage towards the meanest, and aspiring after higher sanctity. " And to see other gentlemen, of the like parts, knowledge, and principles ; and of sober, just, and religious lives, as far as mere reason, with outward revelation, is able to carry them ; and prepossessed against this work as imagined enthusiasm ; yet, at once, surprised to find themselves entirely destitute of that inward sanctity, and supreme love to God, which the gos- pel teaches as absolutely needful ; to find themselves no more than conceited Pharisees, who had been working out a righteous- ness for their own justification ; and to have a clear discovery of their inward enmity to Christ, and to the nature and way of redemption by him ; with the vileness of their hearts and lives, which they had never seen before : in short, to find themselves yet unrenewed in the spirit of their minds, and under the heavy wrath and curse of God ; to lose all their former confidence ; give up their beloved schemes ; to see themselves undone and helpless, and sink into great distress : and then, condemning themselves as guilty wretches, humbly lying at the foot of abso- lute and sovereign grace, looking up to Christ, as the only Me- diator, to reconcile them to God, to justify them wholly by his own righteousness, and to enlighten, sanctify, and govern them by his Holy Spirit ; and there to wait, till they find a new and mighty life and power come into their souls, enabling them to embrace, trust in, and love this divine Redeemer ; rejoice with satisfaction in him ; and perform every kind of duty, both to God and man, with pleasure, and with quite another spirit than before." Whilst such were the moral effects of this American Pente- cost, well might the eloquent Parsons, of Byfield, say to the mockers and opposers, " Whilst you stand amazed at the rings of the wheel, as things too high and dreadful for you ; whilst you know not what to make of the effusions of the Holy Spirit, but are stumbling at every thing amiss ; beware, lest that come upon 156 whitefield's life and times. you, which is spoken of hy the prophets, ' Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish.' Dear, immortal souls ! I beseech and persuade you, by the mercies of God, and the astonishing love of the Lord Jesus Christ, that you would not sacrifice the oper- ations of the blessed Spirit to your own prejudice, by means of our imperfections." When Whitefield saw the first-fruits of this harvest, he wisely pressed into the field, as his successor, Gilbert Tennent. The American Biographical Dictionary says of Tennent, "He was born in Ireland, and brought to this country by his father ; by whom also he was educated for the ministry. As a preacher, he was, in his vigorous days, equalled by but few. His reason- ing powers were strong ; his language forcible and often sublime ; and his manner of address warm and earnest. His eloquence was, however, rather bold and awful than soft and persuasive. He was most pungent in his addresses to the conscience. When he wished to alarm the sinner, he could represent in the most awful manner the terrors of the Lord. With admirable dex- terity he exposed the false hope of the hypocrite, and searched the corrupt heart to the bottom." Such was the man whom Whitefield chose to take his place in the American valley of vision, when the " dry bones " began to shake. And he entered on his new sphere with almost rustic simplicity ; wearing his hair undressed, and a large great coat girt with a leathern gir- dle. But his " lofty stature and grave aspect dignified " the whole. He had been remarkably useful in his former station in New Jersey ; and now, in New England, his ministry was hardly less successful than Whitefield's had been. Much of the happy change which we have just reviewed, is ascribed by Whitefield himself to the instrumentality of Tennent. He actually shook the country, as with an earthquake. Wherever he came, hypocrisy and pharisaism either fell before him, or gnashed their teeth against him. Cold orthodoxy also started from her downy cushion to imitate or to denounce him. For, like Elijah on Carmel, he made neutrality an impossibility. Accordingly, the attack upon him soon began, in the true spirit of mortified pride, by arraigning his motives. It commenced in the Boston newspaper, in the form of a letter ; — of which Dr. whitefield's life and times. 157 Chauncy, who was then the American Sacheverell, was, no doubt, the author. At least, he has made it his own, by repub- lishing it, without note or comment. " Pray, Sir, let me put it to your conscience ; was not the reason of your travelling so many miles (300) to preach the gospel in this place, founded on the insufficiency of the ministers here for their office ? Had you not some suspicion, that they were not converted ? Perhaps you only thought that you might do a deal more good ? Is not this too near to vanity ? " This is a specimen of the letter to Ten- nent ; and, in the same spirit, Chauncy assailed the character and motives of Whitefield, and criticized the " Narrative and Vindication of the Work of God," by Edwards. By his own confession, he travelled farther to collect the materials of his book against, what he called, " the new light," than Tennent did to guard that light. The book itself was answered by vari- ous writers ; but the best reproof it called forth, was adminis- tered by a venerable lady, who had been converted under the ministry of Flavel. " New light ! " she exclaimed ; " it may be new to such as never saw it before ; but it is what I saw fifty years ago, from good Mr. Flavel." Chauncy's principal charge against Whitefield is, — " that he seldom preached without saying something against unconverted ministers." " The first error I would take notice of," he says, " is that which supposes ministers, if not converted, incapable of being instruments of spiritual good to men's souls. Mr. White- field very freely vented this error. He said, the reason why congregations have been so dead, is, because they have dead men preaching to them." " But conversion," says Chauncy, " does not appear to be alike necessary for ministers, in their 2^ublic capacity as officers of the church, as it is in their private ca- pacity." If this was untenable ground, the Doctor was still more unfortunate, when he attempted to vindicate his brethren by quoting from Cotton Mather. Mather says, " No man be- comes a minister, or a communicant, in our churches, until he hath been severely examined about his regeiteration, as well as conversation." Backus, in his " History of the American Bap- tists," answers this appeal in a few words. " When was it so ? This testimony was given in 1696. How does it prove that their practice remained the sitme in 1740 ?" 158 vvhitefield's life and times. These animadversions upon the conduct and writings of Dr. Chauncy are necessary, because his influence was great, and eventually beneficial. For, whilst his work on " The State of Religion," is contemptible in many respects, and especially in all that regards Wliitefield and Tennent, it is invaluable as an antidote to the extravagances of conduct and sentiment which, in seasons of high and general excitement, the weak and the igno- rant are so prone to fall into. It is only bare justice to make this acknowledgment; for Dr. Chauncy has embodied in the work the best sentiments of our best divines, upon the subject of the operations and fruits of the Holy Spirit. And these well- selected extracts are such an antidote to his own poison, that they could not have failed to correct the rashness and folly of others. It was, however, the poison which operated first. The repre- sentations of the party, of which the Doctor was the champion, produced edicts of synod and assembly, which made the Say- brook platform all but a scaffold. Ministers who should preach out of their own parishes without permission, were sul)ject to be treated as " vagrants," and to be " banished from the co- lony ;" and if they returned, to " pay the expenses of their transportation ; besides being imprisoned until they should give a bond of £100, not to offend again." Backus. The full force of these sad measures was confined chiefly to Connecticut : and there Dr. Finlay, the successor of President Davies, was thus treated. Such was the state of things in New England, on Whitefield's second visit. But neither the acts of assembly, nor the example of the leading ministers, could prevent the people from welcom- ing him with acclamation. They voted him into some of the churches, which would otherwise have been shut against him ; and prevailed on him to preach early in the morning, as he had done in Scotland. These morning lectures were soon so popu- lar, that it became proverbial in Boston, that, between early rising to hear Whitefield, and the use of tar-water, \he physicians would have no practice. During this visit, he made an exten- sive tour in New England, with great success. At the close of it, he says in his journal, " We saw great things. The flock- ing and power that attended the word, was like unto that seven whitefield's life and times. 159 years ago. Weak as I was and have been, I was enabled to travel eleven hundred miles, and to preach daily. I am now going to Georgia to winter." This preliminary sketch of American ecclesiastical history, although it anticipates not a few of Whitefield's movements in the western world, will enable the reader to appreciate both their wisdom and necessity, when they are recorded at length, and in their order, from his journals. The question. Why did Whitefield go to America in the first instance ? has never been satisfactorily answered. I have re- corded, in his early life, some of his views and feelings on the subject, without attempting to account for them, or to explain them. They are remarkable. He uniformly speaks of his object as " a great work ;" and represents himself as "a strip- ling going forth like David against Goliath." He prays most fervently for " such a deep humility, well-guided zeal, and burn- ing love," as should enable him to defy " men and devils," even if they did " their worst." Now all this is rather too much to be applied exclusively to the claims of an infant colony ; except, indeed, he foresaw what it would become eventually. Foresight of this kind, however, was not natural to him. Whitefield did not " see afar off," into the progress of society, or the bearings of colonization. He opened no long nor current accounts with Time, but only with Eternity. How his doings would tell upon future ages and generations — he seems never to have calculated. His immediate object was to win souls, and his final object, to present them before the throne " with exceeding joy." Such being the cast of W hitefield's mind, as well as of his spirit, a new and destitute colony could absorb him, as fully as the hope of being another " apostle of the Indians," or another Eliot, did W^esley. That brilliant hope does not seem to have dazzled Whitefield at all. At least, I have searched in vain for any distinct proof, that the example of Eliot inspired him, or that the sanguine expectations of the Wesleys were shared by him. No where does he express hopes of great success, nor explain his errand (as they did) by a desire to " save his soul." Whatever he anticipated or intended in reference to the Indians on the banks of the Savannah, he said but little ; and that little 160 whitefield's life and times. only to an Indian trader in confidence. 182 Let. He may, how- evei% have cherished fond expectations, although he did not utter them as the Wesleys did. Not that he was more prudent than his friends. In general, Whitefield thought aloud. It is possible, however, that his reference to the prophecy, " I will make thee the head of the heathen," may mean more than meets the eye. I am not making a mystery of his silence. It is easily explained by the single fact, that he went out, intending to return to England in the course of the year, to " take priest's orders." He could not, therefore, anticipate much success from so short a visit to America. Besides, his silence is only too easily accounted for, by the oracular summons to return imme- diately, which Wesley addressed to him, as their vessels met and passed in the Channel. What I mean to say, therefore, is, that nothing but the future results of his American enterprise can explain its origin. It was " the burden of the Lord " upon his spirit ; deeply felt, but not fully understood by himself at the time, nor ever perhaps in this world. Only He, who " seeth the end from the beginning," foresaw the bearings of Whitefield's mission to Georgia, upon America. We can now see many of the reasons why " the Spirit did not suffer " him to remain in England : America needed him, in a sense he did not suppose, and to an extent she herself did not suspect ; and the reasons of his mission are not all unfolded yet. It had much influence upon the recent revivals in that country, when they began ; and is likely to have still more as they proceed. In the mean time, by a curious coincidence, the new revivals in America are as- sailed under the shelter of high-sounding compliments to the old. What Dr. Chauncy denounced as wild extravagance, in the times of Whitefield, Calvin Colton eulogizes as prudent zeal, in his " Reasons for preferring Episcopacy." The truth or the merits of Colton's parting charges against his former connexions, I am unable to appreciate ; but it is pleasing to find, that the episcopal church allows a new champion to compliment old revivals. She ought not, however, to plume herself on the compliments paid to her " orders," at the expense of the Eng- lish independents, by Colton. By what infatuation could he have so forgotten all he saw and heard of us, as to tell Ame- whitefield's life and times. 161 rica that we prefer recognition to ordination ? It is the very sacredness in which we hold the latter, that leads to the dis- tinction. Whitefield, as we have seen, arrived at Georgia in 1738, " When ahle to look about him," says Dr. Gillies, " he found every thing bore the aspect of an infant colony ; and, what was more discouraging still, he saw it was likely to continue so, by the nature of its constitution. The people were denied the use of both rum and slaves ! " This Whitefield wrote, and this Gillies recorded, without any comment. Indeed, Whitefield considered the denial of rum and slaves, as more than a misfor- tune to the colony. Hence he adds, (after stating that female heirs were not allowed to inherit lands,) " so that, in reality, to place a people there on such a footing, was little better than to tie their legs and bid them walk. The scheme was well meant at home ; but, as too many years' experience evidently proved, it was absolutely impracticable in so hot a country abroad." How differently would Whitefield write, if alive, now ! But then, he was not wiser than his times, on the subject of slavery. Indeed, he soon became a slave owner, when he founded his orphan-house at Georgia. I have seen the inventory, in his own hand-writing, of the dead and live stock belonging to that establishment. In that document, carts, cattle, and slaves are described and valued with equal formality and nonchalance ! I might have concealed this fact, now that there are Americans who may employ it in their own justification : but I have not hid it ; because even they cannot hide from themselves the fact, that Whitefield ought never to have held a slave. It was not like himself — it was unworthy of him, to do so ! So it is of every American christian, " I wot that through ignorance " he did it, as did their and our fathers. He would not do it now. Who does not, instinctively, feel this ? How difficult it is to believe that ever George Whitefield could have written the following words ! In his memorial to the governor of Georgia, for a grant of lands to found a college, he urges his request by stating, that " a con- siderable sum of money is intended speedily to be laid out in purchasing a large number of negroes," In his memorial to the king, praying for a charter to the intended college, he pledges 162 whitefield's life and times. himself to " give up his trust, and make a free gift of all lands, negroes, goods, and chattels, which he now stands possessed of in the province of Georgia, for the present founding, and to- wards the future support, of a college, to be called Bethesda." He makes a similar appeal to the archbishop of Canterbury ; informing him that " the number of negroes, young and old, is about thirty ;" and proving to him, that by " laying out only a thousand pounds in purchasing an additional number of negroes," the income of the college would be " easily and speedily aug- mented." In his own printed account of the state of the orphan- house in 1770, he thus classes the negroes ; men 24, women 11, children 15. In the college rules, drawn up by himself, although not unmindful of the coloured branches of his family, he makes a strange distinction : " The young negro boys to be baptized and taught to read. The young negro girls to be taught to work with the needle." " Lord, ivhat is man ! " Whitefield did not, however, forget the negroes in his preach- ing. It was not uncommon for him to close his sermons thus : " I must not forget the poor negroes ; no, I must not ! Jesus Christ died for them as well as for others. Nor do I mention you last, because I despise your souls ; but because I would have what I shall say make the deeper impression on your hearts. Oh that you would seek the Lord to be your righteousness ! Who knows but he may be found of you ? For in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female, bond nor free ; even you may be the children of God, if you believe in Jesus. Did you never read of the eunuch belonging to the queen of Candace ? — a negro like yourselves. He believed. The Lord was his righteous- n.ess. He was baptized. Do you also believe — and you shall be saved. Christ Jesus is the same now as he was yesterday, and will wash you in his own blood. Go home, then — and turn the words into a prayer, and entreat the Lord to be your righteousness. Even so, come, Lord Jesus, come quick- ly, into all our souls ! Amen, Lord Jesus, Amen and Amen ! " Serm. 14. Whitefield embarked for Philadelphia, with a family consist- ing of eight men, one boy, and two children, besides his zealous and munificent friend Mr. Seward ; leaving the bishop of Lon- whitefield's life and times. 163 dorij and whoever else it might concern, to digest as they could the blunt and bold answer to the " Pastoral Letter;" a Letter which Gibson ought not to have written, and Watts never to have sanctioned : for its moral excellences and just discrimina- tions, however well meant, were mixed up with maxims sub- versive of the gospel of the grace of God. This conviction Whitefield proclaimed before 20,000 people at Blackheath, on the day the letter appeared ; and he wrote in his diary that night, after going on board, the following note : " I felt great freedom in myself, and could not but take notice of a mistake his Lordship of London was guilty of; — for he exhorts his clergy, so to explain the doctrine of justification by faith alone, as to make our good works a necessary condition of it. St. Paul pronounces a dreadful anathema against those who join faith and works together, in order to their being justified in the sight of God, I pray God, that all preachers may be freed from so tremendous a sentence ! And let all the people say. Amen and Amen." I mention this fact again, because it gave Whitefield a new point to contend for, which much improved his views of the point he began with ; for at first, he almost put regeneration in the room of justification; as well as preached too little of the truth, by which the Spirit regenerates the soul. The delay of the vessel in the river enabled him to answer the bishop before sailing ; and the new question absorbed him in thought and reading, throughout the voyage. Not, how- ever, so as to divert him from the duties of a ship chaplain. These he discharged with the same fidelity as formerly ; but as they did not make so much demand upon his time, he gave him- self " to reading." Amongst the books which helped him mightily at this time, were Jonathan Warne's " Church of England Man turned Dis- senter" and " Arminianism the back-door to Pojyeri/." I have not been able to obtain these two ; but as they are chiefly com- posed of extracts from Dr. Edwards' Preacher, their character is no secret ; and it loses nothing of its point in the hands of Warne, if I may judge from his pamphlet entitled, "The dreadful Degeneracy of the Clergy, the means to promote Irre- M 2 164 whitefield's life and times. ligion. Atheism, and Popery," which he drew from Edwards, and dedicated to Whitefield. Warne was thus the^r^^ dissenter who wrote on Whitefield's behalf. The compliment also w^as well timed, and well judged ; for it sustained him against the bishop, by the testimony of the fathers and martyrs of the church ; and brought the puritans under his notice. Warne tells Whitefield, to " go on in the name of the Lord;" for the truths submitted him (with which his own preaching is delicately identified) " are to be found sparkling up and down in the labours of our godly reformers and holy martyrs, like so many diamonds of the greatest lustre, and are the bases of all sound religion both in heart and life." It was well for Whitefield that he had studied Warne's spe- cimens of the reformers and puritans, before he reached New England : they enabled him to adjust his phraseology in the pulpit to " the form of sound words " in the States ; and pre- pared him to retract and explain expressions in his printed sermons, which the descendants of the puritans were not slow, nor ceremonious, nor wrong, in condemning. Another thing which helped to clear and simplify his own views of the gospel, during the voyage, was, the discussion he carried on with a quaker, who preached occasionally in the cabin, and always against the outward Christ. His doctrine of the inward Christ, and his confounding of the inward light with the Spirit, led Whitefield to confess and contend, that " the outward righteousness of Christ imputed to us, is the sole foun- tain and cause of all the inward communications received from the Spirit." In other respects his voyage had not much interest. It was, however, so useful to himself, that he said on reviewing the knowledge he had 'acquired during it, "I would not but have come this voyage for a thousand worlds." One of the fruits of it was his " Letter to the Religious Societies in England and Whales, lately set on foot ;" a pamphlet which had no ordinary influence upon their faith and patience. It is founded upon Heb. X. 23, which he translates thus : " Having been washed in the body with pure water, let us hold fast the mutual and uniform whitefield's life and times. 165 profession of the hope, without wavering ; for He is faithful that hath promised." The letter bears date Sept. 22 ; and presents a remarkable contrast to his own hopes on that day, as these appear in his diary : — not that he himself was in despair ; but he felt, he says, " something of that which Adam felt when he was turned out of Paradise, ate but little, and went mourning all the day long." Accordingly, he does not mention the letter, nor intimate that he had done any thing but " weep bitterly." This arose from the overwhelming discoveries he had made of the plagues of his own heart, and of the depths of Satan. It happily reminded him, however, of Luther's experience, — " that he never undertook any fresh work, but he was visited either with a fit of sickness, or with some strong temptation." " May I follow him," he says, " as he did Christ." Thus hum- bled, improved, and encouraged to persevere in his work, he arrived at Philadelphia, after a passage of nine weeks ; and after having had, he says, " a legion of devils cast out of his heart by the power of Christ." His welcome at Philadelphia was cordial. Both ministers and laymen of all denominations visited him, and invited him to preach. He was especially pleased to find that they pre- ferred sermons when " not delivered within the church walls." It was well they did ; for his fame had reached the city before he arrived, and thus collected crowds which no church could contain. " The court-steps " became his pulpit ; and neither he nor the people wearied, although the cold winds of November blew upon them night after night. Old Mr. Tennent, of Neshaminy, (the father of the Ten- nents,) came to visit and hear him ; and thus paved his way to New Brunswick, where he became acquainted with Gilbert, the oldest son " of the good old man," as Whitefield always called him. Gilbert Tennent and George Whitefield were just the men to meet at this time. Both were popular, and both had been persecuted. Accordingly, they understood and appre- ciated each other at once. Tennent readily entered into White- field's views ; and Whitefield, nobly despising all the abomina- ble imputations which the world cast upon Tennent, identified 166 whitefield's life and times. himself with him in America ; and told England that he was " a son of thunder, whose preaching must either convert or enrage hypocrites." Journals. This was no ordinary magnanimity ; for, at the time, Ten- nent's name was loaded with reproach, and the grossest immo- ralities were attributed to him. American Biog. Diet. He out- lived them all, however, and closed a life of signal usefulness by a death of signal peace. How much Whitefield was both struck and humbled by his preaching, will be seen from the following record : — " Never before heard I such a searching sermon. He went to the bot- tom indeed, and did not daub with untempered mortar. He convinced me more and more, that we can preach the gospel of Christ no further than we have experienced the power of it in our hearts. I found what a hahe and novice I was in the things of God." Diarij. After preaching together in various places, they went to Neshaminy, to visit the good old patriarch ; and to see the log-house, (so like " the schools of the ancient prophets ! ") where Mr. Tennent had by himself trained for the ministry, Rowland, Campbell, Lawrence, Beatty, Robinson, and Samuel Blair, be- sides his own four sons. Whitefield was delighted with the scene, and predicted the result of the patriarch's enterprise : " The devil will certainly rage against the work, but I am per- suaded it will not come to nought." It did not. -It became Princetown College. At New York Whitefield was refused the use of both the church and the court-house. The commissary of the bishop, he says, was " full of anger and resentment, and denied me the use of his pulpit before I asked for it. He said, they did not want my assistance. I replied. If they preach the gospel, I wish them good luck : I will preach in the fields ; for all places are alike to me." So they were : for in the afternoon he preached in the fields, and in the evening in Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Pem- berton's meeting-house. (Dr. Pemberton published a funeral sermon on the death of Whitefield. He was then at Boston, having been dismissed from New York by a cabal of ignorance and bigotry.) whitefield's life and times. 167 Whitefield did not excite much public attention in New York, at this time, nor, indeed, on any subsequent visit, until 1764, when he preached there seven weeks, with great accept- ance and success. Still, even his first labours were not in vain, Pemberton wrote to him at Philadelphia, that " many were deeply affected ; and some who had been loose and profligate, were ashamed, and set upon thorough reformation." The printers also, at both places, applied to him for sermons to pub- lish ; assuring him that hundreds had called for them, and that thousands would purchase them. This request he complied with, and " gave out " (I use his own expression, without know- ing its meaning) " two extempore discourses to be published." His own opinions of this tour, of which New York and Phi- ladelphia were the centres, are expressed in stronger language than I can illustrate from my documents, ample as they are. " It is unknown," he says, " what deep impressions have been wrought upon the hearts of hundreds. Many poor sinners have, I trust, been called home, and great numbers are under strong convictions. An opposer told me, I had unhinged many good sort of people. I believe it." One proof of the impression he made, was given in the pre- sents he received for his orphan family. " They sent me but- ter, sugar, chocolate, pickles, cheese, and flour, for my orphans ; and, indeed, I could almost say, they would pluck out their own eyes and give me. Oh that what God says of the church of Philadelphia, may now be fulfilled in the city called after her name — ' / knoiv thy works.' " This readiness to aid him in his favourite enterprise, de- termined him to go to Georgia by land, that he might col- lect by the way. Several entered heartily into this plan, and purchased a sloop (which he called the Savannah) to send on the family by sea. On leaving Philadelphia, with Seward, nearly twenty gentle- men on horseback accompanied him ; and before they reached Chester, two hundi'ed more had come to meet him. On his arrival, the judges sent him word, that they would defer their meeting until his sermon was over ; and the clergyman, finding the church would be too small, (for nearly a thousand people had 168 whitefield's life and times. come from Philadelphia,) prepared a platform for him, from which he addressed an immense assembly. Amongst other places which he visited on this tonr, was Whitely Creek, where he became acquainted with William Tennent ; and met with what hardly gratified him less, a Welch family who had heard him at Cardiff and Kingswood, before they emigrated. In vain any one else begged of him to be their guest ; he would go no where but to the Howels. The name accounts for their fascination ; it was associated with Wales, Bristol, and Howel Harris. W^hitefield became nmch attached to William Tennent. It was from him he received the well-known reproof against im- patience for heaven. They were dining with Governor Living- ston one day, and Whitefield being much exhausted by severe labour, expressed a hope that he should soon enter into his rest. lie appealed also to Tennent, if that was not his com- fort ? Tennent replied, " W'hat do you think I should say, if I were to send my man Tom into the field to plough, and at noon should find him lounging under a tree, complaining of the heat, and begging to be discharged from his hard service ? What should I say ? Why, that he was an idle, lazy fellow, and that his business was to do the work I had appointed him." This would have been a powerful rebuke from any one. It was peculiar from William Tennent. In early life he had lain in a trance, which was so like death, that his funeral was prepared, and with diflaculty prevented. The physician having heard that the flesh under the arm had quivered, when the body was laid cut, insisted upon a delay of three days. At the close of that time, no change had taken place ; and, therefore, the family resolved to inter the corpse. But still the physician hesitated. He begged for another hour ; then for half an hour ; then for a quarter of an hour : and just as this last period was expiring, whilst he was moistening the swollen tongue, the eyes opened, and a groan was uttered. He persevered ; and in the course of a few hours, Tennent revived, but with the loss of all his former ideas. His mind was a blank for nearly a year, in reference to all his past life. He had, however, a vivid impression of having been in heaven during his trance ; and, for three years after. whitefield's life and times- 169 the sounds he seemed to have heard in glory were never out of his ears. Indeed, all through his future life he was a heavenly- minded christian. This was the mgn who reproved Whitefield ; and the effect was increased hy the fact, that Tennent was a champion for civil and religious liberty, as well as a conscious heir of glory. American Biog. Diet. In the course of this tour towards Georgia, Whitefield had to endure considerable privations and peril in riding through the woods. On one occasion, he heard the wolves " howling like a kennel of hounds," near to the road. On another, he had a narrow escape in trying to cross the Potomac in a storm. He had also to swim his horse once, owing to the floods ; for. it was now the depth of winter. One night Seward and he lost themselves in the woods of South Carolina, and were much alarmed at seeing groups of negroes dancing around great fires. No real injury, however, was sustained from the journey, not- withstanding all its hardships. He arrived at Charleston in good health and high spirits. "Here," says Gillies, " he soon found that, by field preaching, he had lost his old friend the commissary, who once promised to defend him with life and fortune." The commissary had shame enough to keep out of the way, whilst Whitefield staid ; and the curate said, he could not admit him into the pulpit whilst Garden was absent. The people, however, had not for- gotten him. All the town were clamorous for him to preach some where. Accordingly, he accepted invitations to both the French church and the independent chapel. The congregations were large and polite ; but presented "an affected finery and gaiety of dress and deportment, which," he says, " I question if the court-end of London could exceed." Before he left, however, there was what he calls " a glorious alteration in the audience." Many wept; and the light and airy had a visible concern in their faces. Such was their urgency to hear more, that they won him back from the boat, after he had gone to the shore to sail for Georgia, and prevailed on him to preach again. Here he formed an intimate friendship with the independent minister, Josiah Smith ; the first native of South Carolina, who 170 whitefield's life and times. received a literary degree. Miller's Retrospect. Smith pub- lished a remarkable sermon soon after, entitled, " Tlie Cha- racter and Preacltiny of Whitejield, impartially represented and supported" Strange as this title is, both Dr. Colman and Mr, Cooper of Boston united in writing a recommendatory preface to it. And no wonder ; it was worthy of their sanction. I do not know of any thing written since, which defines and defends the character of Whitefield better. The text is. Job xxxii. 17, "I said, I will answer also my part, I also will show mine opinion." He begins by saying, " My design from this text is, to show my impartial opinion of that son of thunder, who lately graced and warmed this desk ; and would have been an ornament, I think, to the best pulpit in the province." (This was a hit as well as a hint to Commissary Garden.) The plan of the sermon is stated thus : " The scheme I propose is. First, To give my opinion of the doctrines he insisted on, and so well established. Second, To speak something of the manner of his preaching. Third, To offer my sentiments upon his personal character. Lastly, To give you my thoughts, what Providence seems to have in its view, in raising up men of this stamp in our day ; almost every where spoken against, yet crowded after and justly admired." Smith's defence of Whitefield's doctrine is masterly. His account of his manner is the best I have ever met with. " He is certainly a finished preacher. A noble negligence ran through his style. The passion and flame of his expressions will, I trust, be long felt by many. My pen cannot describe his action and gestures, in all their strength and decencies. " He appeared to me, in all his discourses, very deeply affected and impressed in his own heart. How did that burn and boil within him, when he spake of the things he had made ' touch- ing the King ! ' How was his tongue like the pen of a ready writer, touched as with a coal from the altar ! With what a flow of words — what a ready profusion of language, did he speak to us upon the great concerns of our souls ! In what a flaming light did he set our eternity before us ! How earnestly he pressed Christ upon us ! How did he move our passions with the con- straining love of such a Redeemer ! The awe — the silence — the whitefield's life and times. 171 attention which sat upon the face of the great audience, was an argument how he could reign over all their powers. Many thought he spake as never man spake before him. So charmed were the people with his manner of address, that they shut up their shops, forgot their secular business, and laid aside their schemes for the world ; and the oftener he preached, the keener edge he seemed to put upon their desires to hear him again. " How awfidly — with what thunder and sound — did he dis- charge the artillery of heaven upon us ! And yet, how could he soften and melt even a soldier of Ulysses, with the mercy of God ! How close, strong, and pungent were his application to the con- science ; mingling light and heat ; pointing the arrows of the Almighty at the hearts of sinners, while he poured in the balm upon the wounds of the contrite, and made broken bones re- joice. Eternal themes, the tremendous solemnities of our reli- gion, were all alive upon his tongue ! So, methinks, (if you will forgive the figure,) St. Paul would look and speak in a pulpit. In some such manner, I am tempted to conceive of a seraph, were he sent down to preach among us, and to tell us what things he had seen and heard above. " How bold and courageous did he look ! He was no flatterer; would not suffer men to settle on their lees ; did not prophesy smooth things, nor sew pillows. He taught the way of God in truth, and regarded not the person of men. He struck at the politest and most modish of our vices, and at the most fashion- able entertainments, regardless of every one's presence, but His in whose name he spake with this authority. And I dare war- rant, if none should go to these diversions, until they have an- swered the solemn questions he put to their consciences, our theatre would soon sink and perish. I freely own he has taken my heart ! " In a note to this sermon. Smith states that £600 were con- tributed in Charleston to the orphan-house, when Whitefield returned. He left Charleston in an open canoe, with five negro rowers, and reached Savannah in safety. " In their way," says Gillies, " they lay, for the first time, in the woods, upon the ground. 172 whitefield's life and times. near a large fire, which keeps off the wild beasts :" " An em- blem/' says Whitefield, " of the divine love and presence keep ing off evils and corruptions from the soul." He found Georgia much deserted and depressed ; but was much pleased with the tract of land, which Habersham had selected as the site of the orphan-house. It was about ten miles distant from Savannah, and included five hundred acres. On the 24th of January, 1740, he took formal " possession of his lot, and called it Bethesda, the House of Mercy." Next week, he laid out the ground-plan of the building ; and employed many workmen, who would other- wise have left the colony. In the mean time, he hired a large house, and took in twenty-four orphans. Thus he incurred at once the heavy responsibility of a large family and a larger in- stitution ; " encouraged," he says, " by the example of Professor Franck." Many years after, on reverting to this undertaking, he said, " I forgot to recollect, that Professor Franck built in Glaucha, in a populous country, and that I was building at the very tail of the world, where I could expect the least supply, and which the badness of the constitution (of the colony) which I expected every day to be altered, rendered it by far the most expensive part of all his Majesty's dominions. But had I re- ceived more and ventured less, I should have suffered less, and others more." It was well for the colony, however, and better for the world, that he did " forget to recollect " all this. By committing himself upon Bethesda, he was compelled^ like Paul when he espoused the cause of the poor saints in Jerusalem, to visit the churches every where. Having laid the foundation of the orphan-house, he left Sa- vannah, to provide as he could for forty orphans, and about sixty servants and workmen ; for such was the number depend- ent on him. He, however, had no fears nor misgivings of heart. " Near a hundred mouths,'" he writes at the time, " are daily to be supplied with food ; the expense is great ; but our great and good God will, I am persuaded, enable me to defray it. As yet, I am kept from the least doubting. The more my family increases, the more enlargement and comfort I feel. Set thy almighty Jlat to it, O gracious Father, and for thine own name's sake convince us more and more, that thou never wilt forsake those whitefield's life and times. 173 who put their trust in thee." Ou reviewing this passage fifteen years after, he wrote, " Hitherto, blessed be God, I have not been disappointed of my hope." Rev. Journ. Pliiladelphia was the first place where he pleaded the cause of the orphan-house, after having commenced the work : and he succeeded, although not in the churches. The commissary told him, that he would lend the church no more to him. " The jields are open^'' was his laconic answer ; and eight thousand people replied to his call that night, and ten thousand next day. On the sabbath morning he collected £110 for his " poor or- phans ;" and then went to church, where the commissary preached a sermon on justification by works. Whitefield had been recognised at church ; and, accordingly, was expected to answer the sermon in the evening. He did; and collected £80 more for Bethesda. Money was, however, the least part of his success. Many souls were both awakened and won. Negroes came to him, asking, " Have I a soul ? " Societies for prayer and mutual edi- fication were set up in various parts of the city. Scoffers were silent, or only muttered their curses over the punch-bowl in ta- verns, " because," says he, " I did not preach up more morality ! " Seward relates an anecdote in his journal, at this time, which deserves to be extracted. " A drinking club, whereof a clergy- man was a member, had a negro boy attending them, who used to mimic people for their diversion. The gentlemen had him mimic our brother Whitefield ; which he was very unwilling to do (Whitefield had just published an appeal on behalf of the negroes) ; but they insisting upon it, he stood up and said, ' I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not ; unless you repent, you will all be damned.' This unexpected speech broke up the club, which has never met since." Seward's Journal. At this time Whitefield and Seward became acquainted with Anthony Benezett, the philanthropist. He was a quaker : but he confessed to them with tears, that the society, in general, were in a state of carnal security. This led Whitefield to " be very plain and powerful " in exposing their errors. The conse- quence was, that many of them forsook him. Benezett evi- dently caught something of Whitefield's spirit, if I may judge 174 vvhitefield's life and times. from his subsequent history. It was at this amiable philan- thropist's funeral, when hundreds of weeping negroes stood round, that an American officer said, " I would rather be An- thony Benezett in that coffin, than George Washington with all his fame." Amer. Blog. The simplicity of Seward, at this time, is amusing. He was not only Whitefield's Boswell, but also his trumpeter. And he makes no secret of his being the writer of the paragraphs and advertisements which then appeared in the newspapers. One of them, which he sent from Philadelphia to the New York paper, is worth quoting, for the facts it contains. " We hear from Philadelphia, that since Mr. Whitefield's preaching there, the dancing school and concert room have been shut up, as inconsistent with the doctrines of the gospel ; at which some gentlemen were so enraged, that they broke open the door. It is most extraordinary that such devilish diversions should be supported in that city, and by some of that very sect, whose first principles are an utter detestation of them ; as appears from William Penn's ' No Cross, no Crown ;' in which he says, ' Every step in a dance is a step to hell.' " It was Seward himself who had taken away the keys of the assembly rooms, that all the people might come to hear White- field. He obtained the keys from the keeper, on promising to meet all consequences. Accordingly, he was threatened with a caning, and got well abused ; which quite delighted him. It ought, however, to be known, that Seward was hurried away into rash zeal on this occasion, by finding a son of Penn one of the proprietors of the assembly house. This would have pro- voked even an English quaker, as well as a methodist. Journal, p. 6. He had, however, to provide for the dancing master's family. He did also a better thing at this time: " Agreed with Mr. Allen for five thousand acres of land, on the forks of the Delaware ; the conveyance to be made to Mr. Whitefield, and after that assigned to me as security for my money, £2200." This purchase was chiefly made for the benevolent design of a negro school, similar to the orphan-house. Seward, however, did not live to carry his design into effect. He died before Whitefield returned to England. whitefield's life and times. 175 After visiting various places, and producing every where a great impression, Whitefield arrived at New York, where he was met by William Tennent. He had, however, overtaxed his strength by labour, and lost his appetite. He did not, there- fore, create a great sensation there at this time ; at least, not equal to that in other places. His audiences, however, were never under seven or eight thousand persons, and he obtained £300 for Bethesda. It is very affecting to read his diary at this time : he was so unwilling to give way to his suiferings, and so unable to do jus- tice to his burning zeal. He made a desperate eifort at Long Island to reach his usual pitch ; but almost sunk under it, as he turned to the ministers, exclaiming, " Oh that we were all aflame offlre ! " On his way to Philadelphia again, he revived; having had the assistance and society of the Tennents, and some refreshing sleep, which, he says, " my body much wanted," This rally was opportune ; for the whole city was moved at his coming. He, too, was moved with indignation, on hearing that antino- mianism had been charged against the tendency of his doctrine. Accordingly, he " cleared himself from the aspersion with great spirit," in his first sermon. " I abhor the thoughts of it," he said ; " and whosoever entertains the doctrines of free grace in an honest heart, will find them cause him to be fruitful in every good word and work." In this loathing abhorrence of antino- mianism, Rowland Hill always appeared to me to inherit the mantle and spirit of Whitefield, and to remember that he inhe- rited them. His well-known sarcasm, " It is a nasty religion," did more execution upon that monster of the mire, than any weapon I have seen wielded. The look and the tone, in which this was uttered, justified as they were by his own holy charac- ter, were irresistible. The hit struck as wit, and stuck as wis- dom. Whitefield having repelled the charge of antinomianism in Philadelphia, had next to justify his zeal. That was attacked on the following sabbath in church, whilst he himself was pre- sent. The clergyman took for l^is text, " I bear them record, they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge." It was an unfortunate selection for the accuser ; and Whitefield 176 whitefield's life and times. turned the context upon him with tremendous point and power, in the evening, before an audience of twenty thousand. " I could have wished he had considered the next words — ' for they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to estab- lish their oivn righteousness, have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth,' " Rom. x. 3, 4. That night J{fff/ negroes, besides many other converts, came to tell him " what God had done for their souls." Next day he set out for Derby, and found, when he came to the ferry, that " people had been crossing over, as fast as two boats could carry them, ever since tJiree o'clock in the morning." Many of them followed him to Chester and Wellington also, and almost wore him out by their claims upon his time and strength. They were not, however, inconsiderate of his object : they gave him much, and promised him more, for his orphans. Whilst in " Chester county," a new feature was added to the effects of his ministry. It had often been accompanied by the deep silence of awe, and the silent tears of penitence, both in England and America: but it never produced paroxysms of crying or conviction. Something of this kind certainly hap- pened at Bristol ; for Wesley appeals with triumph to " outward signs," similar to those produced there by himself, although Whitefield says nothing about them in his journals ; " which," says Southey, " assuredly he would have done, had he been con- vinced, with Wesley, that these fits were the immediate work of God." The only thing of the kind, however, which Whitefield mentions before the scenes at Nottingham and Fog's Manor, occurred at Philadelphia, whilst he was " settling " one of his societies, but not preaching. It was a female society, composed of many who had just been awakened by his preaching. When, therefore, he met them, and proceeded to organize and exhort them, their unexpected number and iieAV position overcame them. " Their cries might be heard at a great distance." Still this was all. And it took only a devotional form : for he adds, " When I had done prayer, I thought proper — to leave them at their devotions." But this was far exceeded at Nottingham. " I had not spoke long, when I perceived numbers melting. As whitefield's life and times. 177 I proceeded, the influence increased, till at last, both in the morning and afternoon, thousands cried out so that they almost drowned my voice. Oh what strong cryings and tears were shed and poured forth after the dear Lord Jesus ! Some fainted ; and, when they got a little strength, would hear and faint again. Others cried out in a manner almost as if they were in the sharp- est agonies of death. And after I had finished my last dis- course, I myself was so overpowered with a sense of God's love — that it almost took away my life." Next day, even this commotion was exceeded at Fog's Manor. " Look where I would, most were drowned in tears. The word was sharper than a two-edged sword. Their bitter cries and tears were enough to pierce the hardest heart. Oh what dif- ferent visages were then to be seen ! Some were struck pale as death, others lying on the ground, others wringing their hands, others sinking into the arms of their friends, and most lifting up their eyes to heaven, and crying out to God for mercy. I could think of nothing, when I looked at them, so much as the great day ! They seemed like persons awakened by the last trump, and coming out of their graves to judgment ! " Remarkable as all this is, it admits of some explanation, al- though Gillies passed it over. Now, in both instances. White- field, accompanied by Tennent and Blair, rode away from the scene, to the distance of tiventy miles, immediately after these sermons and sensations : a self-evident proof, that they appre- hended no danger from the paroxysms. They rode, too, " sing- ing psalms and hymns by the way." Now they were not men who would have abandoned the conscience-struck, nor sung as they left them, had there been any symptoms of bodily or men- tal disease, at all ominous. Both W. Tennent and Blair were emphatically "nursing fathers," and Whitefield's heart was made of tenderness. It is thus evident, that he did not consider the people to be unnaturally nor unduly excited. Besides, they were not altogether unprepared for the appeals of Whitefield. Blair, who was the minister at Fog's Manor, was himself a powerful preacher, and had been creating a strong impression throughout the county, for some time. The Ten- nents also had co-operated in preparing the way of the Lord. 178 whitefield's life and times. Whitefield went to tlieir field of labour, because " a good work had begun" in it by their labours. He had, therefore, " good ground " to sow in : and he felt this, when he saw twelve thousand people assembled " in a desert place," where he did not expect so many hundreds. " I was surprised," he says, " to see such a great multitude gathered together, at so short warning." And they themselves must have been surprised at their own numbers. These facts lessen the mystery of the commotion, without diminishing its real interest. It was, as at Pentecost, men who had come from all quarters " to wor- ship,^^ that were cut to the heart ; and many of whom had " smote on their breasts," before they heard the Peter — of England's Pentecost. Whilst Whitefield was thus moving about from place to place, he wrote the following letters, in order to obtain a wife ; and it will not be wondered at noiv, that they defeated their own wise purpose by their unwise form. TO MR. AND MRS. D. " On board the Savannah, bound to Philadelphia from Georgia, April 4th, 1740. " My dear Friends, I find by experience, that a mistress is absolutely necessary for the due management of my increasing family, and to take off some of that care which at present lies upon me. Besides, I shall in all probability, at my next return from England, bring more women with me ; and I find, unless they are all truly gracious, (or indeed if they are,) without a superior, mat- ters cannot be carried on as becometh the gospel of Jesus Christ. It hath been therefore much impressed upon my heart, that I should marry, in order to have a help meet for me in the work whereunto our dear Lord Jesus hath called me. This comes (like Abrahams servant to RehekaWs relations) to know whether you think your daughter. Miss E , is a proper per- son to engage in such an undertaking ? If so ; whether you will be pleased to give me leave to propose marriage unto her ? You need not be afraid of sending me a refusal. For, I bless whitefield's life and times. 179 God, if I know any thing of my own heai't, I am free from that foolish passion which the workl calls love, I write only because I believe it is the will of God that I should alter my state ; but your denial will fully convince me that your daughter is not the person appointed by God for me. He knows my heart ; I would not marry but for him, and in him, for ten thousand worlds. — But I have sometimes thought Miss E would be my help-mate ; for she has often been impressed on my heart. I should think myself safer in your family, because so many of you love the Lord Jesus, and consequently would be more watchful over my precious and immortal soul. After strong crying and tears at the throne of grace for direction, and after unspeakable troubles with my own heart, I write this. Be pleased to spread the letter before the Lord ; and if you think this motion to be of him, be pleased to deliver the enclosed to your daughter ; — if not, say nothing, only let me know you dis- approve of it, and that shall satisfy, dear Sir and Madam, Your obliged friend and servant in Christ, G. W." TO MISS E . " On board the Savannah, April 4th, 1740. " Be not surprised at the contents of this : — the letter sent to your honoured father and mother will acquaint you with the reasons. Do you think you could undergo the fatigues that must necessarily attend being joined to one, who is every day liable to be called out to suffer for the sake of Jesus Christ ? Can you bear to leave your father and kindred's house, and to trust on him (who feedeth the young ravens that call upon him) for your own and children's support, supposing it should please him to bless you with any ? Can you bear the inclemencies of the air, both as to cold and heat, in a foreign climate ? Can you, when you have a husband, be as though you had none, and willingly part with him, even for a long season, when his Lord and Master shall call him forth to preach the gospel, and com- mand him to leave you behind ? If after seeking to God for direction, and searching your heart, you can say, ' I can do all N 2 180 whitefield's life and times, those things through Christ strengthening me/ what if you and I were joined together in the Lord, and you came with me at my return from England, to be a help meet for me in the management of the orphan-house ? I have great reason to be- lieve it is the divine will that I should alter my condition, and have often thought you were the person appointed for me. I shall still wait on God for direction, and heartily entreat him, that if this motion be not of him, it may come to nought. — I write thus plainly, because I trust I write not from any other principles but the love of God. — I shall make it my business to call on the Lord Jesus, and would advise you to consult both him and your friends — for in order to attain a blessing, we should call both the Lord Jesus and his disciples to the mar- riage.— I much like the manner of Isaac\s marrying with Re- hekah ; and think no marriage can succeed well, unless both parties concerned are like-minded with Tobias and his wife. — I think I can call the God of Ahraham, Isaac, and Jacob to wit- ness, that I desire ' to take you my sister to wife, not for last, but uprightly ;' and therefore I hope he will mercifully ordain, if it be his blessed will we should be joined together, that we may walk as Zachary and Elisabeth did, in all the ordinances of the Lord blameless. I make no great profession to you, be- cause I believe you think me sincere. The passionate ex- pressions which carnal courtiers use, I think ought to be avoid- ed by those who marry in the Lord. I can only promise by the help of God, ' to keep my matrimonial vow, and to do what I can towards helping you forward in the great work of your sal- vation.' If you think marriage will be any way prejudicial to your better part, be so kind as to send me a denial. I would not be a snare to you for the world. You need not be afraid of speaking your mind, — I trust I love you only for God, and desire to be joined to you only by his command and for his sake. With fear and much trembling I write, and shall patiently tarry the Lord's leisure, till he. is pleased to incline you, dear Miss E , to send an answer to, Your affectionate brother, friend, and servant in Christ, G. W." whitefield's life and times. 181 Wliitefield returned to Savannah, with collections for Bethes- da, to the amount of £500, in money and goods. On his way he preached at Lewis Town, to what he calls " as unaffected a congregation " as he had seen in America. Next day, however, he compelled the politest of them to weep, whilst he pictured the trial of Abraham's faith ; — a favourite and efficient sermon with him : but he adds, (what other ministers have found only too true,) " Alas, when I came to turn from the creature to the Creator, and to talk of God's love in sacrificing his only begot- ten Son, their tears, I observed, dried up. I told them of it ; — and could not but hence infer the dreadful depravity of human nature, that we can weep at the sufferings of a martyr, a mere man like ourselves ; but when are we affected at the relation of the sufferings of the Son of God ? " His reception at Savannah, on this occasion, deserves parti- cular attention. It engraved the orphan-house upon his heart, as with the pen of a diamond ; and was for ever vividly present to him, wherever he went afterwards, " And no v/onder ! " — it will be said, after reading his own account of this welcome. " Oh what a sweet meeting I had with my dear friends ! What God has prepared for me — I know not : but surely I cannot well expect a greater happiness, till I embrace the saints in glory ! When I parted, my heart was ready to break with sor- row ; — but now it almost burst with joy. Oh how did each, in turn, hang upon my neck, kiss and weep over me with tears of joy ! And my own soul was so full of a sense of God's love, when I embraced one friend in particular, that I thought I should have expired in the place. I felt my soul so full of a sense of the divine goodness, that I wanted words to express myself. Why me. Lord — why me ? *' When we came to public worship, young and old were all dissolved in tears. After service, several of my parishioners, all my family, and the little children, returned home, crying along the street, and some could not avoid praying very loud. " Being very weak in body, I laid myself upon a bed ; but finding so many in weeping condition, I rose and betook my- self to prayer again. But had I not lifted up my voice very high — the groans and cries of the children would have prevented 182 whitefield's life and times, my being heard. This continued for near an hour ; till at last,, finding their concern rather increase than abate, I desired all to retire. Then some or other might be heard praying earnestly, in every corner of the house. " It happened at this time to thunder and lighten, which added very much to the solemnity of the night. Next day the concern still continued, especially among the girls. I mention the orphans in particular, that their benefactors may rejoice in what God is doing for their souls," This was just the scene to inspire and determine Whitefield to live or die for the orphan-house. Accordingly, the memory of it followed him like his shadow, wherever he went. His family had now increased to a hundred and fifty persons. He therefore visited Charleston again, to plead their cause anew. But by this time Commissary Garden was ready to stake his " fortune and life " against him. He began by abus- ing Whitefield and the methodists, in their presence, by a ser- mon " as virulent, unorthodox, and inconsistent as ever was de- livered ; " and ended by refusing him the sacrament. This insult had its natural effect. It so disgusted several of Whitefield's friends, that they would not receive the sacrament from Garden. This led to sacraments in a private house ; and there, " Baptists, church folks, and presbyterians, all joined to- gether, and received according to the church of England ; ex- cepting two, who desired to have it sitting." Garden then cited Whitefield to appear in an ecclesiastical court, for not reading the Common Prayer in the presbyterian meeting-house, at Charleston. He accordingly did appear, and appealed ac- cording to law, to his Majesty's commissioners for reviewing appeals. He wrote also to the bishop of London, inquiring "^Whether the commissary of South Carolina had power to exercise any judicial authority over him or any other clergyman, not belonging to the province." Garden had, in fact, suspend- ed him from the ministry. He had, therefore, no alternative but to submit, or to lay his case before the high court of chan- cery ; which he did. Strange to say, this suspension, and his appeal against it, were afterwards pleaded against him in the synod of Glasgow, when they met " anent employing Mr. whitefield's life and times, 183 Whitefield" in the pulpits of the church of Scotland. One member of the synod, however, (probably Dr. Erskine,) asked indignantly, " For what was Whitefield suspended ? Why, for no other crime than omitting to use a form of prayer prescribed in the communion-book, when officiating in a presbyterian con- gregation ! And shall a meeting of presbyterian ministers pay any regard to a sentence which had such a foundation ? " Notwithstanding this suspension, he continued preaching, wherever he could, in the province, until the excessive heat of the season compelled him to sail for New England. He em- barked for Rhode Island, intending to go by land to Boston ; and such was the spring of his constitution, that the short voy- age completely restored him, although he had often been all but dead before he left. On his arrival at Newport, he met with a new friend, Mr. Clap, whom he describes thus : " An aged dissenting minister ; but the most venerable man I ever saw in my life. He looked like a good old puritan, and gave me an idea of what stamp those men were, who first settled in New England. His countenance was very heavenly ! He rejoiced much to see me, and prayed most affectionately for a blessing on my coming to Rhode Island. Whilst at his table, I could not but think that I was sitting with one of the patriarchs." Whitefield has not over- rated nor over-coloured the patriarch of Rhode Island. Clap " had some singularities ; but his zeal to promote the know- ledge of Christ and the interests of the gospel, cast a lustre over all his character." American Biog. Children, servants, and slaves, were objects of his special care ; and, being a bachelor, he gave away all his income to the poor and the perishing. I mention this, to distinguish him (in this coun- try) from Clap, the president of Yale College, who opposed Whitefield. After preaching with great success on Rhode Island, he rode on to Boston, and was met by the governor's son, and other gentlemen, four miles (not ten, as Gillies says) from the city. At this time, Jonathan Belcher was governor of Massachusetts : a man equally distinguished for piety and polish. He owed his honours to the favourable impression made by his high charac- 184 whitefield's life and times. ter and address, upon the Princess Sophia and her son, (after- wards George II.) when in England; and he regained them, when they were lost tlirough calumny, by vindicating himself before the throne, where they had been conferred. Princetown College owes much to Belcher ; and he was much indebted to Whitefield for the impulse, which made him its " chief patron and benefactor." His splendid hospitalities and style were in their palmy state, when Whitefield first visited Boston. Wil- lard, also, the secretary of Massachusetts, was a man of high and holy character. He was the son of Vice-President Willard, of Harvard College ; the author of the first theological yerfection" whilst its champion and adherents were so imperfect, as to leave him to sink or swim, as it might happen ? True ; he had given his old friend great pro- vocation, by turning the laugh against his lottery; and all men resent an exposure of their weakness, more than an injury to their property : but still, Wesley could have afforded to wait, whilst Whitefield was in danger of imprisonment for debt, and well nigh overwhelmed with disappointments. This was just the time for a perfectionist to " heap coals of fire " upon the head of an enemy ; and to pawn something upon the truth of universal love, as well as his " salvation upon the truth of uni- versal redemption." Whitefield w^oulcl have pawned the Foun- DERY, had it been his, to save and soothe Wesley, had he come from America, embarrassed and bowed down with care. Who does not see and feel this ? It is painful, but it is very necessary, to place the matter in this light ; for if the faults of such men are hushed up, such faults will be repeated and perpetuated by men who have fewer redeeming qualities. Future quarrels are not to be prevented wiiitefield's life and times. 209 by forgetting the past. It is by seeing how unseemly strife be- tween great brethren is, that little brethren learn to dread its beginnings. He is throwing back the progress of brotherly love in the church, who would bury in oblivion, or veil in vague ge- neralities, the " sharp contention " between Whitefield and Wesley. Like Paul and Barnabas, they can afford to have it all told, without sustaining any material loss of fame or influ- ence. They are just the men whose faults should be transmitted to posterity, that posterity may not glory in men, nor think more highly of them than they ought to think ; and that similar men, of like passions, may not run into like extremes. He is not, therefore, the best friend of " peace on earth," whatever be his love for Whitefield or Wesley, who would throw a veil over the rashness of the former, or over the selfishness of the latter, on this occasion. Whitefield was rash. He listened to tale-bearers, who put the worst construction upon Wesley's hard words against Cal- vinism, and harsh treatment of the Kingswood Calvinists. He rashly promised not to preach against him, and as rashly threat- ened to oppose him every where. He wept with Charles, and scolded John. In a word, they were, as he says, only " kept from anathematizing each other," for a time ; so divided were they in judgment, although not exactly alienated in alfection. This is, indeed, a humiliating exhibition : but how full of warning it is ! The oracle, " ye are brethren," which had so often fallen upon their ear and their heart, like music from heaven, fell unheeded on both for a time, although both were absorbed with equal zeal for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. But whilst the spirit of their breach was thus deplor- able, it is impossible to deplore the breach itself. It fell out to " the furtherance of the gospel." y^ esley foresaiv this, as well as prayed for it : " The case is quite plain. There are bigots both for and against predestination. God is sending a message to those on either side : but neither will receive it, unless from one who is of their own opinion. Therefore, for a time, you are suffered to be of one opinion, and I of another." Whitefield's heart responded to this, although his acuteness did not discern it so fully : " The great day will discover, why the Lord per- 210 whitefield's life and times. mits dear Mr. Wesley and me to be of a different way of think- ing. At present, I shall make no inquiry into that matter, be- yond the account he has given of it. I heartily pray God to hasten the time, when we shall be closely united in principle and judgment, as well as in heart and affection : and then, should the Lord call to it, — I care not if I go with him to prison or to death. For, like Paul and Silas, I hope we shall sing praises to God, and count it our highest honour to suffer for Christ's sake, and to lay down our lives for the brethren." Preface to " A Letter to Wesley'^ An earlier day than " the great day " discovered why White- field and Wesley were permitted both to differ and divide. It was a happy thing for the world and the church that they were not of one opinion : for had they been united in either extreme, truth would have made less progress. As joint Arminians, they would have spread Pelagianism ; and as joint Calvinists, they would have been hyper, though not antinomian. It was well, therefore, that they modified each other : for they were " two suns," which could not have fixed in " one meridian," without setting on fire the whole course of sound theology. In their respective spheres, however, they were equally blessed, notwithstanding the difference of their creeds on some points. This is not inexplicable, when it is remembered that they agreed thoroughly in exalting the Saviour, and in honouring the Eter- nal Spirit. And their mode of honouring the Spirit deserves particular attention. They sought and cherished His tmction for themselves, as well as enforced the necessity of His opera- tions upon others. And until preaching be, itself, a " demon- stration of the Spirit and of power," as well as in humble de- pendence upon the Spirit, its effects will not be very great, nor remarkably good. It will win but few souls to Christ, and even their character will not, in general, rise high in the beauty of holiness, nor in the zeal of love. They may just keep their name and their place in the church of the living God ; but they will not be to Him, nor to his church, " for a name and an everlast- ing sign." whitefield's life and times. 211 There is much more comiexion between the piety of a church, and the spirituahty of its minister, than appears at first sight ; and between his preaching, and the conversion of sinners, than is usually kept in view. A minister not spiritually-minded, both " quenches the Spirit " on the altar of renewed hearts, and prevents the sacred fire from reaching the altar of unregenerated hearts. He who is not " a sweet savour of Christ," makes him- self a savour of death unto death," inevitably : — of the second death to the undecided ; and of spiritual deadness to the church. It was not in this sense, that Paul was a savour of both life and death, during his ministry. The lost made him, what he became to them ; by turning into death the very truth which quickened the saved : for it was the same fragrance of " the knowledge of Christ," which proved the savour of death unto death to the former, that proved the savour of life unto life to the latter. Paul did as much, and said as much, and prayed as much, and all in the same spirit too, for the impenitent, as for the considerate ; for despisers, as for penitents. Both saw and heard in his preaching, the same " demonstration of the Spirit and of power." He stood before each class, equally the ambas- sador of Christ, and beseeching both alike to be reconciled unto God. So did Baxter, Edwards, Whitefield, and the Wesleys. Whenever they were the savour of death unto death, they were made so by those who perished under their ministry. Such men might, therefore, without presumption or imprudence, ap- ply to themselves the apostolic maxim, " We are unto God — a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish." Such ministers would not, indeed, say this without adding, " Who is sufficient for these things ?" nor without weep- ing whilst they said, "to the other we are a savour of death unto death;" but they could not blame themselves with the blood of souls. It was not their fault, that any were lost, who heard them ; for they extended the golden sceptre of mercy as freely, and frequently, and fervently, to the heedless and the hardened, as to the thoughtful or the timid. This i§ a very different case from that of a minister, who preaches the gospel without the demonstration of the Spirit, or power. He makes himself the savour of death unto death to 212 Whitekield's lie^e and times. others, even when he teaches " the knowledge of Christ ;" be- cause he breathes not the fragrance of that knowledge. He, therefore, has no right to throw himself upon the apostolic maxim, when his ministry is unsuccessful. It is unsuccessful, because it is tinsavoin'y. It brings no sinners to life, because it is lifeless : for it is the " savour " of the knowledge of Christ, that God " maketh manifest in every place," 2 Cor. ii. 14 ; and that savour cannot breathe from the lips or looks of a minister, unless his heart hum with love to Christ and immor- tal souls. It is high time that the church of Christ should consider, not only the duty of depending on the Spirit, but also the import and the importance of the " demonstration of the Spirit," in preaching. That is more — than the demonstration of orthodoxy. It is more than the demonstration of either sound scholarship or hard study. It is even more than the demonstration of mere sincerity and fidelity. Sincerity may be cold, and fidelity harsh. Even zeal may be party rivalship, or personal vanity ; whilst it seems holy fire searching only for incense to the glory of God and the Lamb. To preach in demonstration of the Spirit, is even more than bringing out " the mind of the Spirit," faith- fully and fully. The real meaning of His oracles may be honestly given, and yet their true spirit neither caught nor conveyed. " What the Spirit saith unto the churches," may be repeated to the churches without evasion or faltering ; but it will not be heard as His counsel or consolation, unless it is spoken with something of his own love and solemnity. He is the Spirit of power, and of grace, and of love, as well as the Spirit of truth and wisdom ; and therefore He is but half copied in preach- ing, when only his meaning is given. That meaning lies in His mind, not merely as truth, nor as law, nor as wisdom, but also as sympathy, solicitude, and love for the souls it is addressed unto. The words of the Spirit are spirit and life ; and there- fore the soul, as well as the substance, of their meaning is essen- tial to faithful preaching. They can hardly be said to be the words of the Holy Ghost, when they are uttered in a spiritless or lifeless mood. This will be more obvious by looking at " the truth, as it is whitefield's life and times. 213 in Jesus." In Him it is grace as well as truth. All his heart, and soul, and strength, breathes and burns in his words. His motives are part of his meaning. He explains the great salva- tion, that he may endear and enforce its claims at the same time. He makes vis feel, that he feels more for our souls than words can express. He compels us to see a beaming of earnest- ness in his eye, and to hear a beating of intense solicitude in his heart, and to recognise a fixedness of purpose in all his manner, unspeakably beyond all he says. The real pleading of the Saviour with sinners begins where his words end. His iveep- ing silence, after speaking as never man spake, tells more of his love to souls than all his gracious words. We feel that he feels he has gained nothing by his preaching, unless he has won souls. He leaves upon every mind the conviction, that nothing can please him but the heart ; and that nothing would please him so much as giving him the heart. No man ever rose, or can rise, from reading the entreaties of Christ, without feeling that Christ is in earnest — is intent — is absorbed, to seek and save the lost. The apostles evidently marked this with great attention, and copied it with much success, when they became ambassadors "/or Christ," by the ministry of reconciliation. Then, they did more than deliver the truth He taught. They tried to utter it with His solemnity, tenderness, and unction. They tried to put themselves in " Chi'ist's stead," when Christ was no longer on earth to beseech men to be reconciled unto God. This was " the demonstration of the Spirit ! " Saying what Christ did, was not enough for them : they laboured to say it as he did ; or in the spirit, and for the purpose, he had preached the gospel. Thus the truth was in them as it was " in Jesus ;" not merely as true, but also as impressive, persuasive, and ab- sorbing. They spoke the truth, as he had done, " in the love of it," and with love to the souls it was able to make wise unto salvation. And this is not impossible even now, although apostolic in- spiration be at an end. The best part of the Spirit's influ- ences— love to the gospel and immortal souls — is yet attainable, and as easily attained as any other ministerial qualification. A 214 whitefield's life and times. minister ought to be as much ashamed, and more afraid, of being laibaptizecl with the Holy Ghost and fire, as of being ig- norant of the original languages of the Holy Scriptures. Men who can demonstrate the problems of Euclid, or the import of Greek or Hebrew idioms, have no excuse if they are unable to preach with the demonstration of the Spirit and power. The same attention to the latter demonstration, which they gave to the former, would fill them with the Holy Ghost^ and fire them with holy zeal. Nothing is so simple, although nothing be so sublime, as preaching " the gospel with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven." Any prayerful and thoughtful minister may preach in this spirit ; for it neither includes, nor excludes, great talents, learning, or ingenuity. " An unction from the Holy One " can subordinate the mightiest and wealthiest minds to the one grand object — watching for souls ; and it can render subser- vient and successful the most ordinary powers of mind. The acute reasonings of Wesley, and the warm-hearted remon- strances and beseechings of Whitefield, were equally useful, be- cause equally demonstrations of the Spirit. In like manner, many of their uneducated colleagues " turned many to right- eousness j" and are themselves, now, turned into stars which shall shine for ever in the firmament of the church in both worlds. The secret of this success in winning souls was the same in both classes of preachers ; — their heart, their soul, their all, was in their work. Truth had the force of divine truth, the fire of eternal truth, and the glory of saving truth, upon their minds. Their hearts weve full (whether holding much or little) of heavenly treasure ; and they held it as Iiea- venl/y treasure, and poured it out as stewards who had to account for it in heaven, and to review their stewardship of it through eternity. Accordingly, both regular congregations and pro- miscuous mobs, whatever they thought of the office or the talents of these itinerants, felt that they were on Jire to watch for and win souls ; and were compelled to acknowledge, that even men who had never been at the University, " had been with Jesus," and were, indeed, " moved by the Holy Ghost." Another way in which the apostles caught and kept up the de- whitefield's life and times. 215 monstration of the Spirit in their preaching, was, by trying to beseech men to be reconciled unto God, just as God himself might be supposed to plead with them, were He to bow the heavens and come down as a minister of reconciliation. This was a bold attempt ! Even its sublimity and benevolence can- not hide its boldness, however they may excuse it. " As though God did beseech you, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled unto God." Archangels would hardly have ven- tured to go so far as the apostles, in thus trying to represent both God and the Lamb, as reconcilers. It was, however, an attempt to win souls, as wise and humble, as it was sublime or bold. There was no presumption, nor ostentation, nor pretence in it. They magnified their office, only that they might hum- ble themselves the more deeply, and discharge its duties the more faithfully. The attempt to copy God was, also, the best way of relieving themselves from the fear of man, and their best security against all trifling, temporizing, and display in the work of God. As his representatives, there would, of course, be no airs nor affectation in their manner of preaching ; no parade of novelty or learning in their matter ; no taint of bit- terness or harshness in their spirit. Thus, by adopting Him as their model, they were sure to preach better than any other ex- ample could have taught them ; for, whilst it bound them to soberness and solemnity, it left them free to speak in thunder when the conscience was to be roused ; and in metaphor when attention was to be won or relieved ; and with all the forms of eloquence whenever their subject inspired " Thoughts which breathe, or words that burn." Yes ; this divine standard, equally lofty and lovely, left them at full liberty to ransack creation for figures ; time for facts j heaven for motives ; hell for warnings ; and eternity for argu- ments : binding them only to make the whole bear directly, consistently, and supremely, upon their one grand object — re- conciling the world unto God by the blood of the cross : for whilst that was " all and all " as the final end of their ministry, they might warrantably and legitimately employ in the pursuit of it, every tone and term, image and emotion, in which God 216 whitefield's life and times. himself had ever appealed to the hopes or fears of man. Ac- cordingly, there was much that was godlike in their preaching. They could not, of course, realize fully, nor imitate far, the manner or the spirit in which God would plead his own cause, were He to preach his own gospel : but still, their reasonings were not unlike His manifold wisdom ; nor their appeals un- worthy of His paternal tenderness ; nor their remonstrances inconsistent with His judicial authority. There was a fine de- monstration' of the Spirit in the boldness of Peter, in the sublimity of Paul, and in the heavenliness of John. It was to this beseeching as in the " stead of Christ and God," that Paul referred, when he besought the Ephesians to pray for him, " that utterance might be given him, to speak boldly " as an ambassador, though in bonds, " ought to speak," He meant more than not being silent or ashamed ; more than rising superior to circumstances and danger. He meant also, speaking with equal demonstration of the Spirit and power, in peril as in peace ; in Rome as in Jerusalem -, before Caesar as before the sanhedrim. In nothing, perhaps, did Whitefield keep Paul more before him, than in this strong solicitude to " speak as he ought to speak." No phrase occurs so often in his journals as, " preach- ed with much power ; with some power." He does not venture to call even his greatest efforts a "demonstration of the Spirit ;" but the word " power " occurs so uniformly, that it tells plainly what he was thinking about, after all sermons which produced a visible effect. His enemies said he was complimenting his own sermons. They little knew his heart, and still less the humiUty which springs from "an unction" of the Spirit ! To prevent unnecessary misunderstanding, however, he explained his meaning thus, in a note to his revised journals : " By the word power, I mean, all along, no more, nor no less, than en- largement of heart, and a comfortable frame, given me fi-om above ; by which I was enabled to speak with freedom and clearness, and the people were impressed and affected thereby." This is only explaining — not retracting nor qualifying. He knew, and tens of thousands felt, that God was with him of a truth, making the gospel rebound from his heart to their hearts ; whitefield's life and times. 217 melting them by warming him ; winning their souls, by absorb- ing his soul with the glories of salvation. Happily, this spirit cannot be imitated in preaching. It may be imbibed and breathed by any devotional and devoted minis- ter ; but it cannot be copied. No tones, looks, nor tears, can demonstrate the presence of the Spirit in a sermon, if the preacher has not been " in tlie Spirit,^' before coming to the pulpit. Neither the melting nor the kindling of men but half devoted, or but half-hearted in devotion, can melt down or wield an audience, by the gospel ; because the Holy Spirit will not honour fits and starts of fidelity. The minister must be a holy temple unto the Holy Ghost, who would have that Spirit speak to the hearts of men by him. Never does a preacher dupe him- self, or endanger others, more, than when he imagines that the Spirit will give power to the gospel amongst his people, whilst it has not power upon himself. God makes ministers a blessing to others, by blessing themselves first. He works in them, in order to work by them, I throw out these hints, not to ministers, but to private christians, who know what it is to pray in the Spirit, and what it is to see divine things in the light of eternity. Preaching with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, is just what pray- ing in the Holy Ghost is ; not form, nor forcing, nor copying ; but the outpouring of a heart penetrated with the greatness of the great salvation, and absorbed with the solemn responsibili- ties involved in the hope of salvation. Did such hearers sustain such preachers, by prayer, and esteem, and co-operation, there would be far more demonstration of the Spirit in the evangelical pulpits of the land : and many who now content themselves with depending on the Holy Spirit, would be compelled to cultivate the fellowship of that Spirit, instead of merely complimenting his power. CHAPTER IX. WHITEFIELD IN SCOTLAND. 1741. The state of religion in Scotland at this time will be best un- derstood, as well as most fairly represented, by a brief view of the rise and progress of the Secession. That second Reforma- tion in Scotland brought into full light and play all the good and evil of the national church. I shall, therefore, state the facts, just as they now challenge and defy investigation. I have never seen the ^nal appeals of the Associate Synod inva- lidated ; and therefore I employ their own words. " The Secession is regarded both by its friends and its ene- mies as a highly important event in the history of the church of Scotland. However slight and accidental the circumstances by which it was immediately occasioned may appear, it un- questionably arose from a general state of matters in the church, naturally tending towards such a crisis. Divine Providence, whose operations are often apparently slow, but always sure and progressive, had been gradually paving the way for an open division, calculated, notwithstanding all its accompanying evils, to prevent the utter extinction of religious principle and free- dom in the land, and to advance the interests of truth and piety. A torrent of corruption, which threatened the over- throw of every thing sacred in doctrine and valuable in privi- lege, was proceeding to so great a height, that enlightened and conscientious men were impressed with the necessity of bold and decisive steps. " The prevalence of those erroneous tenets and oppressive whitefield's life and times. 219 measures, which gave rise to the Secession, may be traced back to the defects attending the settlement of ecclesiastical affairs at the era of the Revolution 1688. That era was truly glo- rious ; and in no quarter of the British empire were its blessings more necessary, or more sensibly experienced, than in Scot- land. Religious as well as civil rights and liberties were then restored to a nation, which, under the tyrannical sway of Charles II. and James VII. had been most cruelly degraded and oppressed. Episcopacy was abolished ; the presbyterian wor- ship and government re-established; pastors who had been ejected from their churches in 1661, were replaced; and the law of patronage, though not absolutely annulled, was so modi- fied, and, in consequence, so gently administered, that it was scarcely felt as a grievance. " But while the Scottish presbyterians had much cause for gratitude and joy, they had at the same time several sources of regret. The omission of an act formally asserting Christ's sole headship over the church, and expressly condemning the royal supremacy which had been assumed under the two preceding reigns, was deeply lamented. Nor was it an inconsiderable evil, that, in compliance with the wishes of the court, about three hundred of the prelatical incumbents, some of whom had even been active agents in the work of persecution, were, ' upon easy terms,' permitted to retain their stations in the parishes of Scotland, and to sit in the ecclesiastical courts. Attached, in many instances, to unscriptural doctrines, no less than to epis- copalian forms of worship and discipline, these men could not fail to obstruct the efforts of those faithful ministers who at- tempted to promote the cause of evangelical truth and practical religion. Among those ministers themselves, there were com- paratively few who displayed all that magnanimity and zeal which the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom required ; and the exercise of which, on that momentous occasion, might have proved incalculably advantageous to vital Christianity in their own days, and in succeeding ages. Owing to the pusillanimity of some clergymen, and the waywardness of others, lamentable symptoms of degeneracy in principle and practice were dis- cernible within a short period after the happy Revolution. The 220 whitefield's life and times. worthy Halyburton accordingly, amid the triumphant ex- pressions of christian faith and hope, which he uttered on his death-bed, in 1712, deplored in the strongest terms 'the grow- ing apostasy ' of the times, and, in particular, that indifference to the peculiarities of the gospel and to the power of godliness, which prevailed among a great proportion of the clergy. He exclaimed, for example, ' Oh that the ministry of Scotland may be kept from destroying the church of Scotland. Oh that I could obtain it of them with tears of blood, to be concerned for the church ! Shall we be drawn away from the precious gospel, and from Christ.' Fraso-'s Erskines. " The Secession did not originate in any dissatisfaction with the professed principles of the church of Scotland, which seceders venerate as a precious summary of divine truths — the most valuable inheritance they have received from their fathers — and which they are anxious to transmit in purity to their children. But for some time before they were expelled from the communion of the national churchy a tide of defection had been flowing in from the prevailing party in her judi- catories, which, while it spared the erroneous in doctrine, and the irregular in conduct, bore down the christian people con- tending for their religious privileges, and those ministers who testified faithfully against ecclesiastical misconduct. " A professor of divinity, in one of the Universities, taught that the souls of children are as pure and holy as the soul of Adam was in his original condition, being inferior to him only as he Avas formed in a state of maturity ; and that the light of nature, including tradition, is sufficient to teach men the way of salvation. For these doctrines, subversive of the first prin- ciples of Christianity, a process was instituted against him, in which it was clearly proved that he was chargeable with teach- ing publicly these and other errors. But so far from being sub- jected to the censure he deserved, he was permitted to retain his place in the University and the church ; and the General As- sembly were satisfied with declaring that some of his opinions were not evidently founded on the word of God, nor necessary to be taught in divinity, and prohibiting him from publishing such sentiments in future. whitefield's life and times. 221 " The * Marrow of Modern Divinity ' teaches, * that God in the gospel makes a gift of the Saviour to mankind as sinners, war- ranting every one who hears the gospel to helieve in him for salvation ; that believers are entirely freed from the law as a covenant of works ; that good works are not to be performed by believers that they may obtain salvation by them.' In the unqualified condemnation of these principles, the General As- sembly materially condemned some of the most important doc- trines of the gospel, such as the unlimited extent of the gospel call, and the free grace of God in the salvation of sinners. " For a short time after the revival of the law of patronage, in 1712, such as received presentations were backward to accept of them, and the church courts were unwilling to proceed to their settlement, where opposition was made by the people of the vacant charge. But presentees and judicatories became gradually less scrupulous, and several settlements afterwards took place in reclaiming congregations, which gave plain evi- dence that the rights of the members of the church would be no longer regarded. The little influence which might occa- sionally be left to the people in the choice of their ministers, was destroyed by an act of the General Assembly, passed im- mediately before the commencement of the Secession. This act, providing that where patrons might neglect, or decline to exercise, their rights, the minister should be chosen by a ma- jority of the elders and heritors, if protestant, was unconstitu- tionally passed by the Assembly, as a great majority of the presbyteries, who gave their opinions upon the subject, were decidedly hostile to the measure. " Many pious and faithful ministers were grieved by these defections ; but being deprived, by the prevailing party in the Assembly, of the liberty of marking their disapprobation in the minutes of the court, no method of maintaining a good con- science remained, except testifying against defection, in their public ministrations. This method was adopted; and for a public condemnation of these corruptions by the Rev. Ebenezer Erskine, 1732, a process was instituted against him, which ter- minated, 1733, in first suspending him and three of his brethren, the Rev. Messrs. William Wilson, Alexander Moncrieif, and 222 whitefield's life and times. James Fisher, who had joined him, from the exercise of the ministerial office, and afterwards, 1740, dissolving their relation to their congregations and the national church." Dr. Waugli's Life. " The valuable order of husbandmen, who constituted a very considerable portion " of the Secession, " were, at this period, of the third generation in descent from the covenanters, who lived towards the latter end of the seventeenth century ; to whom their country owes a deep debt of gratitude, for their pious zeal, their patient sufferings, and their severe, long-protracted, and ulti- mately successful struggle with a despotic and persecuting go- vernment. Like their ancestors, whose memory for the most part they warmly cherished and venerated, besides being zeal- ous presbyterians, they were distinguished by frugal habits, simple manners, and an ardent regard for evangelical doctrines. In addition to a regular and exemplary attendance on the pub- lic ordinances of divine worship, they faithfully performed the exercises of devotion in their families, and laboured, with patri- archal diligence, to instil into the minds of their children and domestics the principles of sound doctrine and a holy life. The strict and regular observance of the duties of family religion, appears to have been one chief cause of the high eminence in Scriptural knowledge, in sobriety of manners, as well as in every domestic virtue, for which the northern part of Great Britain was then justly celebrated. The patriarchal simplicity of man- ners which, about the middle of the last century, so especially characterized Scottish husbandmen, was calculated, in a high degree, to foster deep affections, and a sober but manly earnest- ness both of principle and deportment ; and it may be fairly stated, as one of the happy privileges of the Secession church, that so large a number of its ministers have sprung from this virtuous and valuable order of men. " But the religious order of the family was the distinguishing trait. The whole household assembled in the hall (or kitchen) in the morning before breakfast, for family worship, and in the evening before supper. The goodman, of course, led their devotions, every one having his Bible in his hand. This was the stated course even in seed-time and harvest : between five VVHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 223 and six in the morning was the hour of prayer in these busy seasons. " On sabbath all went to church, however great the distance, except one person in turn, to take care of the house or younger children, and others to tend the cattle. After a late dinner, on their return, the family assembled around the master, who first catechised the children and then the servants. Each was re- quired to tell what he remembered of the religious services they had joined in at the house of God ; each repeated a portion of the Shorter Catechism ; and all were then examined on heads of divinity, from the mouth of the master. Throughout the whole of the sabbath, all worldly concerns, except such as necessity or mercy required to be attended to, were strictly laid aside ; and nothing was allowed to enter into conversation, save subjects of religion." Dr. Waugh''s Life. Such were the principles and character of the Seceders : and they were common in the kirks which possessed evangelical ministers. Amongst other steps taken by the Erskines, in order to strengthen the Secession, was their overture to Whitefield. Eraser's account of this negociation is, upon the whole, the most candid and complete that we possess. It hardly shows, however, all the urgency of the Erskines to secure a monopoly of White- field's influence. Ralph's letter to him, of April 10, 1741, con- tains more than Eraser has quoted. The following appeals are omitted : " Come, if possible, dear Whitefield, come, and come to U8 also. There is no face on earth I would desire more earnestly to see. Yet I would desire it only in a way that, I think, would tend most to the advancing of our Lord's kingdom, and the reformation work, among our hands. Such is the situ- ation of affairs among us, that unless you came with a design to meet and abide with us, particularly of the Associate Presbytery, and to make your public appearances in the places especially of their concern, — I would dread the consequences of your coming, lest it should seem equally to countenance our persecutors. Your fame would occasion a flocking to you, to whatever side you turn ; and if it should be in their pulpits, as no doubt some of them would urge, we know how it would be improven against us. — I know not with whom you could safely join yourself, if not 224 whitefield's life and times. with us." Olipftanfs Whitejield, Eclin. 182G. To all such appeals, Whitefield's answer was, " I come only as an occasional preacher, to preach the simple gospel to all that are willing to hear me, of whatever denomination. I write this, that there may be no misunderstanding between us." Letters. With this key, the following documents from Fraser will be as intelligible as they are interesting. Mr. Erskine sustained a heavy disappointment when White- field refused to co-operate with him in the manner asked and expected. " Having received favourable accounts respecting the character and doctrine of this celebrated man, and the ex- traordinary success of his ministry in England and America, he affectionately invited him to make a visit to Scotland, and to unite his efforts with those of the Associate Presbytery, in pro- moting the interests of truth and godliness. A letter from Mr. Erskine to Mr. Whitefield, a short-hand copy of which we have discovered in his 38th Note -book, throws some light on the views and motives which influenced him and his brethren in giving him that invitation. Several expressions are illegible. We give the following extracts :" Fraser's Life of Erskine. " Hill down, near Dunbar^ June, 1741. " Rev. and very dear brother, I inclined much to have written you as soon as I heard of your return to England ; but I was at a loss for want of a direc- tion, till I received yours from Bristol, of the IGth of May, which was very acceptable. Though I have not yet seen your last journal, yet I have heard of it, and of the great things God has done for you and by you in the American world, and at home also, in this island of the sea ; which brings that doxology to mind — ' Thanks be unto God, who always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.' May you be enabled more and more to be joyful in his salvation, and in the name of your God to set up your banner. The banner which God has given you to display, because of truth, is far more glorious than that of (Admiral) Ver- non. But I know that you are disposed to say, ' Not I, but the whitefield's life and times. 225 grace of God in me ;' ' Not unto us, but unto thy name be the glory.' " How desirable would it be to all the sincere lovers of Jesus Christ in Scotland, to see him ' travelling in the greatness of his strength ' among us also in your ministrations ! Truth falls in our streets. Equity cannot enter into our ecclesiastical courts. As our Assembly did last year eject us from our churches, and exclude us from our ministry and legal maintenance, for lifting up our reformation testimony ; so, from all I can hear, they have this year, in May last, appointed several violent intrusions to be made upon christian congregations ; whereby the flock of Christ is scattered more and more upon the mountains ; for a stranger will they not follow, who know the Shepherd's voice. The wandering sheep come with their bleatings to the Associate Presbytery ; whereby our work is daily increasing, in feeding and rallying our Master's flock, scattered and offended by the established church. " From this short glimpse of the state of matters among us, you will easily see what reason the Associate Presbytery have to say. Come over to Scotland and help us ; come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty ; for the enemy comes in like a flood, but I hope the Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him. We hear that God is with you of a truth, and therefore we wish for as intimate a connexion with you in the Lord as possible, for building up the fallen tabernacle of David in Britain ; and particularly in Scotland, when you shall be sent to us. This, dear brother, and no party views, is at the bottom of any proposal made by my brother Ralph, in his own name, and in the name of his associate brethren. It would be very unreasonable to propose or urge that you should incorporate as a member of our Presbytery, and wholly embark in every branch of our reformation, unless the Father of lights were clearing your way thereunto ; which we pray he may enlighten in his time, so as you and we may see eye to eye. All intended by us at present is, that, when you come to Scotland, your way may be such as not to strengthen the hands of our corrupt clergy and judicatories, who are carrying on a course of defection, worrying out a faithful ministry from the land, and the power of religion Q 226 whitefield's life and times. with it. * * * * Far be it from us to limit your great Master's commission to preach the gospel to every creature. We ourselves preach the gospel to all promiscuously who are willing to hear us. But we preach not upon the call and invi- tation of the ministers, but of the people, which, I suppose, is your own practice now in England ; and should this also be your way when you come to Scotland, it could do the Associate Presbytery no manner of harm. But if, besides, you could find freedom to company with us, to preach with us and for us, and to accept of our advices in your work, while in this country, it might contribute much to weaken the enemy's hand, and to strengthen ours in the work of the Lord, when the strength of the battle is against us. " These things I only propose with all submission. The Lord himself, I pray and hope, will direct you to such a course and conduct as shall be for his own glory, and the edification of his church every where, and particularly among us in Scotland. We, in this country, are generally a lifeless, lukewarm, and up- sitten generation. What a blessing would it be to us, if your visit should be attended with such fruits and effects as at Bos- ton ; an account of which I have read in your last to my brother Ralph — which yields great matter of thanksgiving. " I am truly sorry for the Wesleyans — to see them so far left to themselves. I have seen your letter to them, and praise the Lord on your behalf, who enables you to stand up so valiantly for the truth, and with so much light and energy. May his truth be more and more your shield and buckler. I am, your unworthy and affectionate brother, Ebenezer Erskine." This letter had been preceded by one from Ralph Erskine, the brother and coadjutor of Ebenezer. " Dunfermline, Aug. 21, 1739. " Reverend and very dear Sir, Yours, dated July 23rd, was most acceptable; and I would have answered it by the first post, as you propose, but that, as it lay about eight days in my house before I was at home to vvhitefield's life and times. 227 receive it, so I delayed a few days thereafter, as I was to meet with my brethren of the Associate Presbytery, to whom I com- municated your line, and Mr, William Seward's, and at the same time gave to each of them a copy of your last journal, as a present from you. I received nine of them at Burntisland, where we then were. I received also, much about the same time, six of your last sermon, on John vii, 37 ; some of which, with some of the former, I also gave to some of the brethren. And as I return you hearty thanks for these presents, so my brethren received them as tokens of that love and kindness which you express in such affectionate terms, in the close of your letter to me, as gave them very much pleasure and satisfaction, and tended to increase and inflame their love more and more to you. Your being opposed for owning us, and your maintaining such a regard for us, give ground to hope and expect that you will receive no information about us to our disadvantage, unless or until you have account thereof from ourselves, since you have laid such a foundation of kindly correspondence with us. " I have some acquaintance with Mr. Davidson in Edinburgh, whom you mention, and was glad to hear he had sent you Mr. Boston's books. However, he has not had so much communi- cation with us, as I hear he has with you, since he began to sway towards the independent or congregational way, which he has for some time been active to promote, though otherwise, I hope, a good and well-disposed man. Meantime, by whatever hand you please to send any print, (expecting, by the first occa- sion, to see the appendix, if published,) it can scarce fail to come safe, if but directed as your letters are. I have given orders to send you the prints relating to our public affairs in the Asso- ciate Presbytery ; and in case of your absence, they are to come to Mr. Seward or Mr. John Wesley. " I have now read your journals and sermons ; and I can assure you, with reference to the whole work in general, and the main scope of it, my soul has been made to magnify the Lord for the very great thin^^s he has done for you and by you ; and I rejoice to see you ascribe all to the free grace of God in Christ, and that he has so remarkably raised you up to testify against the errors and corruptions of the times, to rouse and awaken a secure gene- Q 2 228 whitefield's life and times. ration, and to bring such a number of sinners from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. If I shall speak of any particulars wherein we differ, it shall only be to show the greatness of my love to you, by the greatness of the freedom I use with you ; also to prevent after-mistakes, and to promote unfeigned love, which can both cover a multitude of infirmities, and overlook a number of differences — not by quite concealing them, which might bring love under a suspicion, but by a friendly mentioning of them, which may prove it to be without dissimulation. " Though we desire to cover with the mantle of love all the differences betwixt you and us that flow from your education in the church of England, and adore the merciful providence of God, who has so far enlightened and qualified you and your brethren to be witnesses for him and instruments of reforma- tion, yet we hope the more this work is of God, the more will it tend to bring about a happy union in the Lord betwixt you and us, not only in a private and personal, but even in a more public and general way. My brethren and I, that have had occasion here to confer about you, see a beauty in the provi- dence of your being in communion with the English church. Otherwise such great confluences from among them had not attended your ministry, nor consequently received the benefit or reaped the advantage which so many of them have done. And though infinite wisdom has made, and may yet make, this an alluring bait to draw them forth, yet as England's reforma- tion at first, (from popery and its superstitious and ceremonial services,) however great and glorious, was far from being so full as that of some other protestant churches, particularly that ^ of Scotland ; so we would fain hope that when a new and general reformation shall be set on foot, some more at least of the rags of that Romish church shall be dropt, such as (abstracting at present from the subject of church government) many useless rites and customs relating to worship, which have no Scriptural foundation. This is what some of the most pious and learned divines of your communion have wished to see reformed, know- ing that many of these were retained at first, only under the view of reforming gradually and from some prudential consider- whitefield's life and times. 229 ations ; and knowing also that the continued retaining of these things, which the reforming fathers designed gradually to cast off, has been more stumbling to the friends, than ever it was gaining to the enemies, of the Reformation. Therefore, though Providence at present be making a good use of your being, ac- cording to your light, of that way, yet when you are beginning, as it were, to lay a new foundation, may the Lord, in due time, enable you to guard against such things as may afterwards prove a hinderance to a multitude of tender christians, their holding communion with you, as has been the case formerly. Principiis obsta, is a caution most necessary in many cases. What the great and famous reformer Luther retained from his original Romish education, proved a sad dividing snare among the protestant churches ; and since, by the good hand of God upon you, you are so well occupied in dashing down bigotry and party zeal, I hope the hint I here give you on this head will be the more agreeable. The first and main business, no doubt, is to lay the foundation of saving faith by preaching the pure truths and precious doctrines of the everlasting gospel, which (glory to God) you are so busy about, and we, I hope, are join- ing heart and hand with you. " Very dear Sir, if you and your brethren, whom I honour and esteem in the Lord as his eminent witnesses, shall judge the freedom I have here used already to be rash or unseasonable, the least challenge of this sort from you shall be to me as ex- cellent oil which shall not break my head ; for I think I would choose to suffer many miseries rather than choose to offend you. But, hoping my freedom shall rather be taken as a mark of that kindness of which my heart is full, I proceed to tell you what may be reckoned exceptionable in the last journal, though, at the same time, the wonders of divine grace therein recorded were most savoury to me, and to all I have spoken with upon it, and will, I hope, stir up many to prayer and praise. Your opinion about the business of the attorney has I hear been written of to you already, and therefore I shall say nothing of it. The correction you gave to your opinion of its unlawfulness by adding " at least exceedingly dangerous," satisfied me. Some have thought your love and charity extended a little too 230 whitefield's life and times. far beyond the Scripture rule in some instances ; such as Jour- nal last, page 59th, where you say the quakers' notions about walking and being led by the Spirit, you think are right and good. Unless they be quakers of another stamp than the rest, whose dangerous tenets are inconsistent with the right notion of being led by the Spirit, while, beside other things, they deny justification, by the imputed righteousness of Christ, or his active and passive obedience received by faith, to be the only ground of justification before God; and while thus they cannot receive Jesus Christ, they consequently cannot walk in him, nor be led by his Spirit, who is the Spirit of truth, testifying of Christ according to the revelation made of him in the word, which they contradict. Whatever duties of love you perform towards these men, I will never believe you mean or intend to justify their principles and delusive notions. " There is a passage in the same book, page 83d, that has been improven against us and our secession from the judicato- ries ; which yet, when I read it over again, seems to show to me how much you are of our mind, and that you would take the same course had you been in the same situation. You very justly, I think, express your dissatisfaction with three of your brethren that were driven to deny Christ's visible church upon earth, and show that needless separation from the established church would no doubt be attended with ill consequences ; and you judge of the state of a church, not from the practice of its members, but from its primitive and public constitution. Hence to me it would seem that if even the plurality of its members meeting judicially should contradict its primitive and public constitution, you would see fit to leave them and cleave to the said constitution ; which is the case with us in our secession from the present judicatories of the established church of Scot- land. Such seem to be the defects, it is true, of your eccle- siastical government in England, that, unless in the case of a convocation, you can never boast of an ecclesiastical and ju- dicial cleaving unto, nor complain of a judicial seceding from, the primitive public constitution. But as I make no question but, in that case, you would find (as matters are at present stated in England) there would be defections of the same sort whitefield's life and times. 231 with you as there are with us, and consequently that you would see need to take the same course that we of the Associate Pres- bytery do ; so while you want the same advantages for seeing clearly when it is that defections are become national and judi- cial, and when there is a universal practical departure from the Scriptural principles of the church you profess yourselves to be of, it is a question how far it is consonant with the word of God to maintain close communion with those of that church who are either subverting its primitive public constitution, or openly and avowedly denying the foresaid principles. " Since right communion is founded on union in the truth, at least by some open profession of it, which most of your clergy seem to have little of, while they excommunicate you and your brethren from the use of their churches ; however well ordered this also is in providence for good, yet it discovers them to be what they are. You likewise add that so long as the Articles of the [church of England are agreeable to Scrip- ture, you resolve to preach them up, without either bigotry or party zeal. This I heartily approve of, and this is the case with us also. We preach up and defend, doctrinally and judicially, those articles of the church of Scotland agreeable to the Scrip- tures, which the judicatories are letting go. Hence, I conclude, you seem to be just of our mind as to separation from an established church. We never declared a secession from the church of Scotland, but, on the contrary, only a secession from the judicatories, in their course of defection from the primitive and covenanted constitution, to which we stood also bound by our ordination engagements. And hence, to this day, we never did quit our charges or congregations, to which we were ordain- ed by the imposition of the hands of our several respective pres- byteries, nor did we ever design, unless we were obliged by vio- lence or compulsion, so to do. " As to your sermons, dear Sir, I am ashamed you should mention my approbation of them, as if it were of any signi- ficancy. The general strain of your doctrine I love, admire, and relish, with all my soul, and hope, through the blessing of God, it will do much service. And, as to some particular ex- pressions which I myself could not have used, my love to you. 232 whitefield's life and times. and my view of the countenance of Heaven with you, made me to put such a favourable gloss upon them as to discern no odds betwixt you and us. But since I am using all the kind freedom I can, I shall give you some instances : *' ' Almost Christian/ penult page. — ' We shall then look back on our past sincere and hearty services which have procured us so valuable a reward.' This I could by no means interpret, as if you meant it to the detriment of the doctrine of heaven's being a reward of grace in Christ Jesus, and not of debt to our services, or of eternal life its being the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord. " ' Sermon on Justification by Christ,' at the close. — ' Do but labour to attain that holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord, and then, though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.' 1 could by no means think that this was in- tended any way to thwart the doctrine of free remission of sins by the blood and righteousness of Christ only, which is the sub- ject of the preceding sermon ; or to make sanctification or la- bouring after holiness, which is the fruit and evidence, to be the root, ground, cause, or condition of forgiveness. No ; I take your view to be, that in this way of labouring to attain holiness, people would evidence to themselves and others, that they were pardoned persons in Christ, or that they could not maintain the knowledge or assurance of it but in this way of holiness. " ' Sermon on Phil. iii. 10,' page 14. — ' He has passed from death to life, and shall never, if he stir up the gift of God that is in him, fall into condemnation.' This 'if^h.exe, I did not interpret as favouring the Arminian error against the certainty of the perseverance of saints that are once savingly united to Christ by faith of the operation of God, and passed from death to life ; but rather viewed it as favouring the gospel doctrine concerning the connexion betwixt the means and the end, and the necessity of the one in order to the other, though both are secured by promise to a believer in Christ. " I was told by one, that in some part of your works you speak of justification by the act of believing ; but as I noticed nothing of this in the prints, so I affirmed that you had not so learned Christ, as to put the Arminian to credere, or any thing whitefield's life and times. 233 done by us, or wrought in us, in the room of Christ and his righteousness, or of his obedience and satisfaction, which alone received by faith, I was sure, from your writings, you would own to be the only matter and ground of justification. " Again, though I could not use the English of your Bone Dens, because profane persons here sometimes swear in these terms, yet, as I know it is common among your writers, so I judge nothing is intended by it but a note of astonishment. " Though some of these remarks are perhaps but trifling, and not so material as others of them, I have noted all down, that I may keep nothing back from you that in the least occurred to my mind of any seeming dissonancy betwixt us in words. Yet I judged, that, under various ways of speaking, we meant the same thing, and point at the same end ; and I can say be- fore the Lord, I not only approve of your sermons and journals, but see much matter of praise to God for them, I see much of the glory and majesty of God, and many of the stately steps and goings of our mighty King Jesus in them, and have at times, with tears of joy, adored his name for what he is doing for you and by you, and I pray for the continuance and advancement of that work of God. I rejoice that the Lord's work is going on with you, and that days of power continue. May it do so till all the powers of darkness give way to it, and till every Dagon fall before the ark of God ! " Your way of arguing against the apostatizing clergy of your church in your last sermon, even from the instances drawn out of your service-book, may be to them, I think, arguments ad hominem. May the Lord bless it for their conviction, and for awakening them out of their spiritual lethargy. " When I consider how you and your brethren are stirred up of God to such a remarkable way of witnessing for him in -Eng- land against the corruptions and defections of that church, and when we of the Associate Presbytery have been called forth in a judicial way to witness against the corruptions and defections of the church of Scotland, and both at a juncture when popish powers are combining together against us, and desolating judg- ments are justly threatened from Heaven, — there is perhaps more in the womb of providence relating to our several situa- 234 avhitefield's life and times. tions and successes therein than we are aware of. What he uoth we know not now, hut we may know hereafter. If he be gathering his birds together before a storm, according to the call, Zeph. i. 1 — 3, and Isa. xxvi. 20, 21, glory to him who doth all things well. " We have lately been attending several sacramental solem- nities in our brethren's congregations, where vast multitudes of people were assembled at the tents without doors as well as in the church, and I never found more of the presence of God than at some of these occasions. The Spirit of God was some- times remarkably poured out, and I hope the power of the Lord was present to heal many souls. Enemies gnash with their teeth, as they do with you, but the Lord carries on his work. My brethren salute you most affectionately, they love and respect you in the Lord. Now, very dear Sir, I have in this long letter opened my very heart unto you, and told you the very worst thought that ever entered into it concerning you ; which I could not have done, if it were not filled with love to you. And it loves you because you love Christ, and he loves you and honours you ; and I hope he will spare and honour you more and more, to be a happy instrument in his hand for advancing his kingdom, and pulling down the throne of iniquity. May the weapons of your warfare be more and more mighty through God for that end. I am. Rev. and dear Sir, Yours, most affectionately in our blessed Immanuel, Ralph Erskine. " I salute the worthy Sewards and Wesleys in the Lord." This long and open-hearted epistle afforded great satisfaction to Whiteiield ; as appears from the following extract of his reply : — REV. G. WHITEFIELD, TO MR. RALPH ERSKINE. " Savannah, Jan. 16th, 1740. " Rev. and dear Sir, With much pleasure, though not till last week, I received your kind, affectionate letter. I thank you for it with all my whitefield's life and times, 235 soul, and pray God to reward you for this, and all other your works of faith and labours of love. You may depend on my not being prejudiced against you or your brethren by any evil report. They only endear you to me more and more ; and were your enemies to represent you as black as hell, I should think you were the more glorious in the sight of Heaven. Your sweet criticisms and remarks on my journal and sermons were exceedingly acceptable and very just. I assure you, dear Sir, I am fully convinced of the doctrine of election, free justification, and final perseverance. My observations on the quakers were only intended for those particular persons with whom I then conversed. The tenets of the quakers, in general, ahoxxt justiji- cation, I take to be false and unscriptural. Your adversaries need take no advantage against you by any thing I have written, for I think it every minister's duty to declare against the cor- ruptions of that church to which they belong, and not to look upon those as true members of their communion, who deny its public constitutions. This is your case in Scotland and ours in England. I see no other way for us to act at present than to go on preaching the truth as it is in Jesus ; and then, if our brethren cast us out, God will direct us to that course which is most conducive to his glory and his people's good. I think I have but one objection against your proceedings — your in- sisting only on presbyterian government, exclusive of all other ways of worshipping God. Your welfare is much upon my heart ; and, as I am enabled, I make mention of you in my prayers. Your weak unworthy brother, and fellow-labourer in Christ, George Whitefield." In a letter of nearly the same date, addressed to Mr, Gilbert Tennent, Whitefield, alluding to the above communication, says, " Since my arrival here, I have received a sweet, endearing, and instructive letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine." About two months, however, prior to the receipt of this " en- dearing " letter, Whitefield had despatched three letters from Philadelphia ; one to the Associate Presbytery, a second to 236 whitefield's life and times, Ebenezer Erskine, and a third to Ralph ; m all of which he solicits information about the constitution and covenants of the Scotch kirk, and especially about the Cameronians : a bishop having called the seceders by that name, and thus made him somewhat jealous of their spirit. In subsequent letters, also, he repeats his determination to be " quite neuter " on the sub- ject of church government and reform in Scotland. Thus, never were men more prepared to love and welcome each other, than Whitefield and the Erskines. He thought the Associate Presbytery " a little too hard upon " him, and Ralph too much on their side, in pressing him to "join tJiem wholly ;" but, otherwise, he had great confidence in both brothers, and they in him. On his arrival in Edinburgh, he accordingly resisted all applications made to him to preach there before he went to Dunfermline, although they were made to him by persons of the first distinction in the city. In a letter to a friend, he says, " I determined to give the Erskines the ^rst offer of my poor mi- nistrations, as they gave me the first invitation to Scotland." Lett. 337, vol. 1. Ralph says of him, " he came to me over the belly of vast opposition." Whitefield says, " I was received very lovinghj at Dunfermline." So far the interview was mutually gratifying. Whitefield was surprised and delighted when he preached in the meeting-house, to an immense assembly, by the rustling of a host of Bibles all at once, as he gave out his text : " a scene," he says, " I never was witness to before ! " and Ralph was equally pleased with the sermon and the preacher. He wrote next day to Ebenezer thus ; " The Lord is evidently with him ;" and to Adam Gibb, (whose spirit seems to have been suspicious of Whitefield from the first,) " I have many pleasant things to say of him :" " I see the Lord is with him." Indeed, Ralph did every thing, wise and kind, in order to bring on a happy meeting between Whitefield and the Presbytery. He prepared Ebenezer for this by informing him, that White- field had " owned " to him, on the subject of his ordination, " that he would not have it again in tliat way for a thousand worlds ; but, then, he knew no other way." Fraser^s Life of R. Erskine, p. 326. To Gibb he wrote, " He designs and desires to meet whitefield's life and times. 237 with the brethren. I expect he will call for you." Whilst Ralph thus conciliated the brethren, he was equally candid in telling them what they had to expect : " As to his preaching, he de- clares he can refuse no c 11 to preach, whoever gives it : were it a Jesuit or a Mahometan, he would embrace it for testifying against them." — " I find " (to Gibb) " his light leads him to preach, even at the call of those against whom he can freely tes- tify. I hope you will inform Mair and Hutton." Fraser, 327. Such were the preliminary steps to an interview and negocia- tion, which Dr. Gillies (himself of the church party) has ab- ruptly introduced, and hastily dismissed, " as a conference to set Whitetield right about church government, and the solemn league and covenant." It certainly was about these points; but as certainly not for the sake of these points, apart from the spi- ritual purposes they were intended to answer. Besides, neither the church government, nor the solemn league and covenant, were the inventions or the peculiarities of the Secession. Whe- ther good, bad, or indifferent things, they were the platform of the kirk of Scotland. Willison of Dundee, sustained by a num- ber of the clergy, testified as loudly at the time against " de- nying the lawfulness or obligation of our national covenant engagements," as Erskine and his brethren. Striitherss Hist. Scotland. And who does not see, that Dr. Gillies and his party, had they been negociating with Whitefield to join them, would just have begun as the Associate Presbytery did, by setting him " right, about the same points ? " Indeed, Willison of Dundee did press the same points upon Whitefield, by letter ; and re- ceived from him much the same answer he gave to the seceders : " I wish you would not trouble yourself or me, in writing about the corruptions of the church of England. You seem not satis- fied, methinks, unless I openly renounce the church of England, and declare myself a presbyterian. Your letter gave me some little concern. I thought it breathed a sectarian spirit, to which I hoped dear Mr. W. was quite averse. I have shown my free- dom in communicating with the church of Scotland, and in bap- tizing children in their own way. / can go no further.''^ Lett. p. 429. Thus the Secession were not the only sticklers for presbyte- 238 whitefield's life and times. rianism. They made it, however, what the clergy did not, the condition of employing Whitefield. His own account of the negociation with the Presbytery, although graphic, is rather too humoursome for the gravity of history, when the facts affect a body of christians. Whilst, therefore, I admire the candour of Fraser in giving Whitefield's half-playful letter first, I prefer to give the Presbytery's own narrative first ; because the transac- tion involves their character most, and because their subsequent attacks on Whitefield were far more inexcusable than their treat- ment of him at Dunfermline. The official minutes of this conference are, I am afraid, irre- coverably lost. That they did exist is, however, evident from a letter to Gibb, from Ralph Erskine, requesting a copy of them. " I expected before this time a copy of the conversation we had with Mr. Whitefield in this place. I have some occasions that require my having it. Therefore, please send me, if you can, a copy with this post." Fraser s Life. This letter makes it highly probable, that the following ori- ginal memorandum, written about the time by Ebenezer Erskine, is substantially correct, so far as it goes. It was copied verba- tim from the short-hand characters of Erskine, in a note-book recently discovered by Fraser. " Here foUoios an account of a conversation held with Mr. Whitefield at Dunfermline, Wednes- day, Aug. 5th, 1741. The ministers of the Presbytery present were Messrs. Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine, Mr. Moncrieff, Mr. Gibb, Messrs. Thomas and James Mair, Mr. Clarkson ; and two elders, namely, Mr. James Wardlaw, and Mr. John MowbrayJ'^ " We, being advertised to be here this day, by a letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine, who had formed the tryst with Mr. White- field ; Mr. Ralph's letter bearing, that Mr, Whitefield desired the conference, &c. and that he had yielded so far to him, as to his episcopal ordination, that he would not take it again for a thousand worlds ; but at the time he knew no better. " Upon Tuesday night, when we arrived at the place, we waited upon Mr. W. at Mr. Erskine's house ; where and when we had some conversation about several things relating to the state of affairs in the church. " Wednesday forenoon, the ministers and elders aliove men- whitefield's life and times, 239 tioned, met with Mr. Whitefield, in consequence of a letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine, desiring they would have a conference with him : and they having met as above, a motion was made that Mr. Ebenezer Erskine pray before they entered upon conversa- tion. As Mr. Whitefield showed an inclination to proceed to a conference about toleration for a time, it was proposed, that, seeing toleration of all sects by a church is an opinion of his, as supported by some scriptures, — it was thought fit to consider, what is that form of government Christ has laid down in his word ? And, agreeably to this, Mr. Whitefield put the question. Whether presbyterian government be that which is agreeable to the pattern shown in the mount ? And supposing that it is, — if it excluded a toleration of such as independents, anabaptists, and episcopalians, among whom are good men ? " Mr. Ebenezer Erskine said to him, ' Sir, God has made you an instrument of gathering a great multitude of souls to the faith and profession of the gospel of Christ, throughout England and in foreign parts : and now it is fit — that you should be con- sidering how that body is to be organized and preserved ; which cannot be done without following the example of Paul and Bar- nabas, who, when they had gathered churches by preaching the gospel, visited them again, and ordained over them elders in every city ; which you cannot do alone, without some two or three met together in a judicative capacity, in the name of the Lord.' " Unto all which Mr. Whitefield replied, (how like him !) that he reckoned it his present duty to go on in preaching the gospel, without proceeding to any such work. " It was urged, that it might please the Lord to call him (by death) ; and in that case, there being none other, the flock might be scattered, and fall into the hands of grievous wolves, without any to care for them. He said, that he being of the communion of the church of England, had none to join him in that work ; and that he had no freedom to separate from the church of England, until they did cast him out or excommunicate him." Here, unhappily, Erskine's memorandum closes ; and, to his honour, it contains no reflections upon the spirit of Whitefield, although he said some sharp things, which must have been not 240 whitefield's life and times. a little trying to the patience of stanch presbyterians. Neither Whitefield nor the Presbytery, however, were so calm as they appear in this still-life picture ; Dr. Jamieson himself being the judge. When he animadverted upon Rowland Hill's " Journal of a Tour in Scotland," he said, " That, after a good deal of rea- soning (there was some railing too) as to a particular form of church government being prescribed in Scripture, Mr. White- field, laying his hand on his heart, said, ' I do not find it here.' Mr. A. MoncriefF, who was of a warm temper, giving a rap on the Bible, which was lying on the table, said, ' But I find it here.' " The Doctor adds, " On this, if I mistake not, the con- versation terminated ; and it has still been asserted, that the proper ground of their giving up any connexion with Mr. White- field was — his denial that any particular form of church govern- ment was of divine authority ; and declaring his resolution to maintain this in his public ministrations." So thought and wrote Dr. Jamieson, who was not there : not so, however, did Whitefield think or write. I keep out of the question still, his playful letter, as it is called, because Fraser says, that " it has been eagerly appealed to by writers, who wished to expose the Associate Presbytery to ridicule and contempt." Besides, it was a letter to Noble of New York, in answer to one about a new synod by the Tennents ; and thus had a purpose to answer in America, which warranted, what Fraser calls, " its indications " of Whitefield's " constitutional vein for humour." None of these objections, if they be such, lie against the following letters ; which were written " weeping," and to men who knew the facts of the Dunfermline conference. Now, on the eighth day after it, Whitefield wrote thus to one of the sons of Ebenezer Erskine, at Stirling : " The treatment I met with from the Associate Presbytery was not altogether such as I expected. It grieved me, as much as it did you. I could scarce refrain from bursting into a flood of tears. I wish all were like-minded with your honoured father and uncle : matters would not then be carried on with so high a hand. Such violent methods — such a narrow way of acting — can never be the way to promote and enlarge the kingdom of our blessed Jesus. " It surely must be wrong to forbid even our hearing — those whitefield's life and times. 241 who love our Lord Jesus in sincerity, and have also been owned of him. Christ would not have done so. " Supposing the scheme of government for which the Asso- ciate Presbytery contend to be Scriptural ; yet, forbearance and long-suiFering is to be exercised towards such as may differ from them. I am verily persuaded there is no such form of govern- ment prescribed in the book of God, as excludes a toleration of all other forms whatsoever. Were the Associate Presbytery scheme to take effect, they must, out of conscience, if they acted consistently, restrain and grieve, if not persecute, many of God's children, who could not possibly come in to their measures ; and I doubt not but their present violent methods, together with the corruptions of the Assembly, will cause many to become independents, and set up particular churches of their own. This was the effect of Archbishop Laud's acting with so high a hand : and whether it be presbytery or episcopacy, if managed in the same manner, it will be productive of the same effects. Blessed be God, I have not so learned Christ ! " Lett. 347. Would any man in his senses have written thus to David Er- skine, had there been nothing more violent at Dunfermline than MoncriefFs rap on the table ; or had nothing been insisted upon but the divine authority of presbytery ? This letter both im- plies and asserts the avowal of intolerance, on the part of all but the Erskines : and even they wanted to shackle Whitefield with all the links of their own chain of exclusiveness. Ralph forgot himself so far, as to suspect and insinuate, in a letter, that Whitefield temporized for the sake of the orphans. This fact does not appear in the " previous jottings, which show the scope of that letter ;" (Eraser ;) but it appears in the dignified and in- dignant answer : " Indeed, dear Sir, you mistake if you think I temporize on account of the orphans. Be it far from me ! I abhor the very thought of it. I proceed now, — just as I have done, ever since I came out in the ministry." Lett. 350. Even the "jottings" charge Whitefield (in " sorrow " indeed) with " coming harnessed with a resolution, to stand out against every thing that might be said against ;" and with not " lying open to light," but " declining conversation on that head." Now, whatever this mean, the answer is unequivocal : R 242 whitefield's life and times, " I thank you for your kind letter. I believe it proceeded from love ; but, as yet, I cannot think the solemn league and cove- nant any way binding upon me. You seem to think, I am not open to light. That I may give you satisfaction on that head, I am willing to confer with Mr. W at Perth, on Thurs- day, Sept. 3rd." Ihid. Whitefield takes no notice of the charge of " coming harnessed " to the conference. Perhaps Erskine softened it in the letter. If this was not the case, then White- field did not condescend to notice it. Something equivalent, however, was in the letter. Erskine says of it, to Gibb, " I have sent Mr. Whitefield this day a letter, wherein I used much plainness with him, on account of his declining conversation with us upon church government, and upon the hrfluence I dreaded he is now under ; — although all my plainness was in the most kindly way." Fraser, p. 335. Eraser refers this " influence and harnessing " to " prejudices infused into Whitefield's mind against the ministers of the Se- cession, and the cause in which they had embarked, at the very moment of his first landing in Scotland." In proof of this, he quotes the fact, that Whitefield was '^ met and entertained at Edinburgh, by Dr. Webster and some of his brethren ; from whom he learned the state of church prejudices and parties in Scotland." There can be no doubt of the truth of this. It is, however, equally true, that he found the Associate Presbytery to be ?i^ intolerant as their enemies had represented them : and if any thing worse was said against them, in his hearing, it did not prevent him from visiting them, nor from treating them as brethren in Christ. Even in his playful letter (which I now subjoin) there is as much kindliness as humour. TO MR. THOMAS NOBLE, AT NEW YORK. " Edinburgh, Aug. 8th, 1741. " My dear brother, I have written you several letters ; and I rejoice to hear that the work of the Lord prospers in the hands of Messrs. Ten- nents, &c. ; am glad they intend to meet in a synod by them- selves. Their catholic spirit will do good. The Associate Presbytery here are so confined, that they will not so much as whitefield's life and times. 243 hear me preach, unless I only will join with them. Mr. Ralph E , indeed, did hear me, and went up with me into the pulpit of the Canoncjate church. The people were ready to shout for joy ; but, I believe, it gave offence to his associates. I met most of them, according to appointment, on Wednesday last — a set of grave, venerable men ! They soon agreed to form themselves into a presbytery, and were proceeding to choose a moderator. — I asked them for what purpose ? They answered, to discourse, and set me right, about the matter of church go- vernment, and the solemn league and covenant. I replied, they might save themselves that trouble, for I had no scruples about it ; and that settling church government, and preaching about the solemn league and covenant, was not my plan. I then told them something of my experience, and how I was led out into my present way of acting. One in particular said, he was deeply affected ; and the dear Mr. E desired they would have patience with me, for that, having been born and bred in Eng- land, and never studied the point, I could not be supposed to be so perfectly acquainted with the nature of their covenants. One, much warmer than the rest, immediately replied, ' that no in- dulgence was to be shown me ; that England had revolted most with respect to church government ; and that I, born and edu- cated there, could not but be acquainted with the matter now in debate.' I told him, I had never yet made the solemn league and covenant the object of my study, being too busy about mat- ters, as I judged, of greater importance. Several replied, that every pin of the tabernacle was precious. — I said, that in every building there were outside and inside workmen ; that the latter, at present, was my province ; that if they thought themselves called to the former, they might proceed in their own way, and I should proceed in mine. I then asked them seriously, what they would have me to do ; the answer was, that I was not desired to subscribe immediately to the solemn league and co- venant ; but to preach only for them till I had further light. I asked, why only for them ? Mr. Ralph E said, ' they were the Lord's people.' I then asked, whether there were no other Lord's people but themselves ? and supposing all others were the devil's people, they certainly had more need to be R 2 244 vvhitefield's life and times. preached to, and therefore I was more and more determined to go out into the highways and hedges ; and that if the pope him- self would lend me his pulpit, I would gladly proclaim the right- eousness of Jesus Christ therein. Soon after this, the company broke up ; and one of these, otherwise venerable men, immedi- ately went into the meeting-house, and preached upon these words, ' Watchman, what of the night ? Watchman, what of the night ? The watchman said. The morning cometh, and also the night, if ye will inquire, inquire ye ; return, come.' I attended ; but the good man so spent himself in the former part of his ser- mon, in talking against prelacy, the common-prayer book, the surplice, the rose in the hat, and such like externals, that when he came to the latter part of his text, to invite poor sinners to Jesus Christ, his breath was so gone, that he could scarce be heard. What a pity that the last was not first, and the first last ! The consequence of all this was, an open breach. I re- tired, I wept, I prayed, and after preaching in the fields, sat down and dined with them, and then took a final leave. At table, a gentlewoman said, she had heard that I had told some people, that the Associate Presbytery were building a Babel. I said, ' Madam, it is quite true ; and I believe the Babel will soon fall down about their ears :' but enough of this. Lord, what is man, what the best of men, but men at the best ? I think I have now seen an end of all perfection. Our brethren in America, blessed be God, have not so learned Christ. Be pleased to inform them of this letter." Now, certainly, had it not been for the use made of this letter by the enemies of the Secession, — who interpreted the prophecy, and wielded the wit of it wantonly, — it requires no apology. It is as true as it is graphic ; not, perhaps, to the very letter of the scene, but to the spirit of it. It just embodies, in lively forms, the very ideas suggested by the preceding details. Even the prophecy in it was sufficiently fulfilled, to accredit the foresight of Whitefield. Enough of what was " Babel " in the synod, soon fell down " about their ears." The division of the Seces- sion, in 1747, into burghers and antiburghers, with the bitter controversy it originated, was more than enough to justify the whitefield's life and times. 245 prediction. Even Fraser applies to that sharp contention fa- ther Paul's proverb, that " In verbal contentions, the smallness of the difference often nourishes the obstinacy of the parties." It was not, therefore, necessary to rebut Whitefield's prophecy, even if it was uttered with " oracular solemnity," by the fact, that the edifice of the Secession " has now lasted for almost a century," and was not " so obnoxious to the frowns of Heaven, as that good man imagined." Fraser^s E. Erskine. Had that " good man " seen it as it now subsists, he would have been as ready as Fraser or Jamieson to say, " the Secession church has become a fair, strong, and extensive fabric, — in no great danger of soon tumbling into ruins." Ibid. The bad use made of this far-famed letter, by Sir Harry Mon- crieff and others, in order to ridicule the Secession, and carica- ture its venerable founders, has tempted Fraser to find more fault with the letter than it is really chargeable with, or than he could justify. Hence he has quoted from a Review of Sir Harry's Life in " The Christian Repository," the unchristian assertion, that " no one, who knew any thing of Ralph Erskine, will for a moment believe that he would have said of the Se- ceders, * we are the Lord's people.' " It is believed by many who know and believe that Ralph Erskine, a year before this time, and many times in later years, said, " We are far from thinki'ng all are Christ's friends that join with us, or that all are His enemies that do not. No, indeed ! This would be to cast off all that have Christ's image — unless they have our image too." Fraser. There is so much candour characterizes Eraser's version of these transactions, that I am unwilling to criticize his narrative. It is, however, impossible to agree with him in his conclusion — " that considerate and unbiassed judges will see cause, on the whole, to conclude that Mr. Whitefield and the Associate Pres- bytery parted in a manner, which has left no credit to either party." Neither the manner nor the spirit of Whitefield's part- ing reflects any discredit upon him. In Edinburgh the issue of this negociation was waited for with more than curiosity. The clergy welcomed Whitefield's return to their pulpits in the city as a triumph to the kirk : and 246 whitefield's life and times. it was a triumph at the time. As such, however, he cared no- thing about it. He forgot, equally, the joy of the kirk, and the mortification of the chapel, in seeking the triumphs of the cross. Whilst churchmen were pluming themselves on their gain, and seceders trying to despise their loss, he was singing with Paul, " Now thanks be unto God, who always causeth us to triumph' in Christ, and maketh manifest by us the savour of His know- ledge in every place." It was manifested in Edinburgh, and became " the savour of life unto life " to very many in all ranks. For some weeks he preached twice or thrice every day in the churches, and renewed in the orphan-house park the scenes of Moorfields and Blackheath. He obtained also £500 for his orphans, in money or goods. The latter was a timely help to him. How much he felt this will be best told by himself. In a letter to Mr. Habersham, he says, " O my dear friend, how faithful is the Lord Jesus ! He has enabled me to pay my brother, and Mr. Noble's bill of £300. I have sent you £70 worth of different sorts of goods to be dis- posed of, and the money applied to the orphan-house. I have sent also six hundred yards of cloth, a present of my own, to make the boys and girls gowns and coats. You will find some damask table cloths, which I desire you will sell, they being too good, in my opinion, for our use." Whitefield could not appreciate the moral value of this last gift; but all Scotchmen well understand the sacrifice made by Scotchwomen, in thus contributing damask nappery ! It was next to parting with their wedding ring. Had he known this, he would not have sold the table cloths I Such presents in money or goods were new things in Edin- burgh then, and, of course, misrepresented by many. Some were alarmed, lest he should " impoverish the country ! " His answer to all insinuations of this kind was, " I value them not in the least. My largest donations are from the rich and sub- stantial. The mites which the lower sort of the people have given, will not prevent them from paying their debts, nor impo- verish their families." When, however, it was proposed to make a contribution in Edinburgh for himself, although privately, he changed his tone, and said, — " I know nothing of — and will not whitefield's life and times. 247 admit of any such thing ! I make no purse. What I have I give away. ' Poor, yet making^ many rich^ shall be my motto still." Letter. Whitefield's own accounts of the success of the gospel in Edinburgh at this time, although ^a;w/;?^, are not exaggerated. Dr. Muir, who witnessed the eifect, says, " Upon the whole, we hope there is such a flame kindled, as shall never be extin- guished. The ministers are learning to speak with new tongues." Edin. Memoir. The only drawback upon the fol- lowing accounts is, an appearance of vanity, when the nobility are mentioned ; and of flattery, when they are addressed. Dr. Southey says truly, that " Wesley would not have written in this strain :" but it is equally true, that Jeremy Taylor, and Dr. Donne, wrote both letters and dedications quite as fulsome, and more servile ; and which " might well provoke disgust and in- dignation, were not the real genius and piety of the writers be- yond all doubt." Southey s Wesley, p. 360, vol. 2. To Habersham, Whitefield writes from Edinburgh thus, " God is pleased to bless my ministrations here in an abundant manner. The little children in the hospitals are much wrought upon. Saints have been stirred up and edified, and many others, I believe, translated from darkness to light. The good that has been done is inexpressible. I am intimate with three no- blemen, and several ladies of quality, who have a great liking for the things of God. I am now writing in an earl's house, (Melville,) surrounded by fine furniture ; but, glory be to free grace, my soul is in love only with Jesus." To Cennick he wrote, " This day Jesus enabled me to preach seven times ; notwithstanding, I am as fresh as when I arose in the morning. Both in the church and park the Lord was with us. The girls in the hospital were exceedingly affected. One of the mistresses told me, that she is now awakened in the morning by the voice of prayer and praise ; and the master of the boys says, that they meet together every night to sing and pray. The presence of God at the old people's hospital was really very wonderful. The Holy Spirit seemed to come down like a rushing mighty wind. The mourning of the people was like the weeping in the valley of Hadadrimmon. Every day I 248 whitefield's life and times. hear of some fresh good wrought by the power of Gotl. I scarce know how to leave Scotland." Thus the rich and the poor, the young and the old, not only heard him gladly, but melted down alike under his preaching ; and that — in Scotland, where the melting mood is not predo- minant. And then, Whitefield's doctrine was not new to them as a people, as it was to the English, Why, therefore, do we see nothing of this kind now, upon a large scale, in either Eng- land or Scotland ? The gospel is widely and faithfully preach- ed in both ; but not with remarkable success in either. This is not satisfactorily explained by saying, that a greater blessing attended Whitefield's ministry than follows ours. The fact is, that the outpouring of the Spirit on his audiences was pre- ceded by an unction of the Spirit on his own soul, which we hardly understand, and still less cultivate. What a heart he had in Edinburgh ! He does not, indeed, always describe its emotions in good taste ; but, alas for the man, and especially the minister, who can read the bursts and outpourings of George Whitefield's heart, without shame, or without feeling his own heart hum to share them ! " Night and day Jesus fills me with his love." — " The love of Christ strikes me quite dumb." — " I walk continually in the comforts of the Holy Ghost," — " My heart is melted down with the love of Jesus," — " I de- spair not of seeing Scotland like New England," — " I want a thousand tongues to set oif the great Redeemer's praise," — " I am daily waiting for the coming of the Son of God," — " I every morning feel my fellowship with Christ, and he gives me all joy and peace in believing." — " The sight I have of God by faith ravishes my soul : how I shall be ravished when I see him face to face ! " — " I would leap my seventy years, and fly into His presence," All this is as burning as abrupt. He lived, and moved, and had his being, in this warm and pure element ; and thus preached, not only in dependence on the Holy Spirit, but " in demonstration of the Spirit and in power." Thus the holy oil which anointed so many under him, had first been poured on his own head, I have endeavoured to illustrate this fact in another part of the volume. In the mean time, however, I can- not quit this hint, without solemnly reminding myself and whitefield's life and times. 249 others, that we can be Whitefields in unction, although not in energy or eloquence ; we can walk with God as he did, although unable to " go about" doing good upon his scale. The results of his first visit to Edinburgh are thus summed up by himself : " Glory be to God ; he is doing great things here. I walk in the continual sunshine of his countenance. Never did I see so many Bibles, nor people look into them with such attention, when I am expounding. Plenty of tears flow from hearers' eyes. I preach twice daily, and expound at pri- vate houses at night ; and am employed in speaking to souls under distress great part of the day. Every morning I have a constant levee of wounded souls, many of whom are quite slain by the law. I have a lecture in the fields, attended not only by the common people, but persons of great rank. I have reason to think some of the latter sort are coming to Jesus. I am only afraid, lest people should idolize the instrument, and not look enough to Jesus, in whom alone I desire to glory." Scotland, and especially Edinburgh, owes much to this visit. Any check it gave to the Secession for a time, was more than counterbalanced by the impulse it gave to the establishment. The evangelical clergy had as much need of a commanding ally, as the Associate Presbytery ; and, in general, as well de- served the weight and fame of Whitefield's name. That name drew on their side some of the peerage, who would never have followed him into a chapel ; and thus strengthened the hands of " the wild men^'' (as the evangelical party were called,) when they were but weak. Edinburgh should never forget this. Next to Knox, Whitefield deserves a monument on the Calton Hill, as the second reformer of the metropolis. But for him, the moderate party would have held the ascendant in it. I do therefore hope that, at least, no Scottish champion of the gos- pel will imitate some in England, by trying to prove that White- field had little or no influence upon the revival of evangelical preaching in the establishment. If any do try there, I can only say, as I do here, — their fathers knew better, and posterity will laugh at them. Venn's Life of Venn. As a counterpart to the sermon against Whitefield in the meeting-house, by one of the Associate Presbytery, the follow- 250 whitefield's life and times. ing scene in the kirk at Aberdeen may instruct as well as amuse. Dr. Southey has told the story well ; but Whitefield tells it better. " Aberdeen, Oct. 9, 1741. At my first coming here, things looked a little gloomy ; for the magistrates had been so prejudiced against me by one Mr. Bisset, that when ap- plied to, they refused me the use of the kirk -yard to preach in. This Mr. Bisset is colleague with one Mr. O. at whose repeated invitation I came hither. Though colleagues of the same con- gregation, they are very different in their natural tempers. The one is, what they call in Scotland, of a siceet-blooded, the other of a choleric, disposition. Mr. B, is neither a seceder, nor quite a kirk -man ; having great fault to find with both. " Soon after my arrival, dear Mr. O. took me to pay my re- spects to him. He was prepared for it ; and immediately pull- ed out a paper, containing a number of insignificant questions, which I had neither time nor inclination to answer. The next morning, it being Mr. O.'s turn, I lectured and preached. The magistrates were present. The congregation was very large, and light and Ufejied all around. " In the afternoon, Mr. B, officiated. I attended. He begun his prayers as usual ; but in the midst of them, naming me by name, he entreated the Lord to forgive the dishonour that had been put upon him, by my being suffered to preach in that pul- pit. And that all might know what reason he had to put up such a petition, — about the middle of his sermon, he not only urged that I was a curate of the church of England, (had Whitefield been an archbishop or bishop, Bisset would have hegitn his prayers against him,) but also quoted a passage or two out of my first printed sermons, which he said were grossly Arminian. " Most of the congregation seemed surprised and chagrined, especially his good-natured colleague, Mr. O. ; who, immediately after sermon, and without consulting me in the least, stood up, and gave notice that Mr. Whitefield would preach in about half an hour. The interval being so short, the magistrates returned into the sessions-house, and the congregation patiently waited — big with expectation of hearing my resentment. " At the time appointed I went up, and took no other notice whitefield's life and times. 251 of the good man's ill-timed zeal, than to observe in some part of my discourse, that if the good old gentleman had seen some of my later writings, wherein I had corrected several of my former mistakes, he would not have expressed himself in such strong terms. " The people being thus diverted from controversy with man, were deeply impressed with what they heard from the word of God. All was hushed, and more than solemn ! On the mor- row, the magistrates sent for me, expressed themselves quite concerned at the treatment I had met with, and begged me to accept the freedom of the city. But of this enough." Dr. Southey justly says, "this triumph Whitefield obtained, as much by that perfect self-command which he always possessed in public, as by his surpassing oratory." Bisset's hostility did not end here, nor confine itself to White- field. Next year he assailed the Scotch clergymen, who had employed the English curate ; and charged them with caressing Whitefield, " as it would seem, to hreak the seceders." Bissefs Letter on Communion wWi. a Priest of the Clmrch of England. Thus it was not the Associate Synod alone who attributed the friendship of the kirk for Whitefield to selfish motives. One thing occurred in Edinburgh which pleased Whitefield very much. After preaching in the orphan-house park, a large company came to salute him. Amongst the rest a fine portly quaker took him by the hand, and said, " Friend George, I am as thou art. I am for bringing all to the life and power of the ever-living God ; and, therefore, if thou wilt not quarrel with me about my hat, I will not quarrel with thee about thy gown." I know some ex-quakers who would say, that Whitefield would not have been so much pleased, if he had known the mystery ot the hat in quakerism. CHAPTER X. WHITEFIELD AND THE DISSENTERS. Neither the revivals in Scotland, nor the riots in England, won for Whitefield the sympathy of the London ministers. Bradbury lampooned him ; Barker sneered at him ; Dr. Watts was silent; and Coward's trustees were insolent to Dr. Dod- dridge, because he gave him some countenance at Northampton. There was a deeper cause for all this than their dread of his enthusiasm. They were then in treaty with some of the bishops, in order to revive that scheme of Comprehension, which Bates, Manton, and Baxter tried to negociate with Stillingfleet ; but which Clarendon, even whilst in banishment, had influence enough at home to defeat, although the bill in favour of it was drawn up by Lord Chief Baron Hale. TiUotson''s Life. The Clarendon party were not dead nor idle, when the sub- ject of the comprehension was revived by Chandler and Dod- dridge with Archbishop Herring. Warburton, who knew them well, foretold the issue thus, even when the prospect was bright- est before curtain ; " I can tell you of certain science, that not the least alteration will be made in the ecclesiastical system." Letter to Doddridge. The progress of this affair will explain both the shyness and the sharpness of the London ministers towards Whitefield. They could not have negociated with him and the archbishop at the same time. Indeed, they had no wish to be identified with any of his measures. It belongs to history to tell this matter gravely : I prefer the graphic sketch of its origin and progress, given in the following letters. The first letter is from Barker to Doddridge. " As whitefield's life and times. 253 for the comprehension, so much talked of in town and country, the utmost of the matter is this : — Mr. Chandler, while his meeting-place was shut up, made a visit to his friends at Nor- wich ; and there happened to hear the bishop give a charge to his clergy, which he thought not very candid. One expression appeared to him invidious, viz. that the heads of the rebellion were presbyterians ; as appeared by those lords in the Tower sending for presbyterian confessors. Upon Mr. Chandler's re- turn to London, he wrote a letter to Dr. Gooch, complaining of his charge, and particularly of that expression. This letter was written very handsomely, and it brought a very civil, respectful answer. After Gooch came to town. Chandler, at his desire, made him a visit, in which they had much discourse ; and amongst other things, there was talk of a comprehension. This visit was followed, at Gooch's desire, with another, when the bishop of Salisbury was present, who soon discovered his shrewd- ness, but said, ' Our church, Mr. Chandler, consists of three parts, — doctrine, discipline, and ceremonies : as to the last, they should be left indiiFerent, as they are agreed on all hands to be : as to the second, our discipline,' said he, ' is so bad, that no one knows how, or where, to mend it : and as to the jfirst, what is your objection ? ' He answered, ' Your Articles, my Lord, must be expressed in Scripture words, and the x\thanasian creed be discarded.' Both the bishops answered, they wished they were rid of that creed, and had no objection to restoring the Articles into Scripture words ; ' but what shall we do about reordination ? " To this Mr. Chandler made such a reply as he judged proper ; but, I think, granted more than he ought : he said none of us would renounce his presbyterian ordination ; but if their Lord- ships meant only to impose their hands on us, and by that rite recommend us to public service in their society or constitution, that, perhaps, might be submitted to : but when he told me this, I said, ' perhaps not — no, by no means ; that being, in my opi- nion, a virtual renunciation of our ordination, which I appre- hend not only as good but better than theirs.' The two bishops, at the conclusion of the visit, requested Mr. Chandler to wait on the archbishop, which he did, and met Gooch there by accident. The archbishop received him well, and being told by Gooch 254 whitefield's life and times. what Chandler and he had been talking on, viz. a comprehen- sion, said, A very good thing ; he wished it with all his heart ; and the rather, because this was a time which called upon all good men to unite against infidelity and immorality, which threatened universal ruin ; and added, he was encouraged to hope, from the piety, learning, and moderation of many dissent- ers, that this was a proper time to make the attempt. But, may it please your Grace, said Gooch, Mr. Chandler says the Articles must be altered into the words of Scripture. And why not ? replied the archbishop ; it is the impertinences of men, thrusting their words into articles instead of the words of God, that have occasioned most of the divisions in the christian church, from the beginning of it to this day. The archbishop added, that the bench of bishops seemed to be of his mind ; that he should be glad to see Mr. Chandler again, but was then oblig- ed to go to court. And this is all. I have smiled at some who seem mightily frighted at this affair, are very angry with Mr. Chandler, and cry out, ' We won't be comprehended — we won't be comprehended.'' One would think, they imagined it was like being electrified, or inoculated for the small pox. But most of your fault-finders, I apprehend, are angry with Mr. Chandler, for an expression he used in the second visit. When urging the ex- pediency of expressing the Articles in Scripture words, he said, it was for others, not himself, he suggested this, his conscience not being disturbed by them as they now stood, for he freely owned himself a moderate Calvinist." Six months after this, Doddridge himself had an interview with Herring, and found, at first, that although the archbishop had " most candid sentiments of his dissenting brethren, he had no great zeal for attempting any thing in order to introduce them into the church ; wisely foreseeing the difficulties with which it might be attended." Doddridge's Letters. He was not likely to have zeal for it. He had not zeal even for the orthodox of his own church. Jortin concludes his formal and inflated sketch of him thus ; " he was willing to think the hest of other people's principles." What this means, may, perhaps, be guessed from the primate's letters to Duncombe ; of which, the follow- ing is one specimen : " I ahhor every tendency to the Trinity whitefield's life and times. 255 controversy. The manner in which it is always conducted is the disgrace and ruin of Christianity." When Doddridge saw that the comprehension scheme, as proposed by Chandler, did not suit Herring, he suggested " a sort of medium between our present state, and that of a perfect coalition." " I mentioned," he says, " acknowledging our churches as unschismatical ; by permitting their clergy to offi- ciate amongst us, if desired, and dissenting ministers to officiate in churches. It struck him as a new and important thought. He told me, more than once, that I had suggested — what he should lay up in his mind for further consideration." Next year, however, Doddridge learned from Sir Thomas Birch, that, although " several of the bishops endeavoured to have White's Third Letter (see Towgood) suppressed, as un- friendly to comprehension, Sherlock insisted upon having all objections brought out at once." Good Doddridge, however, still cherished hopes for his own plan ; and, accordingly, culti- vated intimacy with the heads of the church so closely, that the very men who censured him for risking the comprehension, at first, by countenancing Whitefield, came at last to insinuate that he paid more court " to eminent members of the establishment," than was prudent. However this may be, he rejoiced with Lady Huntingdon, at the same time, that " the mighty, the noble, the wise, and the rich," assembled at her house, " to hear White- field." How Doddridge acted and was censured, in reference to Whitefield, when the vision of a comprehension dawned upon some of the leading dissenters of 1743, will be best told by the secretary of Coward's trustees, Nathaniel Neal, Esq. of Million Bank. " It was with the utmost concern that I received the inform- ation of Mr. Whitefield's having preached last week in your pulpit, and that I attended the meeting of Coward's trustees this day, when that matter was canvassed, and that I now find myself obliged to apprize you of the very great uneasiness which your conduct herein has occasioned them. " The many characters you sustain with so much honour, and in which I reverence you so highly, make me ashamed, and the 256 whitefield's life and times. character I sustain, of your friend, makes it extremely irksome for me, to express any sentiments as mine, which may seem to arraign your conduct ; but when I reflect in how disadvantageous a light your regard to the methodists has for some considerable time placed you in the opinion of many, whom I have reason to believe you esteem amongst your most judicious and hearty friends, and what an advantage it has given against you to your secret and avowed enemies, of either of which facts I believe you are not in any just degree sensible, I could run any hazard of your censure rather than that you should remain unapprized of these facts. " You cannot be ignorant, how obnoxious the imprudences committed, or alleged to be committed, by some of the method- ists, have rendered them to great numbers of people ; and though, indeed, supposing they have a spirit of religion amongst them to be found no where else, so that a man would, for his own sake, and at any temporal hazard, take his lot amongst them ; yet if, besides their reputation for a forward and indis- creet zeal, and an unsettled, injudicious way of thinking and behaving, they have nothing to distinguish them from other serious and devout christians, surely every man would choose to have as little concern with them as possible. " But in the case of such a public character, and so extensive a province for the service of religion, as yours, it seems to me a point well worth considering, whether, supposing even the ill opinion the world entertains of them to be groundless, it is a right thing to risk such a prospect as Providence has opened before you, of eminent and distinguished usefulness, for the sake of any good you are likely to do amongst these people. " For my own part, I have had the misfortune of observing, and I must not conceal it from you, that wherever I have heard it mentioned, that Dr. Doddridge countenanced the methodists, and it has been the subject of conversation much oftener than I could have wished, I have heard it constantly spoken of by his friends with concern, as threatening a great diminution of his usefulness, and by his adversaries with a sneer of triumph. " The trustees are particularly in pain for it, with regard to your academy ; as they know it is an objection made to it, by WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 257 some persons in all appearance seriously, and by others craftily ; and yet they are almost afraid of giving their thoughts even in the most private manner concerning it, lest it should he made an occasion of drawing them into a public opposition to the methodists, as they are likely to be in some measure by your letter to Mr. Mason, (excusing your prefixing a recommendation of a book of theirs, without the advice of the trustees,) which letter they have desired me to inform you has given them great offence. " What weight these considerations will or ought to have with you, I cannot determine ; as I have thrown them together in a good deal of haste, I am afraid lest I should have said any thing in such a manner as may justly give you oifence : this, however, I am sure of, that you will not read any such line with more pain than that in which I wrote it. If I have used any assum- ing language, my heart did not dictate it ; if I have betrayed any earnestness or warmth unbecoming the deference due to your superior judgment, impute it to the passionate regard I bear to so great and so valuable a character : if, on the other hand, I have said any thing worthy your consideration, I am persuaded it will have its weight, notwithstanding any disadvan- tage from the mode of saying it, and the person who says it, especially when I assure you, that that alone which you may find in it becoming the sincerity and affection of a friend, and the respect and veneration due to a man of eminent learning and piety, has the approbation of. Reverend and dear Sir, Your most affectionate and faithful, humble servant, Nathaniel Neal." The answer to this first letter from the Coward trust, Dod- dridge himself did not trouble himself to preserve. A second came. " The candid reception you gave my last of the 11th instant, I impute principally to your own condescending and friendly disposition, and next, to the credit you gave to that simplicity of intention with which it was written, and wherein alone I can in any way be sure that it was not defective. s 258 whitefield's life and times. " I am not insensible, Sir, that the respect many of your people bore to Mr. Whitefielcl, and your own acquaintance with him, must have made it a matter of difficulty for you entirely to have avoided showing him some polite regards on his coming to Northampton ; and I greatly rejoice in being furnished with so particular an account of the circumstances attending his visit, that may enable me to say, you were so far, at that time, from .seeking his preaching in your pulpit, that you took several steps, and indeed all that you thought you could prudently venture on, and such as might, if they had succeeded, have been sufficient to have prevented it ; which I doubt not will, and I am sure ought, to have some weight with those who censure this step on the ground of imprudence. I could only wish that I were able to make these circumstances known as far as that censure is likely to extend. I should be very sorry. Sir, if you had any just reason to apprehend, that what has been written to you on this subject by any of your friends was intended to have any weight on the footing of authority. They ought to be ashamed of wishing for any greater influence over you than what their arguments, backed by the affection which all who deserve the name of your friends so justly entertain, will give them. And it is in that confidence that you will not think me vain, or so weak as to wish any greater for myself, that I venture to write another word to you on this subject. " And there is one thing which your letter gives me an occasion to suggest for your present consideration, with regard to your apprehensions of the growth of infidelity, which I am abundantly satisfied are too well founded ; and that is, whether the enthu- siasm and extravagances of weak christians have not furnished out some of the most specious pleas, as well as splendid triumphs, of infidelity ? The pamphlet of " Christianity not founded on Argument " alone, sufficiently convinces me that they have ; inasmuch as that pamphlet was calculated to serve the interests both of enthusiasm and deism ; actually made both enthusiasts and deists ; and raised a doubt, not yet, as I apprehend, fully cleared, whether the world was obliged to the one or other of these parties for that excellent performance. If enthusiasts. whitefield's life and times. 259 therefore, by their principles, are laying a foundation of deism, however they may abhor it in their intentions, it surely behoves us to see to it, that we give them no assistance in that work ; and the rather, as deists are watching for every possible advan- tage of this kind. A remarkable instance of which was acci- dentally mentioned to me very lately. In a late conversation in a mixed company of deists, the countenance which a certain eminent divine had given to some reputed enthusiasts was men- tioned by one of the deists in support of this position, — that the most learned and considerable among christian divines, who were really honest men, were enthusiasts. You may certainly depend on the truth of this relation." The answer to this also is not preserved. A third came. '' Million Bank, Dec. 10th, 1743. " I am sorry you appear so apprehensive in j^our last letter, lest I should interpret what you said in your first too unfavour- ably of the methodists and Mr. Whitefield, as it confirms me in my fears of your attachment to them ; but, whatever my wishes were in that respect, you may be assured I could never venture to represent you as indifferent to them, when I read your com- mendation of his sermon for its excellence and oratory, and re- member the low, incoherent stuff I used to hear him utter at Kennington Common. " Whilst I continued oppressed and hurt with these reflec- tions, your excellent sermon for the County Hospital came in to my relief. The piety, the justness of the sentiments and argu- ments, the manly, graceful diction, and the benevolent spirit that runs through the whole of it, both amazed and charmed me. It must have extorted from any heart less acquainted with your disposition for public usefulness than I am, a devout eja- culation, that God would never permit such talents to come under a wrong direction, or suffer the disadvantages they must necessarily submit to, if engaged amongst men of weak heads and narrow, gloomy sentiments, who may and ought to be pitied and prayed for, and better informed, as opportunity allows, but whom no rules of piety or prudence will oblige us to make our friends and confidants. 260 *•:' whitefield's life and times. " There are letters shown about town, from several ministers in the west, which make heavy complaints of the disorders occa- sioned by Whitefield and Wesley in those parts. One of them, speaking of Mr. Whitefield, calls him ' honest, crazy, confident Whitefield.' These letters likewise mention, that some minis- ters there, who were your pupils, have given them countenance ; and you can hardly conceive the disrespect this has occasioned several ministers and other persons in town to speak of you with. Whether you are aware of this I know not ; and I am sure, if I did not esteem it a mark of sincere friendship, I would not give you the uneasiness of hearing it." The answer to this letter Doddridge preserved, and I would perpetuate. TO NATHANIEL NEAL, ESQ. " I am truly sorry that the manner in which I spoke of Mr. Whitefield in my last should give you uneasiness. I hope I did not assert his sermon to have been free from its defects ; but I must be extremely prejudiced indeed, if it were such ^ wild, in- coherent stuiF,' as you heard on Kennington Common. Nor does it seem at all difficult to account for this ; for that preached here, which, I believe, was one of his more elaborate and, per- haps, favourite discourses, might deserve to be spoken of in a different manner. What I then said, proceeded from a princi- ple which I am sure you will not despise : I mean a certain frankness of heart, which would not allow me to seem to think more meanly of a man to whom I once professed some friendship, than I really did. I must, indeed, look upon it as an unhappy circumstance, that he came to Northampton just when he did, as I perceive, that, in concurrence with other circumstances, it has filled town and country with astonishment and indignation. Nor did I, indeed, imagine my character to have been of such great importance in the world, as that this little incident should have been taken so much notice of. I believe the true reason is, that for no other fault than my not being able to go so far as some of my brethren into the new ways of thinking and speak- ing, I have long had a multitude of enemies, who have been whitefield's life and times. 261 watching for some occasion against me ; and I thank God, that they have hitherto, with all that malignity of heart which some of them have expressed, been able to find no greater ! " As for you, dear Sir, I must always number you among my most affectionate and faithful friends ; and though the human heart is not so formed that it is agreeable to hear ourselves spoken of with disrespect, yet I am well assured that the writing the information you gave me was among the instances of your greatest kindness. You know. Sir, that a fear to offend God, by doing as most se//-prudent people do, has generally been esteemed a weakness : and my conscience testifies that those actions of mine which have been most reproached, have pro- ceeded from that principle. It is impossible to represent to you the reason, at least the excuse, I have had, and esteemed a reason, unless I could give you an account of the several cir- cumstances in which I have sviccessively been placed for these few past years. If I could, I believe you would be less inclined to blame me than you are ; though I am sensible your censures are very moderate, when compared with those of many others. " I had, indeed, great expectations from the methodists and Moravians. I am grieved, from my very heart, that so many things have occurred among them which have been quite unjus- tifiable : and I assure you faithfully, they are such as would have occasioned me to have dropped that intimacy of correspondence which I once had with them. And I suppose they have also produced the same sentiments in the archbishop of Canterbury, who, to my certain knowledge, received Count Zinzendorf with open arms, and wrote of his being chosen the Moravian bishop, as what was done ' plaudente toto coelesti choro.' I shall al- ways be ready to weigh whatever can be said against Mr, Whitefield, as well as against any of the rest : and, though I must have actual demonstration before I can admit him to be a dishonest man, and though I shall never be able to think all he has written, and all I have heard from him, nonsense, yet I am not so zealously attached to him as to be disposed to celebrate him as one of the greatest men of the age, or to think that he is the pillar that bears up the whole interest of religion among us. And if this moderation of sentiment towards him will not 262 whitefield's life and times. appease my angry brethren, as I am sensible it will not abate the enmity which some have, for many years, entertained to- wards me, I must acquiesce, and be patient till the day of the Lord, when the secrets of all hearts shall be made manifest; in which, I do from my heart believe, that with respect to the part I have acted in this affair, I shall not be ashamed. " I had before heard from some of my worthy friends in the west of the offence which had been taken at two of my pupils there, for the respect they showed to Mr. Whitefield ; and yet they are both persons of eminent piety. He whose name is chiefly in question, I mean Mr, Darracott, is one of the most devout and extraordinary men I ever sent out ; and a person who has, within these few years, been highly useful to numbers of his hearers. Some of these, who were the most abandoned characters in the place, are now become serious and useful chris- tians ; and he himself has honoured his profession, when to all around him he seemed on the borders of eternity, by a behaviour which, in such awful circumstances, the best of men might wish to be their own. Mr. Fawcett labours likewise at Taunton ; and his zeal, so far as I can judge, is inspired both with love and prudence. Yet I hear these men are reproached because they have treated Mr, Whitefield respectfully ; and that one of them, after having had a correspondence with him for many years, admitted him into his pulpit, I own I am very thoughtful when these things will end : in the mean time, I am as silent as I can be ! I commit the matter to God in prayer, and earnestly beg his direction, that he would lead me in a plain path. Sometimes I think the storm will soon blow over, and that things will re- turn again to their natural course. I am sure I see no danger that any of my pupils will prove methodists : I wish many of them may not run into the contrary extreme. It is really. Sir, with some confusion that I read your encomium upon my ser- mon : I am sensible it is some consolation to me, amidst the uneasiness which, as you conclude, other things must give me. I hope our design will go on, though it has not at present the success I could have wished. The dissenters do their part, but I am sorry to say the neighbouring clergy are exceedingly defi- cient in theirs." Doddridge. whitefield's life and times. 263 Neal was not the only person of influence amongst the dis- senters who was alarmed at Doddridge's liberality. Dr. Jen- nings assailed him for prefacing a book of Mason's ; by which " his friends were given by name," he says, " to be baited by the methodists, — as their opposers." At the same time, also, Mr. Blair wrote to him, begging his opinion of Whitefield — " a man/' he says, " more railed at by some, and idolized by others, than any person I ever knew in my life." His friend Barker also told him, that he had thought it " needful to warn his hearers to avoid the errors " of Whitefield and his followers. So little did good men appreciate or understand Whitefield at this time ! CHAPTER XI. WHITEFIELD S DOMESTIC LIFE. It is, indeed, almost a misnomer, to call Whitefield's conjugal life, domestic. His engagements, like Wesley's, were incom- patible with domestic happiness, — as that is understood by do- mestic men. iVccordingly, their kind and degree of home enjoyment he neither expected nor proposed to himself. All that he wanted was, a help meet, who could sympathize in his absorbing public enterprises, as well as in his personal joys and sorrows ; and a home, where he might recruit after labour and exhaustion. And such a wife and a home he deserved, as well as needed. He mistook sadly, however, when he sought for such a wife in the ranks of widowhood, then. There were no missionaries' widows " in these days." A young female, of eminent piety and zeal, might have fallen in with his habits and plans, and even found her chief happiness in sustaining his mighty and manifold undertakings, like Paul's Phcebe : but a widow, who had been " a housekeeper " (her own) " many years," and that in the retirement of Abergavenny, in Wales, could hardly be expected to unlearn the domestic system of the country, nor to become a heroine for the world. Both Whitefield and Wesley forgot this obvious truth, and married widows. How much Wesley smarted for this oversight, is as proverbial as it is painful. Mrs. Whitefield had none of Mrs. Wesley's faults. She had, however, no commanding virtues, running in grand parallel with any of the noble features of her husband's character ; and thus, because she was not prominently a help to him, she seems to have been reckoned a hinderance, by the whitefield's life and times. 265 gossips and busybodies who watched Mrs. Wesley. These, in their fears for their own " dear minister's comfort," watched Mrs. Whitefield also, lest he should be made as unhappy as his old friend ! The tattle of such spies is beneath contempt. It has, how- ever, found some countenance from a quarter which no impar- tial judge can overlook or underrate. Cornelius Winter, in the letters which form the substance of his " Life," by Jay of Bath, has said expressly, that Whitefield " was not happy in his wife ;" that " she certainly did not behave as she ought ;" and that "her death set his mind much at rest." Now, what- ever this sweeping charge means, it came from a man of the highest character. Of Cornelius Winter, Matthew Wilks used to say, " I am never in this man's company without being re- minded of Paradisaical innocence." Rowland Hill also, al- though he did not give Winter credit for all the candour Jay has done, did not hesitate to say of him, that " he would make the worst devil of any man in the world ;" meaning, that he was the most unlike the devil. All this is so true, — that Win- ter's account of Mrs. Whitefield has acquired currency, although it is neither confirmed nor illustrated by a single document or line from any other writer, so far as I can learn. It will, no doubt, surprise some, however, who have formed their opinion of her from this single source, to be informed that Winter's opportunity of knowing her, from personal observation, was very short. Whitefield was married to her before Winter was born. She died in 1768. Now Winter says, that Berridge in- troduced him to Whitefield by letter, in February, 1767. Jay's Life of Winter. And even then, he did not become " one of the family " until his " fidelity was proved." Thus he had not two years to judge ; and even this brief space occurred when Mrs. Whitefield was breaking down. Unless, therefore, he received his information from Whitefield himself, (and he does not say so,) Winter must be deemed, for once, rash, at least. This is a painful conclusion ; but it is inevitable, except on the supposition that the sweeping charge was made against her by her husband. But his first report of her is, that " Mrs. James," although " once gay, is now a despised follower of the 266 WHITEFIELU'S LIFE AND TIMES. liamb," Gillies. In like manner, throughout a long series of his letters, he uniformly styles her his "dear partner," or " dear fellow-pilgrim," or " dear yoke-fellow," or " dear wife." He also tells with evident delight, how she assisted the sailors to make cartridges, when their vessel was preparing for battle, on the voyage to America. He also praises her as his " ten- der nurse," whilst he was ill at Toronto. He often joins her name with his own, in sending salutations to Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Hervey, and other dear friends. In July, 1768, he writes thus from Edinburgh, " tender love to all, particularly to my dear wife." In the same month (she died in August) he writes to another friend, " My wife is as well as can be expected. Both of us descending, in order to ascend, ' Where sin, and pain, and sorrow cease, And all is calm, and joy, and peace.' " Is it likely that the man who wrote thus of his wife, from first to last, would have said of her afterwards to Winter, a com- parative stranger, what would have warranted Winter to throw so dark a cloud over her memory ? I have given Winter credit for a longer opportunity of ob serving her, than he himself pretends to have had. " Thrice," he says, " it pleased the Lord to lay him upon a bed of sick- ness," after he became one of the family. Then, " eight months" of his short opportunity were spent in Bristol, for the recovery of his health. This is not all the subtraction to be made from the time. " A second visit to Bristol held four months." Besides, when he returned to London, he had to " bury the dead at Tottenham Court chapel." Jay^s Life. Now certainly, whatever may be thought of Winter's high cha- racter, it is impossible to attach much importance to his facili- ties for observation : they were both few and small ; and he ought to have said so, instead of leaving the fact to be thus found out by comparing scattered dates, and calculating long intervals of absence. A great deal, indeed, may be learnt in a short time, in any family, where all is not right between husband and wife ; and if Winter, whilst a bachelor, had all those delicate and noble per- whitefield's life and times. 267 ceptions of conjugal love, which he exemplified when he became a husband, long observation was not necessary in order to en- able his fine eye to see exactly how matters stood between Mr. and Mrs. Whitefield. I have felt it to be my duty to scrutinize this only recorded stigma upon Mrs. Whitefield ; — not because I question the general truth of it, so far as Winter was a witness, — but be- cause it passes for more than I think he ever intended. The Whitefields, so far as I can judge, neither lived nor loved like Mr. and Mrs. Winter. They were not unhappy in the sense Mr. and Mrs. Wesley were so ; but still their communion of spirit, or oneness of soul, was not what Cornelius Winter nor I could conscientiously call domestic happiness. I say this, because I cannot forget the strangeness, to say the least, of Whitefield's text, when he preached his wife's funeral sermon. It was, — " For the creature was made subject to vanity ; not willingly, but by reason of Him who hath subjected the same in hope," Rom, viii. 20. Gillies. Now, even if he dwelt upon the context, there was still an implication, anything but complimentary to her memory. In like manner, his letter to Torial Joss on her death, is more pious than tender : — " The late very unexpected breach is a fresh proof that the night soon cometh when no man can work. Pray, where may Ijind that great promise made to Abraham, after Sarah's death ? May it be fulfilled in you, whilst your Sarah is yet alive ! Sweet be- reavements, when God himself fills up the void. I find it so," Letters. There was no promise, great or small, given on that occasion. On the other hand, I find a letter a year after her death, in which he says to a friend, " I feel the loss of my ^ right hand' daily ; but right hands and right eyes must be parted with for Him, who doeth all things well." Letter 1406. This acknow- ledgment Winter had access to when he said that her death set Whitefield's " mind much at rest." He might also have read, as well as myself, the following references to the early and mid- dle parts of their domestic history. Whitefield wrote thus from on board the Wilmington, in 1744 : " All except myself seem ready for fire and smoke. My wife, after having dressed 268 whitefield's life and times. herself to prepare for all events, set about making cartridges, — whilst the husband wanted to go into the holes of the ship, hearing that was the chaplain's usual place." After recovering from an attack of colic, which seemed likely to terminate in mortal convulsions, at York, in the same year, he sang with gratitude, " My wife and friends stood weeping by, In tears resolved to see me die." In a subsequent letter, he bears testimony to her usefulness and zeal : " My dear wife is fully employed in copying my let- ters. We do not, however, forget our dear London and Eng- lish friends. We pray for them often, and cannot help wishing some may come over into this delightful wilderness (Pisca- taqua) ; it is a fruitful field." In 1747, he wrote from Charles- ton to Wales, " My dear yoke-fellow is in Georgia. Blessed be God, she is well, and prospers in soul and body. We hope to live and have our hearts warmed with our Welch friends ere we go hence and be no more." In the same year he wrote thus of her to a friend, " We lead a moving life, but I trust we move heavenward." " We are more than happy." " We go on like two happy pilgrims, leaning on our Beloved." In 1748, when he sailed from Bermudas to England, he wrote, " I intend to return to beloved America next year, which is one reason why I leave my dear yoke-fellow behind. Oh that I knew how it was with her ! But I see God will make those he loves to live by faith and not by sense." In 1749 he says, " We are both well, and surrounded with mercies on every side : — only ungrateful, ill, and hell-deserving I, want a grateful and humble heart ! " At a later period, 1754, 1 find him writing from Lisbon thus: " You will not forget to visit my widoiv-wife ! Blessed be God, her Maker is her Husband ; and ere long we shall sit down to- gether, at the marriage-supper of the Lamb." In 1756, he says, " I have no thoughts at present of her ever seeing the orphan-house again. We shall ere long see heaven. Some ante- pasts of it we are favoured with already." Letters. But enough, more than enough, is now presented, to prove that Winter's unqualified statements were unwarranted. I whitefield's life and times, 2G9 must, however, add, that they are to me unaccountable, unless he meant only the period whilst he was a witness of the White- field family, and unless he made his own experience the standard by which he tried their conjugal love ; and this he has not said. I must, therefore, leave the case of Whitefield versus Winter to the verdict of time. Whitefield's marriage did not interrupt his work, nor damp his ardour. In a few days after, his success in Wales made him exclaim, " God has been pleased to work by my hands since I have been here. O stupendous love. O infinitely con- descending God !" He was married on the 11th of November, 1741, and before the end of the month he was electrifying Bris- tol, as in the days of old. " We have a growing church " here again. It had been checked for a time by the breach between Wesley and Cennick. " Yesterday, and several other times, the Lord hath filled many as with new wine. Sometimes I have scarce known whether I have been in the body or out of the body. It is a good thing to know how to manage a manifesta- tion aright ; nature so frequently and artfully blends with grace ! The more grace I receive, the more I desire to lie as a poor, very poor sinner at the feet of the wounded Lamb." In this spirit he came to Gloucester, " where, by a particular providence," one of the churches was again opened to him ; St. John's, The old incumbent, who had been his "grand op- poser" formerly, was dead ; and the new minister had not taken possession of the pulpit ; and, therefore, the churchwardens paid their townsman the compliment of a church to preach in, be- cause he was newly married. He preached twice on the sab- bath " with unspeakable power ;" and then upon " a hill six miles off"," and at night at Stroud. There was, he says, " a new awakening, and revival of the work of God." " We shall never know," he exclaims, " what good field preaching has done, till we come to judgment." At Stroud and Painswick he flew as on eagles' wings, he says, " with wondrous power, and every sermon was blessed." Whilst thus darting off every now and then from his home, he sent word to Gilbert Tennent, that Mrs. Whitefield, although neither " rich in fortune, nor beautiful in person, was a true 270 whitefield's life and times, child of God," who would not " for the world hinder him in God's work." " The Lord hath given me a daughter of Abra- ham," he says to another American friend. In February, 1742, Whitefield returned to London, where "life and power soon flew all around" him again; "the Re- deemer getting himself victory daily in many hearts." The renewed progress of the gospel at this time in London, he calls emphatically, "the Redeemer's stately steps.''^ Well he might; for during the Easter holidays, " Satan's booths " in Moor- fields poured out their thousands to hear him. This deter- mined him to dare all hazards on Whit-Monday, the great gala- day of vanity and vice there. Gillies' account of this enterprise, although not incorrect nor uninteresting, is very incomplete, considering the fame of the feat at the time. The following account is from the pen of Whitefield himself; and written whilst he was reporting, at home and abroad, his marriage. " For many years, from one end of Moorfields to the other, booths of all kinds have been erected for mountebanks, players, puppet-shows, and such like. With a heart bleeding with com- passion for so many thousands led captive by the devil at his will, on Whit-Monday, at six o'clock in the morning, attended by a large congregation of praying people, I ventured to lift up a standard amongst them in the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps there were about ten thousand in waiting, not for me, but for Satan's instruments to amuse them. — Glad was I to find, that I had for once as it were got the start of the devil. I mounted my field pulpit ; almost all flocked immediately around it. I preached on these words, ' As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the Son of man be lifted up,' &c. They gazed, they listened, they wept ; and I believe that many felt themselves stung with deep conviction for their past sins. All was hushed and solemn. Being thus encouraged, I ven- tured out again at noon ; but what a scene ! The fields, the whole fields seemed, in a bad sense of the word, all white, ready not for the Redeemer's, but Beelzebub's harvest. All his agents were in full motion, drummers, trumpeters, merry-an- drews, masters of puppet-shows, exhibiters of wild beasts, players, &c. &c. all busy in entertaining their respective audi- whitefield's life and times. 271 tories. I suppose there could not be less than twenty or tliirty thousand people. My pulpit was fixed on the opposite side, and immediately, to their great mortification, they fijund the number of their attendants sadly lessened. Judging that, like Saint Paul, I should now be called as it were to fight with beasts at EjyJiesus, I preached from these words : ' Great is Diana of the EphesiansJ' You may easily guess, that there was some noise among the craftsmen, and that I was honoured with having a few stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats thrown at me, whilst engaged in calling them from their favourite but lying vanities. My soul was indeed among lions ; but far the greatest part of my congregation, which was very large, seemed for a while to be turned into lambs. This en- couraged me to give notice that I would preach again at six o'clock in the evening. I came, I saw, but what — thousands and thousands more than before, if possible, still more deeply engaged in their unhappy diversions ; but some thousands amongst them waiting as earnestly to hear the gospel. This Satan could not brook. One of his choicest servants was exhibiting, trumpeting on a large stage ; but as soon as the people saw me in my black robes and my pulpit, I think all to a man left him and ran to me. For a while I was enabled to lift up my voice like a trumpet, and many heard the joyful sound. God's people kept praying, and the enemy's agents made a kind of a roaring at some distance from our camp. At length they approached nearer, and the merry-andrew (attend- ed by others, who complained that they had taken many pounds less that day on account of my preaching) got up upon a man's shoulders, and advancing near the pulpit attempted to slash me with a long heavy whip several times, but always with the vio- lence of his motion tumbled down. Soon afterwards they got a recruiting serjeant with his drum, &c. to pass through the congregation. I gave the word of command, and ordered that way might be made for the king's officer. The ranks opened, while all marched quietly through, and then closed again. Finding those efforts to fail, a large body quite on the opposite side assembled together, and having got a large pole for their standard, advanced towards us with steady and formidable steps, 272 whitefield's life and times. till they came very near the skirts of our hearing, praying, and almost undaunted congregation. I saw, gave warning, and prayed to the Captain of our salvation for present support and deliverance. He heard and answered ; for just as they ap- proached us with looks full of resentment, I know not by what accident, they quarrelled among themselves, threw down their staif and went their way, leaving, however, many of their com- pany behind, who, before we had done, I trust were brought over to join the besieged party. I think I continued in praying, preaching, and singing (for the noise was too great at times to preach) about three hours. " We then retired to the Tabernacle, with my pockets full of notes from persons brought under concern, and read them amidst the praises and spiritual acclamations of thousands, who joined with the holy angels in rejoicing that so many sinners were snatched, in such an unexpected, unlikely place and manner, out of the very jaws of the devil. This was the beginning of the Tabernacle society. — Three hundred and fifty awakened souls were received in one day, and I believe the number of notes ex- ceeded a thousand ; but I must have done, believing you want to retire to join in mutual praise and thanksgiving to God and the Lamb. " Fresh matter of praise ; bless ye the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously. The battle that was begun on Monday, was not quite over till Wednesday evening, though the scene of action was a little shifted. Being strongly invited, and a pulpit being prepared for me by an honest quaker, a coal mer- chant, I ventured on Tuesday evening to preach at Mary le Bow Fields, a place almost as much frequented by boxers, gamesters, and such like, as Moorfields. A vast concourse was assembled together, and as soon as I got into the field pulpit, their coun- tenances bespoke the enmity of their hearts against the preacher. I opened with these words — ' I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth.' I preached in great jeopardy ; for the pulpit being high, and the supports not well fixed in the ground, it tottered every time I moved, and numbers of enemies strove to push my friends against the supporters, in order to throw me whitefield's life and times. 273 down. But the Redeemer stayed my soul on himself, therefore I was not much moved, unless with compassion for those to whom I was delivering my Master's message, which I had reason to think, hy the strong impressions that were made, was welcome to many. But Satan did not like thus to be attacked in his strong holds, and I narrowly escaped with my life : for as I was passing from the pulpit to the coach, I felt my wig and hat to be almost off. I turned about, and observed a sword just touch- ing my temples. A young rake, as I afterwards found, was de- termined to stab me, but a gentleman, seeing the sword thrust- ing near me, struck it up with his cane, and so the destined victim providentially escaped. Such an attempt excited abhor- rence ; the enraged multitude soon seized him, and had it not been for one of my friends, who received him into his house, he must have undergone a severe discipline. The next day, I re- newed my attack in Moorfields ; but, would you think it? after they found that pelting, noise, and threatenings would not do, one of the merry-andrews got up into a tree very near the pulpit, and shamefully exposed himself before all the people. Such a beastly action quite abashed the serious part of my auditory ; whilst hundreds of another stamp, instead of rising to pull down the unhappy wretch, expressed their approbation by repeated laughs. I must own that, at first, it gave me a shock. I thought Satan had outdone himself. But, recovering my spirits, I appealed to all, since they had now such a spectacle before them, whether I had wronged human nature, in saying, after pious Bishop Hall, ' that man, when left to himself, was half a beast and half a devil;' or, as the great Mr. Law expressed himself, ' a motley mixture of beast and devil.' " Silence and attention being thus gained, I concluded with a warm exhortation, and closed our festival enterprises in read- ing fresh notes that were put up, praising and blessing God, amidst thousands at the Tabernacle, for what he had clone for precious souls, and on account of the deliverances he had wrought out for me and his people. I could enlarge ; but being about to embark in the Mary and Ann for Scotland, I must hasten to a close : but I cannot help adding, that several little boys and girls who were fond of sitting round me on the pulpit, while I 274 whitefield's life and times. preached, and handing to me people's notes, though they were often pelted with eggs, dirt, &e. thrown at me, never once gave way; but, on the contrary, every time I was struck, turned up their little weeping eyes, and seemed to wish they could receive the blows for me. God make them in their growing years great and living martyrs for him, who out of the mouths of babes and sucklings perfects praise ! " Letters. In this way Whitefield signalized his marriage ; verifying to his wife the assurance he had given her, that he would not preach a sermon less, nor travel a mile fewer, than formerly. And she had no occasion to regret, that he did not take her with him in his short excursions around London ; for, however good a rider he was, he was a bad driver. The first time he took her out in a chaise, he drove into a ditch. " My wife," he says to a friend, " has been in trying circumstances, partly through the unskilfulness of a chaise-driver ; — I mean myself^ Being advised to take her out into the air, I drove her, as well as myself, through inadvertency, into a ditch. Finding that we were falling — she put her hand across the chaise, and thereby preserved us both from being thrown out. The ditch might be about fourteen feet deep ; but, blessed be God, though all that saw us falling, cried out. They are killed, yet, through infinite mercy, we received no great hurt. The place was very narrow near the bottom, and yet the horse went down, as though let down by a pulley. A stander-by ran down and catched hold of its head, to prevent its going forwards. I got upon its back, and was drawn out by a long whip, whilst my wife, hanging be- tween the chaise and the bank, was pulled up on the other side by two or three kind assistants. Being both in a comfortable frame, I must own, to my shame, that I felt rather regret than thankfulness in escaping what I thought would be a kind of a translation to our wished-for haven. But, O amazing love ! we were so strengthened, that the chaise and horse being taken up, and our bruises being washed with vinegar in a neighbouring house, we went on our intended way, and came home rejoicing in God our Saviour. Not expecting my wife's confinement for some time, I intend making a short excursion, and then you may expect further news." whitefield's life and times. 275 It must not be supposed that the chaise was his own. He was so poor, at this time, that he had to horroiv furniture for his house. This may surprise some ; but it is only too true. " I thank you a thousand times for your great generosity," he Avrites to a friend, " in lending me some furniture ; — having little of my own. I know who will repay you." Lett. 546. Even this is not all the fact concerning his poverty. Almost immediately after the baptism of his son, he wrote to the same friend, " My dear wife and little one will come to Gloucester, for I find it heyoncl my circumstances to maintain them here. But why talk of wife and little one ? Let all be absorbed in the thoughts of the love, sufferings, free and full salvation of the infinitely great and glorious Emmanuel. In respect to other things, at present, this is the habitual language of my heart, ' Thy gifts, if called for, I resign ; Pleased to receive, pleased to restore. Gifts are thy work. It shall be mine, The Giver only to adore.' " It was well he was thus minded ; for he had soon to give up his Isaac. The journey to Gloucester proved fatal to the child: and yet, how slightly he refers to the poverty which rendered that journey necessary ! His narrative of the event is very touching, in all respects. " Who knows what a day may bring forth ? Last night I was called to sacrifice my Isaac ; I mean to bury my only child and son, about four months old. Many things occurred to make me believe he was not only to be continued to me, but to be a preacher of the everlasting gospel. Pleased with the thought, and ambitious of having a son of my own so divinely employed, Satan was permitted to give me some wrong im- pressions, whereby, as I now find, I misapplied several texts of Scripture. Upon these grounds I made no scruple of declaring ' that I should have a son, and that his name was to be Jolin.^ I mentioned the very time of his birth, and fondly hoped that he was to be great in the sight of the Lord. Every thing hap- pened according to the predictions ; and my wife having had T 2 276. whitefield's life and times. several narrow escapes while pregnant, especially by her falling from a high horse, and my driving her into a deep ditch in a one-horse chaise a little before the time of her confinement, and from which we received little or no hurt, confirmed me in my expectation, that God would grant me my heart's desire. I would observe to you, that the child was even born in a room, wliich the master of the house had prepared as a prison for his wife for coming to hear me. With joy would she often look upon the bars, and staples, and chains which were fixed in order to keep her in. About a week after his birth, I publicly baptized him in the Tabernacle, and in the company of thousands solenmly gave him up to that God who gave him to me. A hymn, too fondly composed by an aged widow, as suitable to the occasion, was sung, and all went away big with hopes of the child's being hereafter to be employed in the work of God; but how soon, are all their fond, and, as the event hath proved, their ill-grounded expectations blasted as well as mine ! House- keeping being expensive in London, I thought it best to send both parent and child to Abergavenny, where my wife had a lit- tle house of my own, the furniture of which, as I thought of soon embarking for Georgia, I had partly sold, and partly given away. In their journey thither, they stopped at Gloucester, at the Bell Inn, which my brother now keeps, and in which I was born. There my beloved was cut off with a stroke. Upon my coming here, without knowing what had happened, I inquired concerning the welfare of parent and child ; and by the answer found that the flower was cut down. I immediately called all to join in prayer, in which I blessed the Father of mercies for giving me a son, continuing it to me so long, and taking it from me so soon. All joined in desiring that I would decline preach- ing till the child was buried ; but I remembered a saying of good Mr. Henry, ' that weeping must not hinder sowing,' and therefore preached twice the next day, and also the day follow- ing ; on the evening of which, just as I was closing my sermon, the bell struck out for the funeral. At first, I must acknow- ledge, it gave nature a little shake, but looking up I recovered strength, and then concluded with saying, that this text on which I had been preaching, namely, ' All things worked toge- whitefield's life and times. 277 ther for good to them that love God,' made me as willing to go out to my son's funeral, as to hear of his birth. Our part- ing from him was solemn. We kneeled down, prayed, and shed many tears, but I hope tears of resignation : and then, as he died in the house wherein I was born, he was taken and laid in the church where I was baptized, first communicated, and first preached. All this you may ea.sily guess threw me into very solemn and deep reflection, and I hope deep humiliation ; but I was comforted from that passage in the book of Kings, where is recorded the death of the Shunammite's child, which the pro phet said, ' the Lord had hid from him ;' and the woman's answer likewise to the prophet when he asked, ' Is it well with thee ? Is it well with thy husband ? Is it well with thy child?' And she answered, ' It is well.^ This gave me no small satis- faction. I immediately preached upon the text the day follow- ing at Gloucester, and then hastened up to London, preached upon the same there ; and though disappointed of a living preacher by the death of my son, yet I hope what happened be- fore his birth, and since at his death, hath taught me such les- sons, as, if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more cautious, more sober-minded, more experienced in Satan's de- vices, and consequently more useful in his future labours to the church of God. Thus, ' out of the eater comes forth sweet- ness.' Not doubting but our future life will be one continued explanation of this blessed riddle, I commend myself and you to the unerring guidance of God's word and Spirit." Happily for himself, Whitefield had the prosecution of the Hampton rioters to provide for at this time. This compelled him to bestir himself in visiting and corresponding, in order to obtain money to meet the expenses of the trial. He took a right view of that outrage when he said, " much depends on our get- ting the victory." Colonel Gardiner (now his friend) entered into this view of the case, and sustained him. So did many other influential men. A lady, also, in Wales, subscribed five pounds towards the expenses. The Welch Association were " very generous, according to their circumstances ;" and the Tabernacle friends had " a glorious fast, at which they collected above sixty pounds " for the assistance of their suffering brethren 278 whitefield's life and times. at Hampton. The following is his own account of " The Oc- casion, Process, and Issue of the Trial at Gloucester, March 3, 1743." " On Thursday evening I came hither from the Gloucester assizes, where I have been engaged in a trial between some of those who are called methodists, and some violent rioters. Perhaps this news may a little startle you, and put you upon inquiry (as it hath done some others) * How we came to go to law with our adversaries, when it is our avowed principle to suiFer patiently for the truth's sake ? ' I will tell you, my dear friend : though perhaps there is nothing in the world more abused than the law, and there are very few that go to law out of a proper principle ; yet we hold that there is a proper use of it, and the law is good when used lawfully. Whether or no we have used it lawfully in the present case, I shall leave my friend to judge, after I have told him the motives that induced us to engage in it. — The methodists, you know, are every where accounted enthusiasts, in the worst sense of the word ; but though they are accounted such, yet they would not be enthu- siasts in reality. Now we look upon it to be one species of en- thusiasm, to expect to attain an end without making use of proper means. We also think that believers should be very careful not to be fond of suffering persecution, when they may avoid it by making application to the high powers. We are likewise of opinion, that good christians will be good subjects, and consequently it is their duty, as much as in them lies, to put a stop to every thing in a rightful way, that may prove de- structive to the king or the government under which they live. Christian ministers, in particular, we think, ought to consider the weakness of people's grace, and, in pity to precious souls, do what they can to remove every thing out of the way that may discourage or prevent poor people's hearing the everlasting gospel. These considerations, my dear friend, for some time past, have led me to examine whether the methodists in general (and I myself in particular) have acted the part of good sub- jects, and judicious christian ministers, in so long neglecting to make an application to the superior courts, and putting in exe- cution the wholesome laws of the land, in order to prevent those vvhitefield's life and times. 279 many dreadful outrages which have been committed against us. I need not descend to particulars. Our Weekly History is full of them ; and before that came out, several of our brethren, both in England and Wales, have received much damage from time to time, and been frequently in great hazard of their lives. Wiltshire has been very remarkable for mobbing and abusing the methodists ; and, for about ten months last past, it has also prevailed very much in Gloucestershire, especially at Hampton, where our friend Mr. Adams has a dwelling-house, and has been much blessed to many people. This displeased the grand enemy of souls, who stirred up many of the baser sort, privately encouraged by some of a higher rank, to come from time to time, in great numbers, with a low-bell and horn, to beset the house, and beat and abuse the people. " About the beginning of July last, their opposition seemed to rise to the highest. For several days they assembled in great bodies, broke the windows, and mobbed the people to such a degree, that many expected to be murdered, and hid themselves in holes and corners, to avoid the rage of their ad- versaries. Once, when I was there, they continued from four in the afternoon till midnight, rioting, giving loud huzzas, cast- ing dirt upon the hearers, and making proclamations, ' That no anabaptists, presbyterians, &c. should preach there, upon pain of being first put into a tan-pit, and afterwards into a brook.' At another time they pulled one or two women down the stairs by the hair of their heads. And on the 10th of July they came, to the number of near a hundred, in their usual way, with a low-bell and horn, about five in the afternoon, forced into Mr. Adams's house, and demanded him down the stairs whereon he was preaching, took him out of his house, and threw him into a tan-pit full of noisome things and stagnated water. One of our friends named Williams asking them, ' If they were not ashamed to serve an innocent man so ? ' they put him into the same pit twice, and afterwards beat him, and dragged him along the kennel. Mr. Adams quietly returned home, and betook him- self to prayer, and exhorted the people to rejoice in suffering for the sake of the gospel. In about half an hour they came to the house again, dragged him down the stairs, and led him 280 whitefield's life and times. away a mile and a half to a place called Bourn Brook, and then threw him in. A stander-by, fearing he might be drowned, jumped in and pulled him out ; whereupon another of the rioters immediately pushed him into the pool a second time, and cut his leg against a stone, so that he went lame for near a fortnight. Both the constable and justices were applied to, but refused to act, and seemed rather to countenance the mob- bing, hoping thereby methodism (as they called it) would be put a stop to, at least at Hampton. For a season they gained their end. There was no preaching for some time, the people fear- ing to assemble on account of the violence of the mob. " Upon my return to town, I advised with my friends what to do. We knew we wanted to exercise no revenge against the rioters, and yet we thought it wrong that the gospel should be stopped by such persons, when the government under which we lived countenanced no such thing ; and also that it was absurd to thank God for wholesome laws, if they were not to be made use of. We knew very well, that an apostle had told us, that magistrates were ordained for the punishment of evil-doers ; and that they bear not the sword in vain. We were also fear- ful that if any of our brethren should be murdered by future riotings, (as in all probability they might,) we should be acces- sary to their death, if we neglected to tie up the rioters' hands, which was all we desired to do. Besides, we could not look upon this as allowed persecution, since it was not countenanced by the laws of the land, and we might have redress from these rioters and inferior magistrates,by appealing to Caesar, whose real friends and loyal subjects we judged ourselves not to be, if we suffered his laws to be publicly trampled under foot by such notorious rioting ; and which, though begun against the metho- dists, might terminate in open rebellion against King George. For these and such like reasons, we thought it our duty to move for an information in the King's Bench against five of the ringleaders, and fixed upon the riot which they made on Sun- day, July 10th, when they put Mr. Adams and Williams into the tan-pit and brook. But before this was done, I wrote a let- ter to one whom they called Captain, desiring him to inform his associates, ' That if they would acknowledge their fault, pay for whitefield's life and times. 281 curing a boy's arm, which was broken the night I was there, and mend the windows of Mr, Adams's house, we would readily pass all by ; but if they persisted in their resolutions to riot, we thought it our duty to prevent their doing, and others re- ceiving, further damage, by moving for an information against them in the King's Bench.' I also sent a copy of this letter to a minister of the town, and to a justice of the peace, with a let- ter to each from myself: but all in vain. The rioters sent me a most insolent answer, wrote me word, ' They were in high spirits, and were resolved there should be no more preaching in Hampton.' Finding them. ir)-eclaimable, we moved the next term for a rule of court in the King's Bench, to lodge an in- formation against five of the ringleaders, for the outrage com- mitted, violence offered, and damage done to Mr. Adams and Williams, on Sunday, July 10th, The rioters were apprized of it, appeared by their counsel, and prayed the rule might be en- larged till the next term. It was granted. In the mean while they continued mobbing, broke into Mr. Adams's house one Saturday night at eleven o'clock, when there was no preaching, made those that were in bed get up, and searched the oven, cel- lar, and every corner of the house, to see whether they could find any methodists. Some time after, they threw another young man into a mud pit three times successively, and abused the people in a dreadful manner. " The next term came on. We proved our accusations by twenty-six affidavits ; and the defendants making no reply, the rule was made absolute, and an information filed against them. To this they pleaded not guilty ; and, according to the method in the Crown Office, the cause was referred to the assize held at Gloucester, March 3d. Thither I went, and on Tuesday morning last the trial came on. It was given out by some, that the methodists were to lose the cause, whether right or wrong. • And I believe the defendants depended much on a supposition that the gentlemen and jury would be prejudiced against us. We were easy, knowing that our Saviour had the hearts of all in his hands. Being aware of the great conse- quences of gaining or losing this trial, both in respect to us and the nation, we kept a day of fasting and prayer through all the 282 whitefield's life and times. societies both in England and Wales. Our Scotch friends also joined with us, and cheerfully committed our cause into His hands by whom kings reign and princes decree justice. We had about thirty witnesses to prove the riot and facts laid down in the information. Our counsel opened the cause (as I heard, being not present when the trial begun) with much solidity and sound reasoning : they showed, that rioters were not to be reformers ; and that his Majesty had no where put the reins of government into the hands of mobbers, or made them judge or jury. One of them in particular, with great gravity, reminded the gentlemen on the jury of the advice of Gamaliel, a doctor of the law, recorded Acts v. 38, 39, " Refrain from these men, and let them alone ; for if this counsel, or this work, be of men, it will come to nought ; but if it be of God, ye cannot over- throw it, lest haply ye be found even to fight against God.' Our witnesses were then called. I came into court when the second witness was examining. Mr. Adams and four more (three of which were not called methodists) so clearly proved both the riot and the facts laid to the charge of the defendants, that the judge was of opinion there needed no other evidence. The counsel for the defendants then rose and exerted a good deal of oratory, and I think said all that could well be said, to make the best of a bad matter. One urged, that we were enthu- siasts, and our principles and practices had such a tendency to infect and hurt the people, that it was right, in his opinion, for any private person to stand up and put a stop to us ; and who- ever did so, was a friend to his country. He strove to influ- ence the jury, by telling them, that if a verdict was given against the defendants, it would cost them two hundred pounds; that the defendants' rioting was not premeditated ; but, that coming to hear Mr, Adams, and being offended at his doctrine, a sudden quarrel arose, and thereby the unhappy men were led into the present fray, which he could have wished had not hap- pened ; but however it did not amount to a riot, but only an as- sault. Their other counsel then informed the jury, that they would undertake to prove that the methodists began the tumults first. He was pleased also to mention me by name, and ac- quainted the court, that Mr, Whitefield had been travelhng whitefield's life and times. 283 from common to common, making the people cry, and then picking their pockets, under pretence of collecting money for the colony of Georgia ; and knowing that Gloucestershire was a populous country, he at last came there. That he had now several curates, of which Mr. Adams was one, who in his preaching had found fault with the proceedings of the clergy, and said if the people went to hear them, they would be damned. He added, that there had lately been such a mobbing in Staffordshire, that a regiment of soldiers was sent down to suppress them ; insinuating that the methodists were the au- thors ; that we had now another cause of a like nature de- pending in Wiltshire ; and that we were not of that mild, pacific spirit as we would pretend to be. — This, and much more to the same purpose, though foreign to the matter in hand, pleased many of the auditors, who expressed their satisfaction in hear- ing the methodists in general, and me in particular, thus lashed, by frequent laughing. The eyes of all were upon me. Our Saviour kept me quite easy. I thought of that verse of Horace, ' Hie murus aheneus esto, Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa.* Tertullus's accusing Paul came also to my mind, and I looked upon myself as highly honoured in having such things spoken against me falsely for Christ's great name's sake. To prove what the defendants' counsel had insinuated, they called up a young man, who was brother to one of the defendants, and one of the mob. He swore point blank, that Mr. Adams said, if people went to church they would be damned ; and if they would come to him, he would carry them to Jesus Christ. He swore also, that the pool into which Mr. Adams was thrown, was no deeper than half way up his legs. He said first, that there were about ten of them that came to the house of Mr. Adams ; and then he swore that there were about threescore. He said, there was a low-bell, and that one of the defendants did ask Mr. Adams to come down off the stairs, but that none of them went up to him ; upon which Mr. Adams willingly obeyed, went with them briskly along the street, and, as he would have represented it, put himself into the tan-pit and 284 whitefield's life and times. pool, and so came out again. He said also some other things ; but throughout his whole evidence appeared so flagrantly false, that one of the counsellors said, it was enough to make his hair stand on end. The judge himself wished he had had so much religion as to fear an oath. So he went down in dis- grace. Their second evidence was an aged woman, mother to one of the defendants. She swore that her son did go up the stairs to Mr. Adams, and that Mr. Adams tore her son's coat, and would have broken his neck down-stairs. But she talked so fast, and her evidence was so palpably false, that she was sent away in as much disgrace as the other. Their third and last evidence was father to one who was in the mob, though not one of the defendants. The chief he had to say was, that when Mr. Adams was coming from the pool, one met him, and said, ' Brother, how do you do ? ' Upon which he answered, that he had received no damage, but had been in the pool, and came out again. So that all their evidences, however con- trary to one another, yet corroborated ours, and proved the riot out of their own mouths. The book was then given to a justice of the peace, who had formerly taken up Mr. Cennick for preaching near Stroud, and had lately given many signal proofs that he was no friend to the methodists. But he intending to speak only about their characters, and the counsel and judge looking upon that as quite impertinent to the matter in hand, he was not admitted as an evidence. Upon this, his Lordship, with great candour and impartiality, summed up the evidence, and told the jury, that he thought they should bring all the defendants in guilty ; for our evidences had sufficiently proved the whole of the information, and also that the riot was preme- ditated. He said, that, in his opinion, the chief of the de- fendants' evidence was incredible ; and that, supposing the me- thodists were heterodox, (as perhaps they might be,) it belonged to the ecclesiastical government to call them to an account ; that they were subjects, and riotous men were not to be their reformers. He also reminded them of the dreadful ill conse- quences of rioting at any time, much more at such a critical time as this ; that rioting was the forerunner of, and might end in, rebellion ; that it was felony, without benefit of clergy, to whitefield's life and times. 285 pull down a meeting-house ; and, for all he knew, it was high treason to pull down even a hrothel. That this information came from the King's Bench ; that his Majesty's justices there thought they had sufficient reason to grant it; that the matters contained in it had been evidently proved before them, and consequently they should bring all the defendants in guilty. Upon this the jury were desired to consider of their verdict. There seemed to be some little demur amongst them. His Lordship perceiving it, informed them. They had nothing to do with the damages, (that was to be referred to the King's Bench,) they were only to consider whether the defend- ants were guilty or not, " Whereupon, in a few minutes, they gave a verdict for the pro- secutors, and brought in all the defendants, ' guilty of the whole information lodged against them.' I then retired to my lodg- ings, kneeled down, and gave thanks with some friends to our all-conquering Emmanuel. Afterwards I went to the inn, prayed, and returned thanks with the witnesses, exhorted them to behave with meekness and humility to their adversaries, and after they had taken proper refreshment sent them home re- joicing. In the evening I preached on those words of the psalmist, ' By this I know that thou favourest me, since thou hast not suffered mine enemy to triumph over me.' God was pleased to enlarge my heart much. I was very happy with my friends afterwards, and the next morning set out for London, where we have had a blessed thanksgiving season, and from whence I take the first opportunity of sending you as many par- ticulars of the occasion, progress, and issue of our trial, as I can well recollect. What report his Lordship will be pleased to make of the case, and how the defendants will be dealt with, cannot be known till next term ; when I know I shall apprize you of it, as also of our behaviour towards them. — In the mean while let me entreat you to give thanks to the blessed Jesus in our behalf, and to pray that his word may have free course, may run and be glorified, and a stop be put to all such rebellious proceedings." The Trial, in a Letter to a Friend. Whitefield had also at this time to put some writers as well as rioters upon their defence. An anonymous pamphlet, " On 286 whitefield's life and times. the Conduct and Behaviour of the Methodists," had ohtained no small sanction from the hishops. Indeed, the hishop of Lon- don was reported to be the author of it. The object of it was, to prove the methodists to be dangerous to both church and state, and to obtain an Act of Parliament against them, which would stop their field preaching and conventicles, or compel them " to secure themselves by turning dissenters." The Toler- ation Act, it argued, did not permit their irregularities : and besides, they were enthusiasts ! Parts of this pamphlet seem to have been printed and handed about secretly at first, as feelers of the pulse of the religious societies. Strict injunctions were given to every one who was intrusted with any of them, " not to lend them, nor let them go out of his hands." White- field, however, obtained a sight of them ; and finding that they contained not only charges against himself, but a deep design against religious liberty, he advertised in the newspapers, and demanded their speedy publication, that he might answer them before he went to America. He followed up this advertisement by a private letter to the bishop of London. " My Lord, sim- plicity becomes the followers of Jesus Christ, and therefore I think it my duty to trouble your Lordship with a few lines, con- cerning the anonymous papers which have been handed about in the societies. As I think it my duty to answer them, I should be glad to be informed whether the report be true, that your Lordship composed them, that I may the better know how to an- swer them, A sight also of one of the copies, if in your Lordship's keeping, would much oblige." His Lordship sent word by the bearer, that Whitefield should " hear from him ;" but he forgot his promise. Whitefield heard from the printer, not from the prelate. " Sir, my name is Owen. I am a printer in Amen Corner. I have had orders from several of the bishops to print for their use, such numbers of the ' Observations ' (with some few additions) as they have respectively bespoken. I will not fail to wait on you with one copy, as soon as the impression is finished." Owen kept his word. He did not venture, how- ever, to put his name on the title page of the pamphlet, " to let the world know where, or by whom, it was printed." " It came into the world," says V/hitefield in a letter to the bishop, "like whitefield's life and times, 287 a dropt child, that nobody cares to own. And, indeed, who can be blamed for disowning such a libel ? A more notorious libel has not been published," Left. Whitefield was fully justified in branding the pamphlet thus. It charged the methodists with making " open inroads on the national constitution ;" with 'preiending to be "members of the national church ;" with being " open defiers of government," as well as breakers of " the canons and rubrics." His answer to this, Whitefield addressed, very properly, to " The bishop of London, and the other bishops concerned in the publica- tion" of such charges; taking for his motto the appropriate words, " False witnesses did rise tip : they laid to my charge things I knew notJ' They did not sit down so easily as they rose up ! They told the religious societies, clandestinely, that methodism was unlawful ; and Whitefield told the world, openly, that this mode of attack v/as " like Nero setting fire to Rome, and then charging it on the christians," "I cannot think," he says, " that such a way of proceeding will gain your Lordships any credit from the public — or any thanks from the otJter bishops who have not interested themselves in this affair, and who, I believe, are more noble than to countenance the publi- cation of any such performance," This bold retort upon anonymous slanderers, astounded both the slaves and the sycophants of " superiors." Prebendary Church, the vicar of Battersea, was horrified to find the heads of the church made accountable for a libel they had adopted, if not indorsed. This is the worthy to whom Bolingbroke said, " Let me tell you seriously, that the greatest miracle in the world is, the subsistence of Christianity, and its preservation as a religion, when the preaching of it is committed to the care of such unchristian wretches as you," This tremendous rebuke does not, I think, imply all that the word wretch means. It refers to principles, not to morals, I am led to this conclusion, because Whitefield treats Church respectfully, in answering his pamphlet, and because the following is the true account of the prebendary's interview with the peer. Church found Boling- broke reading Calvin's Institutes, one day, and was surprised. " You have caught me," said the viscount, " reading John Cal- 288 whitefield's life and times. vin. He was, indeed, a man of great parts, profound sense, and vast learning. He handles the doctrines of grace in a very masterly manner." (Strange language from Bolingbroke ! But he had been hearing Whitefield at Lady Huntingdon's the week before.) " Doctrines of grace ! " exclaimed Church, " the doc- trines of grace have set all mankind by the ears." " I am sur- prised," said Bolingbroke, " to hear you say so, who profess to believe and preach Christianity. Those doctrines are certainly the doctrines of the Bible ; and if I believe the Bible I must believe them." Then came the well known rebuke I have quoted. This is the anecdote, as the Countess of Huntingdon was wont to tell it ; and she had it from the lips of Bolingbroke. Toplady. I would not have referred to the prebendary or his pamphlet, had he not become the scape-goat for the bishops he vindicated. There is quite as much of the gospel in his letter to White- field, as in their charges to their clergy. The only thing amusing in Church's letter is its conclusion. He charges Whitefield with glaring inconsistency, in blaming the clergy for non-residence. " You have been more culpable than any of them," he says, in reference to Whitefield's residence at Georgia. He then proceeds to count the times, and the length of each time, that Whitefield was at his post. This was pitiful ; know- ing as he did why the chaplain of the colony travelled. Well might Whitefield say, in answer to this charge, " I wish every non-resident could give as good an account of his non-residence, as I can give of mine. When I was absent from my parishioners, I was not loitering nor living at ease, but begging for them and theirs ; and when I returned, it was not to fleece my flock, and then go and spend it upon my lusts, or to lay up a fortune for myself and my relations." Letter to Church. Whitefield's letter to the bishops called forth another cham- pion of the clandestine papers ; a Pembroke College man, who called himself " a gentleman," although he took a motto from that vilest of all vulgar books, " The Scotch Presbyterian Elo- quence." He did not fail in imitating his original. He finds in Whitefield's letter, instead of " the arguing of the true saint, the ivheedling of the woman ; the daring of the rebel ; the pert- whitefield's life and times. 289 ness of the coxcomb ; the evasions of the Jesuit; and the bitter maliciousness of the hiyot. He classes him with Bonner and Gardiner, as " a fire-brand minister of wrath ;" and with Crom- well, whom he calls " the JVhiteJield of the last century." Why ? Because he " artfully compounded churchmen and dis- senters." " It will be an eternal monument of your disgrace," he says, " that dissenters lived peaceably, according to the na- tional constitution, and preached in licensed places, until you poisoned and corrupted them, by your evil communications." Would he had ! But unfortunately for the dissenters then, Whitefield's influence had brought only two into the fields, as fellow -helpers with him in the gospel. He does not appear to have noticed this Pembroke gentle- man ; but he renewed his attack upon the bishops, when he went to sea. On his voyage, he wrote a second letter to them. They had made the anonymous pamphlet their own, by printing and circulating it at their own expense ; and he held them ac- countable for its doctrines, as well as its politics. It had im- pugned justification by faith, and he stretched them on Luther's rack ; and on what must have been more annoying to their Lordships, the fact, that this doctrine was singled out by Ed- ward VI. and Elizabeth, to be principally taught to the people ; '' First, because it is the chiefest cause and means of our peace with God; second, that ministers might go with a right-foot {opeoTTohilv) to the gospel ; third, because it is the best way ' to discover and suppress Romish antichrist ;' and fourth, because * such bishops as do, by terms of error, schism, or heresy, hin- der this main light of God's word from the people, are the chiefest traitors in the land ; traitors to God, traitors to their king, traitors to their own souls and bodies, and traitors to the whole country." Homily. Gibson remembered this homily when he said, " Justification by faith alone is asserted in the strongest manner by our church :" but he forgot it when he added, " I hope our clergy explain it in such a manner, as to leave no doubt whether good works are a necessary condition of being justified in the sight of God." Pastoral Letter. From this vantage ground, Whitefield assailed both Chil- lingworth and the author of " The Whole Duty of Man," as 290 whitefield's life and times, traitors to this " articuliis stantis ant caiide?itis ecclesice." The latter, he said, had shown only " Half the Duty of Man;'' and the former had made " universal obedience" a necessary con- dition of justification. In like manner^ whilst he begged par- don of the public for saying that Tillotson knew no more of the gospel than Mahomet, (a comparison, by the way, which he had borrowed,) he repeated, that " the good archbishop, in turn- ing people's minds to moral duties, without turning them to the doctrine of justification by faith," erred from the faith. " Incidit in Scyllam, qui vult vitare CharibcTin." He did not embarrass their Lordships less on the subject of re- generation. Their adopted champion had said, " If there be such a thing — as a sudden, instantaneous change." " If there be," says Whitefield ; " does he not lay an axe to the very root of the baptismal ofiice ? If the child be actually regenerated, when the minister sprinkles it, the change must be instantaneous and sudden. If there he any such thing I Do your Lordships assent thereto ? An instantaneous change is the very essence of baptismal regeneration, — that Diana of the present clergy." He concludes this bold appeal thus, " If the whole bench of bishops command us to speak no more of this doctrine, we take it to be an ungodly admonition. Whether it be right in the sight of God, to obey man rather than God, — judge ye ! " Second Letter. These were the public affairs which diverted Whitefield from his private sorrows. The off-hand and unceremonious style in which they are told, can only offend those who venerate titles more than truth. It may be vastly unpolite to treat bishops in this straightforward way, when they pervert the gospel : it is, however, apostolical to pay neither deference nor respect to an angel, if he preach " another gospel " than Paul's. This Gather- cole afl'air of the bishop of liondon cannot be too bluntly told, if such affairs are to be put down. Binney told the last one so well, that there will be fewer Gathercoles patronized in the next century. CHAPTER XII. WHITEFIELD AT CAMBUSLANG. WiiiTEFiELD went in the power of the Spirit from the Pentecost at Moorfields, to the Pentecost at Cambuslang and Kilsyth, in Scotland. His return to the north was, however, wormwood and gall to some of the Associate Presbytery. Adam Gibb, especially, signalized himself on the first sabbath of Whitefield's labours in Edinburgh, by publishing a " Warning against coun- tenancing his ministrations." This pamphlet is so strange, and now so rare, that I must preserve some specimens of it, as me- morials of the provocation as well as opposition given to White- field by the seceders of that day. Most cheerfully, however, do I preface them with Eraser's declaration, that " the violence then discovered by individual members of the Presbytery, has not only been sincerely deplored by their successors in office; but that they themselves lived to repent of the rancour into which the heat of controversy had at first betrayed them." Even Gibb, it is said, wished, on his death-bed, that no copies of his pamphlet were on the face of the earth ; and said, if he could recall every copy he would burn them. My copy was presented by Dr. Erskine to Dr. Ryland, who wrote the following note upon it, — " A Bitter Warning against Mr. Whitefield, by Mr. Gibbs, the Seceder. He became more moderate afterwards, and spoke respectfully of Mr. Hervey's writings, and Mr. Walker's of Truro." I am quite willing that these facts should be borne in mind, whilst the following astounding charges are read. " This man (' Mr. George Whitefield') I have no scruple to 292 whitefield's life and times. look upon as one of the false Chrlsts, of whom the church is forewarned. Matt. xxiv. 24. It is no unusual thing with him, in his journals, to apply unto himself things said of and hy the Christ of God." — " I look upon him, in his public ministrations, to be one of the moBt fatal rocks whereon many are now split- ting."— " That he is no minister of Christ, appears from the manner wherein that office he bears is conveyed to him. He derives it from a diocesan bishop, who derives his office from the king, and the king professes not to be a church officer." — " Mr. Whitefield, in swearing the oath of supremacy, has sworn that Christ is not supreme and sole Head of the church. He will not allege that he hath yet vomited that spiritual poison." — " His uni- versal love proceeds on the erroneous and horrid principle, that God is the lover of all souls, and the God of all churches." — " The horror of this is still more awful, because he hales in our Lord and his apostles to patronize this catholic spirit." — " He breaks off a piece of the glass of truth, and turns his back on the re- mainder : thus, though he hold up that piece of the glass, I say, before his face, he cannot see the h'ue Christ, because his back is toward Him. So then, the doctrine of grace Mr. Whitefield retains, cannot possibly discover the true Christ, because his back is toward him, injlouting away the doctrine that discovers Christ a King of a visible kingdom." — " The doctrine of grace," he publishes, " is carried off" from its true posture, connexion, and use, and applied to a diabolical purpose ; viz. to create a Christ in people's imaginations, as a competition with the true Christ." — " The horror of this scene strikes me almost dumb, I must halt, and give way to some awful ideas that I cannot vent in language. ' Obstupui, steteruntque comse, et Vox faucibus hsesit ! ' " — " The proper and designing author of his scheme, is not Mr. Whitefield, but Satan : and thus our contendings against Mr. W. must be proportioned, not to his design, but Satan's ; while hereof he is an effectual though blinded tool." — " As for the gentleman himself, while he is under a very ruinous delusion, and thereby gathering upon him his own blood, and the blood whitefield's life and times, 293 of multitudes, this his condition loudly requires the pity of all that know him. And I know of no way wherein this can be rightly exercised, without avoiding company with him, that he may he ashamed, 2 Thess. iii. 14. In this manner it is, that we are called to exercise love to his person, and desire of his reco- very : for as his unwarrantable and woeful ministrations must be idolatrous, so idolaters ( JVhiteJield's !) slay their own chil- dren."— " The complex scheme of Mr. W.'s doctrine is diaboli- cal, as proceeding through diabolical influence, and applied to a diabolical use, against the Mediator's glory and the salvation of men." — " What shall be the procedure of God in such a dis- mal case? Can His justice sleep now? No!" — " Forasmuch as Mr. Whitefield's followers do, as such, seek after a Christ, convictions, and conversions, that are really idols, it is therefore to be fearfully expected, that God will, in judgment, answer them accordingly, and send them an idol Christ, and idol conversions, according to their lust. God's great executioner, Satan, must be employed in the producing of such eiFects, He will ajye the work of God's Spirit." — " The doctrine of impressions, which Mr. W. is at pains to teach, is a very necessary part of Satan's doctrine." — " Hence Satan, while kindling men's fancies, must carry them out under strong and blind impulses, frights, freaks, raptures, visions, boastings, blunders, &c." All this, as it stands here, seems mere rant and raving. In the pamphlet, however, it is blended with much acute reasoning upon the subject of the Kingship of Christ. Gibb's grave charge against Whitefield was, that he preached Christ only as a Sa- viour: not meaning, however, that he did not enforce holiness of life ; but that he taught a latitudinarian scheme of church polity, the tendency of which was, to " make men sceptics as to the discipline and government of the house of God." iVnd there is some truth in this. Whitefield knew little and cared less about the visible form of the kingdom of Christ in the world. All his concern was, to see His spiritual kingdom set up in the hearts of individuals. But whilst it is well that this was his chief object, it was well too that others laid more stress than himself upon church government. Gibb laid too much; but Whitefield went to an equally unscriptural extreme. Accord- 294 whitefield's life and times. ingly, Whitefield's societies^ in general, subsided into other churches ; especially in America. It must not be supposed, that Gibb predicted the scenes of Cambuslang or Kilsyth. It was cheap prophesying on July 23rd, 1742, that a lying spirit, working by " the foreigner,''^ (White- field,) would produce " strong impulses, frights, freaks, and visions." The effects, thus exaggerated, had begun at Cam- buslang in the winter of 1741, under the ministry of M'Cullock, the pastor of the parish. " His hearers, in considerable num- bers, were on different occasions so violently agitated, while he preached regeneration, as to fall down under visible paroxysms of bodily agony. But nothing can be more certain, than that the unusual events had been a subject of general observation and inquiry, for many months before Whitefield had ever been at Cambuslang. It is impossible to identify their commence- ment with his labours, by any fair examination of the facts as they occurred." Sir Henry Moncriejf Welwood^s Life of Dr. Erskine. Whitefield did not lessen the effect, however, when he went ; and thus Gibb's tirade, being well timed to Whitefield's visit, seemed prophecy ; for the warning and the work came before the public at large together. It was this coincidence that gave so much point and currency amongst the seceders, to the prover- bial maxim, that ." the wark at Caumuslang ivas a ivark o' the deevil" Seceders were not the only persons, however, that said that Whitefield cast out devils by the power of Beelzebub. Bishop Lavington concludes his examination of the enthusiasm of methodists thus : " If there be any thing in it exceeding the powers of nature ; any thing beyond the force of distemper, or of imagination and enthusiasm artfully worked up ; any thing beyond the reach of juggle and imposture ; (which I take not upon me to affirm or deny ;) in that case, I see no reason against concluding, that it is the work of some evil spirit ; a sort of ma- gical operation, or other diabolical illusion." Lavington, p. 398. Polwheles Ed. Again : " We know that in the latter days, demons should be the authors of many surprising things ; God permitting Satan to work upon the affections of false prophets and evil men." Ibid. 217. Thus prelate and presbyter were whitefield's life and times. 295 equally vulgar and virulent upon this subject ; and, therefore, ought to be placed together at the bar of posterity. Thus caricatured and denounced, Whitefield came to Cam- buslang ; a parish four miles distant from Glasgow. He came by the special invitation of Mr. M'Cullock, the minister of the parish, to " assist at the sacramental occasion, with several wor- thy ministers of the church of Scotland." Gillies says, " he preached no less than three times upon the very day of his arrival, to a vast body of people, although he had preached that same morning at Glasgow. The last of these exercises he began at nine at night, continuing until eleven, when he said he had observed such a commotion among the people, as he had never seen in America. Mr. M'Cullock preached after him, till past one in the morning ; and even then they could hardly persuade the people to depart. All night in the fields might be heard the voice of praise and prayer." Whitefield said to a friend, before going to this sacramental service, " I am persuaded I shall have more power — since dear Mr. Gibb hath printed such a bitter pamphlet." He did not miscalculate. " On Saturday," he says, " I preached to above twenty thousand people. In my prayer the power of God came down and was greatly felt. In my two sermons, there was yet more power. On sabbath, scarce ever was such a sight seen in Scotland. There were undoubtedly upwards of twenty thousand people. A brae, or hill, near the manse of Cambuslang, seemed formed by Providence for containing a large congregation. Two tents were set up, and the holy sacrament was administered in the fields. The communion table was in the field. Many mi- nisters attended to preach and assist, all enlivening and enlivened by one another. " When I began to serve a table, the power of God was felt by numbers ; but the people crowded so upon me, that I was obliged to desist, and go to preach at one of the tents, whilst the ministers served the rest of the tables. God was with them and with his people. On Monday morning I preached to near as many as before : but such a universal stir I never saw before ! The motion fled as swift as lightning, from one end of the audi- tory to another. You might have seen thousands bathed in 296 whitefield's life and times. tears. Some at the same time wringing their hands, others almost swooning, and others crying out, and mourning over a pierced Saviour. " But I must not attempt to describe it. In the afternoon the concern again was very great. Much prayer had been pre- viously put up to the Lord. All night, in different companies, you might have heard persons praying to and praising God. The children of God came from all quarters. It was like the passover in Josiah's time. We are to have another sacrament, in imitation of Hezekiah's passover, in about two or three months. The Messrs. Erskines and their adherents (would you have thought it ?) have appointed a public fast, to humble themselves, among other things, for my being received in Scot- land, and for the delusion, as they term it, at Cambuslang and other places ; and all this, because I would not consent to preach only for them, till I had light into, and could take, the solemn league and covenant. To what lengths may prejudice carry even good men ! " Letters. Before the next sacrament he was suddenly taken ill. The efforts and the excitement overcame him for a short time. " My friends thought I was going off : but how did Jesus fill my heart ! To-day I am, as they call it, much better. In the pulpit, the Lord out of weakness makes me wax strong, and causes me to triumph more and more." — " I feel the power of His precious, live-giving, all-atoning blood more and more every day. I was happy when in London. I am ten times happier now. The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." When the second sacrament came, the scenes of the first were renewed. " Mr. Whitefield's sermons," says Mr. M'Cullock, " were attended with much power; particularly on sabbath night about ten. A very great but decent weeping and mourning was observable throughout the auditory. While serving some tables, he appeared to be so filled with the love of God, as to be in a kind of transport. This second occasion did, indeed, much excel the former, not only in the number of ministers and people, but, which is the main thing, in a much greater increase of the power and special presence of God. The lowest estimate of numbers, with which Mr. Whitefield agrees, and he has been used to great whitefield's life and times. 2d7 multitudes, makes them upwards of thirty thousand. The number of communicants appears to have been about three thousand. Some worthy of credit, and that had opportunities to know, give it as their opinion, that such a blessed frame fell upon the people, that, had they possessed means to obtain tokens, (tickets of admission to the sacrament,) there would have been a thousand more." Robes Narrative. " Some who attended, declared they would not for a world have been absent from this solemnity. Others cried, ' Now let thy servants depart in peace, since our eyes have seen salvation here.' Others wishing, if it were the will of God, to die where they were attending God in his ordinances, without ever returning to the world." Ibid. It will be seen from these extracts that Whitefield did not ex- aggerate the power under which he spoke, although he states it in strong terms. Again, therefore, let him bear witness. " Such a commotion, surely, was never heard of, especially at eleven at night. For about an hour and a half, there was such weeping, so many falling into deep distress, as is inexpressible. The people seem to be slain by scores. They are carried off, and come into the house, like soldiers wounded and carried off a field of battle. Their cries and agonies are exceedingly affecting." This occurred at the first sacrament. Of the second he says, " People sat unwearied till two in the morning. You could scarce walk a yard, without treading on some, either rejoicing in God for mercies received, or crying out for more. Thousands and thousands have I seen, before it was possible to catch it by sympathy, melted down under the word and power of God." Letters. Sir Henry Moncrieff Welwood, in his Life of Dr. Erskine, says, " From this time (Whitefield's visit) the multitudes who assembled were more numerous than they ever had been, or perhaps than any congregation ever before assembled in Scot- land. The religious impressions made on the people were apparently much greater, and more general." These were engrossing scenes. They did not, however, divert Whitefield from any of the ordinary duties of life or godlinesa at the time. Some spy did, indeed, insinuate that he gave but little time to secret devotion at night, after preaching. In an- ZyS VVHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. swer to this charge, he said, " I think not my spirit in bondage, if through weakness of body, or frequency of preaching, I can- not go to God at my usual set times. It is not for me to tell how often I use secret prayer. If I did not use it, — if in one sense I did not pray without ceasing, it would be difficult for me to keep up that frame of mind, which by the divine blessing I daily enjoy. God knows my heart : I would do every thing I could to satisfy all men, and give a reason of the hope that is in me with meekness and fear ; but I cannot satisfy all that are waiting for an occasion to find fault. Let my Master speak for me," Letters. He redeemed time to write the following letter to his mother, also, from Cambuslang : — " Honoured mother, I rejoice to hear that you have been so long under my roof. Blessed be God, that I have a house for my honoured mother to come to ! You are heartily welcome to any thing my house aiFords, as long as you please. If need was, indeed, these hands should administer to your necessities. I had rather want myself, than you should : I shall be highly pleased when I come to Bristol, and find you sitting in your youngest son's house. Oh may I sit with you in the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens ! Ere long your doom, honoured mother, will be fixed. You must shortly go hence and be no more. Your only daughter, I trust, is now in the paradise of God. Methinks I hear her say, ' Come up hither.' I am sure Jesus calls you by his word. May His Spirit enable you to say, ' Lo, I come.' — Oh that my dear mother may be made an everlasting monument of free and sovereign grace ! How does my heart hum with love and duty to you ? Gladly would I wash your aged feet, and lean on your neck, and weep, and pray until I could pray no more." Besides this, and many other private letters, he wrote fre- quently to his coadjutors at the Tabernacle, and to his managers at Georgia. Indeed, at this time, his responsibilities for the orphan-house pressed heavily upon his spirits. " I yet owe upwards of £250 in England, and have nothing towards it. How is the world mistaken about my circumstances ! Worth nothing myself, — embarrassed for others, — and yet looked upon to flow in riches I Our extremity is God's opportunity." So it was ! ■wmitefield's life and times. 299 Before he left Scotland he could say, " Blessed he God, I owe nothing now in England on the orphan-house account. What is due is abroad. At Edinburgh I collected £128 ; at Glasgow £128 ; in all about £300. Since I have been in England, we have got near £1500. The Lord will raise up what we further need." Thus no relative duty was neglected, notwithstanding the multiplicity of his public engagements. He even found time at Cambuslang (just the spot for the task !) to write his letter, entitled " A Vindication and Conjirmation of the Remarkable Work of God in New England; being remarks on a late pamphlet, entitled. The State of Religion in New England, since the Rev. G. Whitefield's arrival there ; in a Letter to a Minister of the Church of Scotland." This pamphlet, like Gibb's " Warning," was intended to depreciate both W^hitefield and his work in Scotland. In answering it, however, he wisely left the work at Cambuslang to vindicate itself, and confined his explanations to New England; that the revivals there might in nowise depend upon those in Scotland for their justification. He also proved pretty fully, although without bringing home the fact to any one, that the pamphlet was altered in Scotland, to suit a purpose. And there are dates of Scotch publications in it, which could not have been known in Boston, when it was written. Hence he asks, " How could that gentleman (the au- thor) see at Boston on May 24th, that Edwards' Sermon was reprinted in Scotland ; which was not done till June following ? I myself was chiefly concerned in publishing it." Besides the great awakening at Cambuslang at this time, there was another similar at Kilsyth, which Whitefield visited also. As might be expected, both were misrepresented by formalists and bigots. The seceders, Whitefield says, " Taking it for granted that God had left the Scotch established church long ago, and that he would not work by the hands of a curate of the church of England, condemned the whole work as the work of the devil ; and kept a fast throughout all Scotland to humble themselves, because the devil was come down in great wrath ; and to pray that the Lord would rebuke the destroyer — for that was my title." Oliphanfs Memoirs. 300 whitefield's life and times. The Associate Presbytery, in their hot zeal to depreciate the conversions, confounded them, like Lavington, with the extra- vagance of fanatics and impostors, Camizars, and the first quakers. They issued from Dunfermline an Act of Presbytery anent a public fast, of which Mr. Robe of Kilsyth says, " It is the most heaven-daring paper that hath been published by any set of men in Britain these three hundred years past." This is a bold charge. It was not, however, advanced in a bad spirit ; as the following appeals and explanations abundantly show, *' My dear brethren, (of the Secession,) my heart's desire and prayer to God for you is, that he may open your eyes to see the many mistakes you labour under. Whatever bitter names you give us, and however you magnify yourselves against us, we take all patiently ; and there are thousands of witnesses that we return you blessing for cursing. We would lay our bodies as the ground, and as the street, for you to go over, if it could in the least contribute to remove jour prejudices, and advance the kingdom of our dear Redeemer." This is humble and'earnest pleading ; and so far as the word "«^'e" includes Mr. Robe and the leaders of the revival, the pleading is honest. It must not, however, be considered as a specimen of the spirit of the clergy, in general, towards the seceders. This being understood, I proceed with the appeal. — " You declare the work of God to be a delusion, and the work of the grand deceiver. Now, my dear brethren, for whom I tremble, have you been at due pains to know the nature and circumstances of this work ? " (Their Act was issued whilst the work was going on.) " Have you taken the trouble to go to any of these places, where the Lord has appeared in his glory and majesty ? Have you so much as written to any of the ministers to receive information of it ? Is it not amazing rashness, with- out inquiry or trial, to pronounce that a work of the devil, which, for any thing you know, may be the work of the infinitely good and holy Spirit \ " " My dear brethren, can you find in your hearts, after all the prayers you have put up in public and private for the outpour- ing of the Spirit upon this poor church and land, to deny that it is He, when he is come ? — Will ye be so fearless, can you be vvhitefield's life and times. 301 so cruel to thousands of perishing sinners, who begin to fly to Jesus Christ as a cloud and as doves to their windows ; as in the most solemn manner, with lifted up eyes and hands, to pray that there may be a restraint upon the influences of the Holy Spirit, and that this outpouring of His grace may be withdrawn, and not spread over the length and breadth of the land?" Mobe^s Preface. It is impossible not to ask, and that with strong emotion too, after reading such remonstrances, — how could such good men as the Erskines withstand these appeals ? Now it is not easy to explain this anomaly, without seeming to palliate its enor- mity. It admits, however, of some explanation. The Ers- kines, on raising the standard of Reformation in Scotland, planted it upon the mount of the solemn league and covenant ; arguing, that God would carry on his work only " in a way of solemn covenanting," as in the days of their " reforming fore- fathers." E. Erskine, on Witnessing for God. With this prin- ciple, Whitefield had no sympathy ; for, whether right or wrong, he did not understand it. He would not therefore submit to it. The reformers also laid it down as a maxim, " that little truths" (at such a time) were " like the little pinnings of a wall, as ne- cessary as the great stones ;" that it was " a false conversion," which " draws men off" from any of the ways of God ;" that " aversion from, and opposition to, the testimony of the time,^* was opposing God. Ralph Erskine^s Sermons, 2nd vol. folio. All this, as they understood it, Whitefield rejected ; and there- fore they rejected him, and defamed his principles, in order to defend their own. " I shall show you, in eight or ten particu- lars," said Ralph in a sermon, " what another God, and what another Christ, is appearing in the delusive spirit of this time, brought in by the instrumentality oi the fo7-eigner (Whitefield); of whom we had some grounds for very favourable thoughts and expectations, till we understood him more fully, and found him in several respects a stranger to our God, and setting up another God." Sermons, folio. The chief ground of this charge, however hollow, is plausible. The Associate Presbytery were asserting the legislative su- premacy of Christ, as King of Zion. The evils they were con- 302 v.hitefield's life and times. tending against in the kirk, had grown out of a long disregard to this sacred principle. Now Whitefield sided with the minis- ters who, however good in other respects, did not " testify " against the violations of this principle ; but against the Seces- sion who avowed and advocated it. Hence, he was identified and denounced with the enemies of church reform. He had joined their ranks, and therefore he had to share in their re- buke, as well as to suffer for mortifying the Presbytery. It was thus the Erskines were tempted to oppose and impugn the re- vivals at Cambuslang and Kilsyth. These revivals checked the kind of reformation, which the Erskines were chiefly plead- ing for. They saw and felt this, and hence they said, " Satan seems content that Christ should preach, providing He do not reign nor rule ; knowing that his doctrine will not be long un- corrupted, if His government can be overturned." Sermons. " The power and policy of hell is at work, to bring any attempt at reformation under contempt." Ihid. Thus the seceders could not imagine that any thing could be another work of God, which was visibly and virtually hindering that work of God which they had so solemnly espoused, and which was so much needed at the time. It became, therefore, a solemn duty, as they supposed, to pour contempt and obloquy upon conver- sions, which were pouring doubt upon the necessity and value of church reform. " That must be a wrong conversion," says Ralph, " that hath no tendency to the public good, but a ten- dency to oppose a public reformation." Sermons. The dejncting power also of Whitefield's oratory, so unlike Scotch reasonings, gave the Erskines another handle against him. Cornelius Winter says of him, " It was not without great pathos, you may be sure, he treated upon the suff'erings of the Saviour. He was very ready at that kind of painting, — which frequently answered the end of real scenery. As though Geth- semane were Avithin sight, he would say, stretching out his hand, — ' Look yonder ! What is it I see ? It is my agonizing Lord ! ' And, as though it were no difficult matter to catch the sound of the Saviour praying, he would exclaim, ' Hark, hark ! — do you not hear ? ' You may suppose that as this oc- curred frequently, the efficacy of it was destroyed : — ^but, no ; whitefield's life and times. 303 though we often knew what was coming, it was as new to us as though we had never heard it before." Jcnfs Life of Winter. Such painting Ralph Erskine had witnessed, and the effect of it upon the people led him to say, " They see a beautiful and glo- rious person presented to their imagination, or to their bodily eye. AVhat a devil, instead of Christ, is this ! " " Never, I think, did Satan appear as an angel of light, so evidently, as in the delusive spirit now spreading." Sermons. On the other hand. Robe and some of his brethren founded a theory upon the vivid images thus produced ; and argued that " imaginary ideas of Christ as man, belonged to saving faith ; or at least, were helpful to the faith of His being God-man." Fraser. Ralph Erskine replied to this theory, in a work, en- titled, " Faith no Fancy, or a Treatise of Mental Images." Well might Fraser say of this book, " it is not every where level to mere ordinary capacities." It is not, indeed ! It proves, however, that the author was a man of extraordinary capacity ; and could be as much at home amongst the depths of metaphysics as amongst the heights of poetry or devotion. It is said, that Reid found in this work the principles on which he afterwards built his System of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. If he did, happily he did not draw the spirit of his philosophy from it. The treatise certainly displays " an extraordinary degree of metaphysical acuteness :" but if it prove any thing against such mental images as Whitefield created, and Robe commended, it stultifies the author's " Gospel Sonnets;" for they are "cham- bers of imagery." It is not necessary to illustrate this retort, to those who have read both the poetry and the philosophy of Ralph Erskine ; and the point of it could not be explained to those who have not read both. Suffice it to say, that his son- nets refute his system, and have survived it, although they are often Q,s fantastical as they are devotional. It is amusing to read the charges and disclaimers of the parties in Scotland, upon the subject of religious liberty. The Asso- ciate Presbytery gravely charged the revivalists in the kirk " with pleading for a boundless* toleration and liberty of con- science :" no great crime, as we now judge. Not so, however, did the revivalists of that day deem it. The imputation roused 304 whitefield's life and times. then, however, the Scotch blood of even the kind-hearted and liberal Robe. " Where and when did we that ? " he exclaims. " I know none of my brethren ever did it : and I am so far con- scious of my innocence, that I insist upon your making your charge good. If you do not, as I am sure you cannot, it is no pleasure to me, that you give reason to the world to reckon you slanderers." How true it is, that nations are " slowly wise, and meanly just;" and that even good men are seldom wiser than their times ! Whitefield's visits would have been a blessing to Scotland, had they led to nothing but a canvassing of the rights of con- science ; for he was far ahead of both parties on the subject of religious liberty. Another handle against the Cambuslang and Kilsyth revivals, was, the physical effects of the awakening. " We have convul- sions instead of convictions," said Erskine. He might and ought to have known, that this was not true of one in six of the converts. " They are greatly mistaken, who imagine, that all those who have been observably awakened, have come under faintings, tremblings, or other bodily distresses. These have been by far i\\e: fewest number." Rohe. Notwithstanding this assurance from the principal witness, the Erskines went on to confound the exceptions with the rule, in these conversions. Even in 1765, the editor of Ralph's Sermons kept up this mis- representation, and said, in a note, " the subjects of the extra- ordinary work" were " strangely agitated by strong convulsions, fearful distortions, foamings, and faintings." This is caricature, not history. In 1742, the instances of " conversion carried on in a calm, silent, quiet manner, for six months, are the more numerous and unquestionable." Rohe. Whitefield's visit oc- curred in this period. Besides, even Ralph Erskine himself could not always prevent, though he reproved, " clamorous noise," under his own ministry. Faith no Fancy. Appendix 1o Preface. But these effects have been sufficiently explained in the American department of this volume. It would be wrong, after having quoted so often from Ralph Erskine's Sermons, were I not to say even of the sermons which whitefield's life and times. 305 are most disfigured with tirades against Whitefield and the re- vivals, that they are full of evangelical truth, and flaming with love to immortal souls, and as faithful to the conscience, as any that Whitefield preached at Camhuslang. Indeed, had they been preached on the hrae-head, at the great sacrament there, Erskine would as surely have " slain his hundreds," as White- field did " his thousands," CHAPTER XIII. WHITEFIELD ITINERATING. On returning from Cambuslang to London, Whitefield found, says Gillies, " the Tabernacle enlarged, and a new awakening" begun. As might be expected, he was just in the right spirit for turning both facilities to the best account. Remembering the unction he enjoyed in Scotland, he wrote to a friend on arriving at London, " \feel it — I feel it noiv, and long to preach again ! " When he did, he soon had occasion to inform one of his Cambuslang companions, " Our glorious Emmanuel blesses me in like manner, now he has brought me to England," This flourishing state of the Tabernacle society, now equally large and harmonious, enabled him to forget all his old griev- ances, and to renew his wonted spirit towards the Wesleys. They were then triumphing gloriously at Newcastle, and he *' heartily rejoiced" in their success. He wrote to one of their friends thus :— " I am dead to parties now, and freed from the pain which, on that account, once disturbed the peace of my soul. I redeem time from sleep rather than your letter should not be answered." His letters at this time are full of a holy impatience to get out of his " winter-quarters," pleasant as they were, and to en- ter upon a " fresh campaign." His old friends in the country, and especially in Wales, were crying out for him, to do there what he had done in Scotland. He could not, however, gratify them at once. Persecution had begun to harass some of his coadjutors in Wales and Wiltshire ; and therefore he kept upon his vantage ground in London, to expose and defeat it. Ac- cordingly, he appealed thus to the bishop of Bangor, on behalf whitefield's life and times. 307 of Cennick, who had been " shamefully used " in that diocese : " In Wales they have little fellowship meetings, where some well-meaning people meet together, simply to tell what God hath done for their souls. In some of these meetings, I believe, Mr. C. used to tell his experience, and to invite his companions to come and be happy in Jesus Christ He is, therefore, indicted as holding a conventicle ; and this, I find, is the case of one if not two more. Now, my Lord, these persons, thus indicted, as far as I can judge, are loyal subjects to his Majesty, and true friends to, and attendants upon, the church of England service. You will see by the letters (I send with this) how unwilling they are to leave her. And yet, if all those acts against per- sons meeting to plot against church and state, were put in ex- ecution against tliem, what must they do ? They must be obliged to declare themselves dissenters. I assure your Lord- ship it is a critical time for Wales. Hundreds, if not thousands, will go in a body from the church, if such proceedings are coun- tenanced. I lately wrote them a letter, dissuading them from separating from the church -, and I write thus freely to your Lordship, because I would not have such a fire kindled in or from your Lordship's diocese." To this letter the bishop re- turned a prompt and polite answer, promising to hear both sides. What he did eventually, I know not. However, six months afterwards, Whitefield found some difficulty, though he carried his point, in preventing a separation from the church in Wales ; as we shall soon see. The next case of persecution which he had to resist, came to him from Wiltshire. It was of a kind not altogether cured by another century of " the march of intellect." It was this : " The ministers of Bramble, Segery, Langley, and many others, have strictly forbidden the overseers and churchwardens to let any of the C s (Cennickites ?) have any thing out of the parish ; and they obey them, and tell the poor, if they cannot stop them from following any other way (than the church !) they wiW/amisk them. Several of the poor, having large fami- lies, have already been denied any help. Some, out of fear, de- nied they ever came, (to the conventicle,) and others have been made to promise they will come no more ; whilst the most part X 2 308 whitefield's life and times, come at the loss of friends and all they have. When the offi- cers threatened some to take away their pay, they answered, " If you starve us we will go ; and rather than forbear, we will live on grass like kine." These facts, in this form, Whitefield submitted to the bishop of Old Sarum ; telling his Lordship plainly, that if C left the church, "hundreds would leave it with him." The effect, as usual, is not known. The only thing certain is, that both per- secution and petty annoyance went on in most quarters. Whitefield having done what he could by letters, left Lon- don to visit these disturbed districts, and attend the associa- tions of the Welch methodists. On his way he preached at Hampton Common, to about "twelve thousand." Gillies does not mention the occasion. It was this. " A man was hung in chains" there, that day. " A more miserable spectacle," says Whitefield, " I have not seen. I preached in the morning to a great auditory, about a mile oiF from the place of execution. I intended doing the same after the criminal was turned off; but the weather was very violent. Thousands and thousands came and staid to hear ; but through misinformation, kept on the top of the hill while I preached at the bottom." From this he went to Dursley, one of the seats of persecu- tion, to dare the consequences ; but although the mob had taken down an itinerant on the sabbath before, " no one was permitted to touch or molest " him. " The word came (upon them) with a most gloriously convincing power." He then went to his Tump again at Hampton. " I cannot tell you," he says, " what a solemn occasion that was ! They do, indeed, hang on me to hear the word. It ran, and was glorified. Preaching in Gloucestershire now, is like preaching at the Tabernacle." After preaching at Bristol and Bath, he went to Waterford in South Wales, and there presided at the Jirst Association of the Welch Calvinistic Methodists. All who know how much Wales owes to the meetings of this union, and how often and signally they have been Pentecostal scenes, well accounting for, if not excusing, the shouts of " Gogumiyant, hendyitti^'' will learn with pleasure that Whitefield "opened the Association." whitefield's life and times. 300 Gillies. " I opened, with a close and solemn discourse on walking with God. Afterwards we betook ourselves to business ; settling the affairs of the societies, till about two in the morn- ing." Next day, they sat till midnight. " All acknowledged God was with them." Thus began that which eventually im- mortalized Bala (bach !) and sainted Charles. In the spirit of this meeting he went to Cardiff, and again made " the greatest scoffers quiet." But at Swansea, the effect was so great, that he wrote off to a friend after preaching, " Swansea is taken ! I never preached with a more convincing- power. Free grace for ever ! " From this he went to Caer- marthen, and preached from " the top of the Cross." The great sessions were then sitting. " The justices," he says, " de- sired I would stay till they rose, and they would come. Ac- cordingly, they did, and many thousands more, and several people of quality." He was still more pleased, however, with an audience " of several thousand souls at Jefferson," because they were " very like the Kingstvood colliers ; and at Llassivran, because he had, " as it were, a Moorjields congregation," and chiefly, because "Jerusalem sinners bring most glory to Christ." Whilst thus in what he calls " a new and very unthought-of world," a clergyman in the neighbourhood of Larn preached against him by name on the sabbath day, much and violently. This defeated its own purpose. To his surprise, on crossing the ferry at Larn, one vessel fired a salute, and several hoisted their flags as tokens of respect and welcome. During this itineracy in Wales he travelled, he says, " four hundred miles in three weeks, spent three days in attending two associations, preached about forty times, visited about thirteen towns, and passed through seven counties." Lett. 514. At the close of this tour, his first question to himself was, " Where shall I go next ? " He was at a loss to determine. " A visit to York- shire would be very agreeable. Perhaps Exeter and Cornwall may be the next places. That is dry ground. I love to range in such places." He determined, however, to make, first, one more attack upon the prince of darkness in Moorfields. This he did ; and one of its effects was, that he was enabled to remit £25 to Georgia, in addition to £100 sent out by his brother's ship a lit- 310 whitefield's life and times. tie before, " Grace, grace," he exclaims in his letter to Haber- sham, " I have paid all that is clue in England, and have sent you £25 by the bearer. God willing, I will remit you more soon." After a few weeks, he left London again for Gloucestershire, to " strengthen the persecuted," or to share the brunt with Cen- nick, of whom he was very fond. He thus describes him at this time : " He is truly a great soul ! one of those weak things, which God has chosen to confound the strong. Such a hardy worker with his hands, and hearty preacher at the same time, I have scarce known. All call him a second Bunyan." Having countenanced and consoled Cennick, he went to Bristol. On his arrival he learnt that the king had fought and conquered in Germany. Whitefield did not know before, that George had joined the army. He, therefore, said, with his characteristic simplicity and loyalty, " I had observed for some time past, when praying for him, that, whether I would or not, out came this petition, — Lord, cover thou his head in the day of battle. While praying, I wondered why I prayed so ; not knowing he was gone to fight. This gave me confidence." Lett. 124. He had need of it ; for his own day of battle was at hand. A letter came to him from his itinerant at Hampton, urging him to place himself in the breach. The appeal, as will be seen, was not likely to be lost on Whitefield. " On sabbath morning," says the writer, " about twenty of the society met. In the afternoon, the mob came to my house, demanding me to come down. I asked, by what authority they did so ? They swore they would have me. Then said I, you shall, so they took me to the lime-pit, (for skins,) and threw me in. But oh, what a power of God was on my soul ! I thought, with Stephen, the heavens opened to my sight, and the Lord Jesus was ready to receive me. I believe my undaunted courage shook some of them. I told them, I should meet them at the judgment-seat, and then their faces would gather paleness. They let me out, — and I came home and prayed with the people who were there. After that, I ex- horted. And when I was concluding, the mob came again, and took me to a brook to throw me in there. They told me, they would let me go, if I would forbear preaching for a month. I would n)ake no such promise. So forward I went. One of them whitefield's life and times. 311 threw me in, and I went to the bottom, but came up again, with my hands clasped together. I did not desire to come out until they fetched me. Accordingly, in jumped one or two of them, and took me out. But then, one maliciously and cowardly pushed me in again, and much cut and bruised one of my legs against a stone. Some of the others were going to throw him in for doing so. I came home talking with them. Many seemed to repent of what they had done, and promised to molest me no more. The chief says, he will in nowise touch me again. Many advise us to prosecute them : but if they are quiet, I am con- tent, and can say from the heart, ' Father, forgive them.' I should be glad if you would be here next Sunday." Thomas Adams. Whitefield was soon on the spot ! " On Thursday I came here, and expected to be attacked ; because I had heard that the mob had threatened that, if ever I came there again, they would have a piece of my black gown to make aprons with. No sooner had I entered the town, but I heard and saw the signals ; such as blowing of horns, and ringing of hells, for gathering the mob. .My soul was kept quite easy. I preached on a large glass-plat. I finished just as the ringleader of the mob broke in upon us. One of them called me coward. I then went to the house and preached on the stair-case, to a large number of seri- ous souls : but the troublers in Israel soon came in to mock and mob us. But, feeling what I never felt before, as I have very little natural courage, — strength and power from above, — I leaped down-stairs ; and all ran away before me. However, they con- tinued making a noise about the house till midnight ; abusing the poor people as they went home, and, as we hear, they broke one young lady's arm in two places. " Hearing that two or three clergymen were in the town, one of whom was a justice of the peace, (query, of the war ?) I went to them : but, alas, — they laid the cause of all the grievance at my door ; but, by the help of my God, I shall persist in preach- ing, and in encouraging those to do so, who are moved by the Holy Ghost. As I came out from the clergymen, two of the unhappy mobbers were particularly insolent, and huzzaed us out of town. Let us ' rejoice and be exceeding glad,' for now, I 312 whitefield's life and times, humbly hope, I begin to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, since to sujfer for Him is given unto me." WTiitefield had to " appeal unto Ceesar" for justice, in this case. The trial of the Hampton rioters came on very soon after the sudden death of his only son; and as the preparation and bustle of the alFair diverted him somewhat from brooding upon his loss, I have connected the report with his domestic life. About this time, a motion was made at one of the associations in Wales, whilst Whitefield was present, to separate from the established church. This grieved him much, although it was made only by " a few contracted spirits," as he calls them, " By far the greater part most strenuously opposed it," and agreed to go on as usual, because they enjoyed such " great liberty under the mild and paternal government of his Majesty." Thus, with all his attachment to the church, Whitefield was too honest to ascribe any of his liberty to her government. His definition of liberty, at this association, is characteristic of him- self and his coadjutors ; — " the privilege of ranging up and down, preaching repentance to those multitudes, who come neither to church nor meeting, but who are led from curiosity to follow us into the fields ;" — a privilege, which very few exei-cise now, how- ever many would contend for it. The crushing of Sidmouth's bill was not followed by much field preaching. In the course of his itineracy this year, Whitefield visited Exeter twice, and created a stir which turned the bishop into ^, pampldeteer. Lavington had heard of the " enthusiasm of the methodists," and now he saw it. It drew ten thousand of his flock out to Southern Bay, and several of his clergy out of their stalls into the fields, to hear Whitefield. Some of the latter, however, " went off," when " the Lord made way for himself into the hearts of the people." Having introduced this leaven into the city, Whitefield left it to ferment for two months, and then returned, determined to be " all heart and all humility, at the same time." The result was, " the common people began to feel, and even some of the joo//^e were much affected," although in the fields. This will account for Lavington's tirades against itinerant preaching. The bishop had the insolence to insinuate, though not the boldness to say, that the methodist preachers. avhitefield's life and times. 313 " as well as St. Anthony, were attended with a sturdy set of fol- lowers, as their guards, armed with clubs under their clothes, menacing and threatening such as should dare to speak lightly of their apostle. I have often heard it affirmed." In the same mean spirit Lavington chose to forget, that itineracy had been practised by other churches than St. Anthony's. Knox provided for it in Scotland, in his " First Book of Discipline." Queen Elizabeth appointed twelve, to travel continually. By the way, who pockets the salary of the church-itineracy now ; for the work is neglected ? Whitefield knew both the legitimacy of his office and the need of it ; and therefore persisted in Exeter, until the bishop saw nearly " a third part of the city " attending on " the word preached" in the fields; and until he himself could say, " I am here, as in Scotland and New England. Praise to free grace ! Here is work enough for months. The weather is favourable : range, therefore, I must and will ! " Lett. On the morning of the last day of his visit, he went to Ottery to preach in the market-place : but just as he named his text, the hells rang. He then went to the fields, and the people ran after him " in droves." On his way, one of the clergymen, with the same zeal as the bell-ringers, questioned his authority, and denounced the meeting as illegal and as a riot. " I answered him pertinently, as I thought, and showed my authority by preaching from these words, ' GO ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.' " Next day he went to Biddeford, and was much pleased to find there a clergyman, nearly eighty years of age, who had lately preached three times in one day, and rode forty miles : but says Whitefield, "he is not above one year old in the school of Christ." " Dear Hervey," he says, " laid the blessed foundation, whilst a curate here." Such was the " Edinburgh-like " effect of a sermon in the dissenting chapel, that he wrote off to the Tabernacle, " I cannot think of nestling in London. I am more and more convinced, that I should go from place to place." Accordingly, instead of nestling, he flew into Cornwall, and alighted once again in a church, at St. Gennis. " Many, many prayers," it seems, " had been put up by the good rector and others, for an out- pouring of God's blessed Spirit." — " They were answered. 314 whitefield's life and times. Arrows of conviction fled so thick and fast, and such a universal weeping prevailed from one end of the congregation to the other, that good Mr. J could not help going from seat to seat to comfort the wounded souls." After preaching some time in Cornwall thus, he said, " But I must away to Biddeford, just to give Satan another stroke, and then return the way I came to the great metropolis." It was now winter ; " but the Lord," he says, " warms my heart." In this spirit he came to Birmingham. There he heard of the mobs which had been stirred up at Wednesbury, against the Wesleyans, by a sermon in the church ; of which Wesley says, " I never heard so wicked a sermon, delivered with such bitterness of voice and manner." Its effect, as is well known, was almost murder. Ill as Adams was treated at Hamp- ton, it was mercifully, compared with the fiend-like assault upon Wesley. Whitefield went to Wednesbury, and was well received. " I cannot tell you," he says, " what a sweet melting time there was. Many were in tears." Next day, however, whilst preach- ing at Mare Green, in the neighbourhood, " several clods were thrown," one of which fell on his head, and another struck his fingers, whilst he was praying. He then returned to Birming- ham, and preached to many thousands on a common, with great effect. When he went on the ground, a regiment of soldiers were exercising ; but the officers, when they saw him, dismissed them, and promised that there should be no dis- turbance. Whitefield closed this itineracy by a visit to his old friend Mr. Williams of Kidderminster. In his house, he recognised " a sweet savour," amongst the visitors, " of good Baxter's doctrine, works, and discipline, remaining until this day." That savour he did not find in Baxter's church ; its bells were rung whilst he was preaching ; and that by men who " had promised not to do so." On his return to London, Whitefield had to sustain the loss of his child, to prosecute the Hampton rioters, and to answer some pamphlets, as well as to prepare for revisiting America. In June, 1744, he engaged his passage from Portsmouth; but the captain of the vessel refused to let him onboard, when the time whitefield's life and times. 315 to sail came, iest he should " spoil the sailors." He had, there- fore, to go to Plymouth for a vessel. Whilst at Plymouth, he had a very narrow escape from being murdered. On the night of his arrival, a hear and drum were paraded on the ground where he was expected to preach. He did not, therefore, preach that night. Next night he did ; and after returning to his inn, some ruffians, under the pretence of a " hue-and-cry " warrant, broke into his room, and insulted him. This led him to remove to private lodgings. Again he preached and visited the French prisoners, without any thing happening to awaken fear or suspicion. That night, however, his landlady informed him, that " a well-dressed gentleman desired to speak with him." — " Imagining," he says, " that it was some Nicode- mite, I desired him to be brought up. He came, and sat down by my bedside ; told me he was a lieutenant of a man of war ; congratulated me on the success of my ministry, and expressed himself much concerned from being detained from hearing me. He then asked me if I knew him ? I answered, no. He re- plied, his name was Cadogan. I rejoined, I had seen one Mr. Cadogan, formerly an officer at Georgia, about a fortnight ago at Bristol. Upon this, he immediately rose up, uttering the most abusive language ; calling me dog, rogue, villain ; and beat me most unmercifully with his gold-headed cane. As you know I have not much natural courage, guess how surprised I was ! Being apprehensive that he intended to shoot or stab me, I underwent all the fears of a sudden, violent death. " It providentially happened, that my hostess and her daughter, hearing me cry ' murder,^ rushed into the room, and seized him by the collar. However, he immediately disengaged himself from them, and repeated his blows upon me. The cry of ' mur- der ' was repeated ; which putting him in some terror, he made towards the chamber-door, from whence the good woman pushed him down-stairs. " At the bottom, a second cried out, ' Take courage, I am ready to help you.' Accordingly, whilst the other was escaping, he rushed up ; and, finding one of the women coming down, he took her by the heels, and threw her upon the stairs, by which her back was almost broken. By this time, the neighbourhood 316 whitefield's life and times. was alarmed. Unwilling to add to it, I desired the doors to be shut, and retired to rest." This mysterious affair Whitefield did not prosecute for, al- though much urged to do so. " I am better employed," he says, " being greatly blessed in preaching the gospel. I was well paid for what I had suffered ; curiosity having led, perhaps, two thousand more than ordinary to see and hear a man that had like to have been murdered in his bed. Thus all things work for the furtheraiace of the gospel. ' Thus Satan thwarts, and men object, And yet the thing they thwart, effect.' " The only explanation of this outrage that I know of, only rendered it more mysterious. " I had," he says, " some parti- cular information about the late odd adventure. It seems, four gentlemen came to the house of one of my friends, kindly in- quiring for me ; and desiring to know where I lodged, that they might come and pay their respects. He directed them. Some time afterwards, I received a letter, informing me that the writer was a nephew to Mr. S , an eminent attorney at New York ; that he had the pleasure of supping with me at his uncle's house ; and desired my company to sup with him and a few more friends at a tavern. I sent him word, that it was not customary for me to sup out at taverns ; but should be glad of his company, out of respect to his uncle, to eat a morsel with him at my lodgings. He came. We supped; and I observed that he looked around him frequently, and seemed very absent. But having no sus- picion, I continued in conversation with him and my other friends, until we parted. " This, I now find, was to have been the assassin. On being interrogated by his companions, on his return to the tavern, about what he had done, he answered, that being so civilly used he had not the heart to touch me. Upon which, as I am in- formed, the person who assaulted me laid a wager of ten guineas that he would do my business for me. Some say, that they took his sword from him ; — which I suppose they did, for I saw and felt only the weight of his cane." The deserved odium of this dastardly attack must be equally whitefield's life and times. 317 divided between England and America. That the volunteer assassin was an American, there can be no more doubt, than that the bravo was an Englishman. Whitefield could not have mistaken the former. Indeed, it was " out of respect " to the uncle in New York, that he welcomed the nephew without hesitation. He availed himself adroitly of the notoriety thus given to him in Plymouth, to divide public attention with the bishop of the diocese, who was there at the time confirming. " Could you think it," he says, " I have been preaching a confirmation sermon ? Do you ask me where ? In a quakers field. As I saw thousands flocked to the church to have the bishop's hand im- posed upon them, I thought it not improper to let them have a word of exhortation suitable to the occasion." This confirmation sermon produced one good effect, equal at least to any that resulted from the confirmation itself. The late Rev. Henry Tanner, then a young man, and a ship-builder, had just come to Plymouth, in search of employment at the dock. Whitefield's powerful voice from the field arrested his attention, and that of his fellow-workmen. They deemed him mad, and determined to capsize him from his block. Nor was this all : they went, not only to throw him down from his stand, but with their pockets full of stones, " to injure the mad parson." Dr. Haicker's Life of Tanner. Tanner's resolution failed him, when he saw Whitefield with open arms and gushing tears, entreating " poor, lost sinners " to come to Christ. He went home much impressed, and resolved to hear the preacher again next evening. He did. The text was, " Beginning at Jerusalem." Whitefield " depicted the cruel murder of the Lord of life " there. Then, turning to the spot where Tanner stood, he said, " You are reflecting on the cruelty of these inhuman butchers, who imbrued their hands in innocent blood." At this moment his eye fell upon Tanner, and his lips said, " Thou art the man." The convicted sinner was forced to cry, " God be merciful to me." Whitefield saw the eff'ect, and met the emotion with a burst of tenderness which cheered the penitent. Another sermon, on Jacob's vision of the Bethel ladder, led Tanner up to the Lamb slain in the 318 whitefield's life and times. midst of the throne, and thus gave him both joy and peace in beheving. The advances he made, from this time, in rehgious knowledge and experience, were great and rapid. They eventually en- couraged and enabled him to preach the everlasting gospel to others. This he did with such success, that even Dr. Hawker (that strange compound of spirituality and absurdity) acknow- ledges, that Tanner seldom preached "one sermon in vain." Tanner's frequent prayer was, that he might die in his Master's work. His petition was granted. He broke down in the pulpit, before he could finish his sermon ; and soon fell asleep in Jesus. Life hy Hcncker. This was not the only good effect of Whitefield's detention at Plymouth. Some of the very persons who opposed him at first, offered him " a piece of ground, surrounded with walls, for a society house." No wonder : for he came from the docks every evening, " with great companies, singing and praising God." Letters. As he was now about to leave for America, he com- municated the glad tidings of this new opening to Cennick ; and wrote to those who had most influence over him — " Brother Cennick must come to these parts soon." One thing he wrote for his encouragement was, that the ferrymen, who were like Levi at the receipt of custom, would take nothing of the multi- tude who came to hear him preach. They said, " God forbid that we should sell the word of God." Thus preserved and blessed, he embarked for America with two New England friends. CHAPTER XIV. WHITEFIELD ITINERATING IN AMERICA. 1744. " In the beginning of August, 1744, Whitefield embarked^ though in a poor state of health ; and after a tedious pas,sage of eleven weeks, arrived at York." Gillies. He sailed from Ply- mouth, with nearly a hundred and fifty ships, under several con- voys. It was, however, " full six weeks " before they reached the Western islands. This was owing to the want of wind. When the wind did spring up, one of the vessels, which missed stays, drove right upon his ship ; striking her mainsail into the bowsprit. Whitefield's vessel, being large, sustained little dam- age ; but the other received a blow, which disabled and well nigh sunk her. The cries and groans of her crew, he says, " were awful ! " He had been singing a hymn on deck when the concus- sion took place. This fact, with the news of the concussion, was communicated to the convoy. It drew out, he says, the remark, " This is your praying, and be damned ! with many sayings of the like nature." He adds, " this, I must own, shocked me more than the striking of the ship." It did not, however, stop nor intimidate him. " I called my friends together, and broke out into these words in prayer ; God of the sea, and God of the dry land, this is a night of rebuke and blasphemy. Show thyself, O God, and take us under thine own immediate protec- tion. Be thou our Convoy, and make a difference between those who fear thee, and those that fear thee not." Providence soon made a difference ! Next day, a " violent 320 whitefield's life and times. Euroclydon arose," which " battered and sent away our convoy, so that we saw him no more all the voyage." Letters. White- field, at first, thought this " no loss :" but when two strange sail appeared in the distance, and preparation was made for action, by mounting guns, slinging hammocks on the sides of the ship, and encircling the masts with chains, he (being " naturally a coward," as he says) found it " formidable " to have no convoy. The vessels were, however, only part of their own fleet. This was a pleasant discovery to more than the skulking chaplain in the holes of the ship. " The captain, on clearing the cabin, said, ' After all, this is the best fighting.' You may be sure I con- curred, praying that all our conflicts with spiritual enemies might, at last, terminate in a thorough cleansing, and an eternal purification of the defiled cabin of our hearts." Letters. No other accident occurred during the voyage. Its tedious- ness overcame his patience, however, when he saw the port. In order to land a few hours sooner than the vessel, he went on board a smack in the bay ; but darkness coming on, she missed her course, and was tossed about all night. Unfortunately, too, she had no provisions, and he was so hungry that he " could have gnawed the very boards." Besides this, he was suffering from " nervous cholic." Altogether he was thoroughly morti- fied, until a man, lying at his elbow in the cabin, began to talk of "one Mr. Whitefield, for whose arrival the neto lights in New England " were watching and praying. " This," he says, " made nie take courage. I continued undiscovered ; and in a few hours, in answer, I trust, to new-light prayers, we arrived safe." He was received at York by a physician, once a notorious deist, who had been converted under his ministry. This was a signal providence : for in about half an hour after he entered the doctor's house, he became racked with cholic, and convulsed from the " waist to the toes." A " total convulsion " was appre- hended by the physician. He himself dreaded delirium, and implored his weeping wife and friends not to be " surprised if he uttered any thing wrong." Both fears, however, were soon allayed : but he was brought so low, that he could not " bear the sound of the tread of a foot, or the voice of friends." Four whitefield's life and times. 321 days elapsed before nature could be relieved ; and for weeks he had to be carried like a child. The fact is, he had eaten " eagerly " of some potatoes, during his gnawing hunger on board the smack, and they had remained on the stomach undi- gested. They were not even " discoloured " when they were removed. When Whitefield recovered, the excellent though eccentric Moody, the minister of York, called upon him, and accosted him thus: " Sir, you are first welcome to America; secondly, to New England ; thirdly, to all faithful ministers in New Eng- land ; fourthly, to all the good people in New England ; fifthly, to all the good people of York ; and sixthly and lastly, to me, dear Sir, less than the least of all." This welcome was followed by an urgent request for a sermon. Whitefield hesitated for a time ; but " good old Mr. Moody " did not give him the benefit of his own favourite maxim, " When you know not what to do, — you must not do you know not what." This, however, he did. He preached, and immediately after went over the ferry to Portsmouth. As might be expected, he caught cold, and was again brought to the gates of death. Three physicians attended him during the night. With his usual simplicity, he says, " My pains returned ; but what gave me most concern was, that notice had been given of my being to preach next evening. I felt a divine life distinct from my animal life, which made me, as it were, laugh at my pains, though every one thought I was * taken with death. My dear York physician was then about to administer a me- dicine. I, on a sudden, cried out. Doctor, my pains are sus- pended : by the help of God, I '11 go and preach, — and then come home and die ! With some difficulty I reached the pulpit. All looked quite surprised, as though they saw one risen from the dead. Indeed, I was as pale as death, and told them they must look upon me as a dying man, come to bear my dying testimony to the truths I had formerly preached to them. All seemed melted, and were drowned in tears. The cry after me, when I left the pulpit, was like the cry of sincere mourners when attend- ing the funeral of a dear departed friend. Upon my coming home, I was laid on a bed upon the ground, near the fire, and Y 322 whitefield's life and times. I heard them say, ' He is gone ! ' But God was pleased to order it otherwise. I gradually recovered." Gillies has added to this account an interesting anecdote, from some of Whitefield's papers. " A poor negro woman insisted upon seeing the invalid, when he began to recover. She came in, and sat down on the ground, and looked earnestly in his face. She then said, in broken accents, ' Massa, you just go to heaven's gate. But Jesus Christ said. Get you down, get you down, you must not come here yet : go first, and call some more poor negroes.' I prayed to the Lord that, if I was to live, this might be the event." Gillies. He thought himself " dying indeed," when he was laid near the fire, after preaching. But when he recollected " the life and power which spread all around," whilst '"' expecting to stretch into eternity," he said, " I thought it was worth dying for a thousand times ! " In three weeks after, he was able to go to Boston, though still very weak. His arrival was announced thus in Prince's Christian History : " The Rev. George White- field was so far revived, as to be able to set out from Portsmouth to Boston, whither he came in a very feeble state, the Monday evening after : since which he has been able to preach in several of our largest houses of public worship, with great and growing success. He comes with the same extraordinary spirit of meek- ness, sweetness, and universal benevolence, as before. In oppo- sition to the spirit of separation and bigotry, he is still for hold- ing communion with all protestant churches. In opposition to enthusiasm, he preaches a close adherence to the Scriptures, and the necessity of trying all impressions by them, and of rejecting as delusions whatever is not agreeable to them. In opposition to antinomianism, he preaches up all kinds of relative and religious duties — though to be performed in the strength of Christ ; and in short, the doctrines of the church of England, and of the first fathers of this country. As before, he applies himself to the imderstanding of his hearers, and then to their affections. And the more he preaches, the more he convinces people of their mistakes about him, and increases their satisfaction." Prince. This defence was not needless at the time. Both calumny and caricature had been busy at Boston against Whitefield. Har- whitefield's life and times. 323 vard College, and half-penny squibs, called " testimonies," united against him. A good old puritan of the city said of the testimonies, " they do not weigh much :" this was equally true of the inore learned charges from the college. Accordingly neither weighed with the public. They soon offered to build for Whitefield " the largest place of worship that was ever seen in America." This he declined. He did not decline, however, when the people voted him into the pulpits of their " shy pas- tors." This led him to say, in reference to the old joke, " that the lord brethren of New England could tyrannize as well as the lord bishops of Old England," — " Well is it at present, that the people are lord brethren ; for they have passed votes of invita- tion to me to preach in the pulpits !" Had he been himself at the time, however, he would have gone into the fields. The coolness and shyness of many ministers did not surprise him now. When he was the guest of Governor Belcher, on his former visit to Boston, he quite understood the " civil nod " of the clergy, at table ; and said, at the time, " many who are now extremely civil, will turn out my open and avowed enemies." They did ; and he said now, " I have been no false prophet." Still he felt the difference, when the clergy, " freed from re- straints, appeared in jmris naiuralihus" Letters. He found that " the good old man (Moody) judged too much by his own honest feelings," when he welcomed him " to all the faithful ministers of New England." But Whitefield soon forgot all who forgot him at Boston, when the high sheriff, who was once the leader of the persecution, began to hear him, and especially when his " spiritual levees," for the awakened, became crowded. At one of them, a very singular Bostonian visited him ; — a man of ready wit and racy humour, who delighted in preaching over a bottle to his boon companions. He had gone to hear White- field, in order to get up a new " tavern harangue :" but when he had caught enough of the sermon for his purpose, and thus wanted to quit the church for the inn, " he found his endeavours to get out fruitless, he was so pent up." Whilst thus fixed, and waiting for " fresh matter of ridicule," he was arrested by the gospel. That night he went to Prince, full of horror, and longing to beg pardon of Whitefield. Prince encouraged him to visit Y 2 324 whitefield's life and times. the preacher. Whitefield says of him, " by the paleness, pen- siveness, and horror of his countenance, I guessed he was the man of whom I had been apprized, ' Sir, can you forgive me ? ' he cried, in a low but plaintive voice. I smiled, and said, ' Yes, Sir, very readily,' ' Indeed you cannot,' he said, ' when I tell you all.' I then asked him to sit down ; and judging that he had sufficiently felt the lash of the law, I preached the gospel unto him." This, with other remarkable conversions, gave in- creased energy and influence to his preaching in Boston. " My bodily strength," he says, " is recovered, and my soul more than ever in love with a crucified Jesus ! " At this time, the Cape Breton expedition was committed to his friend Colonel Pepperell ; the first and last native of New England created a baronet of Great Britain. For his success at the siege of Louisburgh, which led to this unusual honour, Pepperell was not a little indebted to Whitefield, He gave him a rallying motto for his flag, and preached to his soldiers before they embarked. It is painful to recollect this patronage of war by a minister of peace ! He himself did not easily get over his scruples of conscience. His friend Sherbourne, the commissary of the war, had to tell him, that if he refused men would not enlist. This made him " sleep and pray " on the subject. It was, however. Lady Pepperell who vanquished him, by assuring him, that " God enabled her to give up the general to the ex- pedition, for His glory, and the good of the country." He preached on the surrender of Louisburgh. So also did Mr. Prince. The latter published his sermon. Alas, both have had too many imitators ! Whitefield was now himself again, and began to move south- ward, hunting for souls. On his way to Philadelphia, he had the privilege (to him unspeakable !) of preaching by an inter- preter " to some converted Indians, and of seeing nearly fifty young ones in one school, learning the Assembly's Catechism." This was at one of Brainerd's stations ; and thus doubly inter- esting to him. His reception at Philadelphia was very flattering. The place erected for him on his former visit was flourishing, and its ma- nagers offered him £800 a year, with liberty to travel six months vvhitefield's life and times. 325 a year wherever he chose, if he would become their pastor. This pleased him, although he declined the offer at once. He was more pleased, however, to learn, that after his former visit there were so many under " soul-sickness," that even Gilbert Tennent's feet were blistered with walking from place to place to see them. When he went into Virginia, he was agreeably surprised to find " a fire kindled " there, by a volume of his sermons, which had been brought from Glasgow to Hanover. " It fell into the hands of Samuel Morris," says Whitefield : " he read and found benefit. He then read them to others. They were awakened and convinced. Other labourers were sent for, and many, both whites and negroes, were converted to the Lord." Gillies. Whitefield's version of this event is too brief. The following version is from the lips of Morris himself, in 1751. It was taken down by Mr. Davies of Hanover, his minister. " In 1740, Whitefield preached at Williamsburgh ; but, we being sixty miles distant, he left the colony before we could hear him. I invited my neighbours, 'm. forty-three, to hear a book of his ser- mons. A considerable number met to hear, every sabbath, and on week days. My dwelling-house soon became too small to contain the people ; whereupon we determined to build a meet- ing-house, merely for reading ; for, having never been accus- tomed to social extempore prayer, none of us durst attempt it. Many were convinced of their undone condition, and could not help crying out and weeping bitterly. " When the report was spread abroad, I was invited to several places, at a distance, to read these sermons ; and by this means the concern was propagated. x\bout this time, our absenting ourselves from the established church, contrary, it was said, to the laws of the land, was taken notice of, and we were called upon to say what denomination we belonged to ? We knew but little of any, except quakers, and were at a loss what name to assume. At length, recollecting that liUther was a noted re- former, and that his hooks had been of special service to us, we called ourselves Lutherans ; and thus we continued till Provi- dence sent us that zealous and laborious minister, Mr. Robinson. Afterwards Mr. Roan came, speaking pretty freely about the 326 whitefield's life and times. degeneracy of the clergy. I was tried for letting him preach in my house. Afterwards, I was repeatedly fined in court for ab- senting myself from church. Messrs. Tennent and Blair then visited us. When they were gone, Mr. Whitefield came and preached four or five days, which was the happy means of giving us further encouragement, and of engaging others to the Lord, — especially among church people, who received the gospel more readily from him, than from ministers of the presbyterian deno- mination." Morris's Narrative. In 1747, there were four chapels in and around Hanover, which had sprung from the " mustard seed " of sermons taken in short-hand from White- field's lips at Glasgow. Amongst the converts in this quarter, who saw Whitefield, was deaf and dumb Isaac Oliver. He had been so from his birth. And yet he could represent the crucifixion with such sig- nijicant signs, that any one could understand his meaning. He could also converse in signs at home, about the love of Christ, until he was transported to rapture, and dissolved in tears. Many incredible things are told of Oliver. It is evident, how- ever, that he was, what he was called, " a miraculous monument of Almighty grace." It is enough to say, in proof of this, that Blair, of Fog's Manor, thought him " truly gracious." Robin- son, the first minister of the Hanover Lvtlierans, (as they called themselves,) seems unknown by American biography. And yet his success in Kent county, and Queen Anne's, was astonishing. " Oh, he did much in a little time," says Davies to Bellamy ; " and who would not choose such an expeditious pilgrimage through the world ?" In Maryland also, about Somerset coun- ty, there was " a most glorious display of grace " under his ministry. Many instances of his former usefulness came under White- field's notice in New England. He was much pleased with a negro, who had been his chaise-driver, when he first visited Cambridge. The negro had been allowed to hear him in the college ! The sermon was an invitation to the " weary and heavy laden." It took such a hold upon poor Sambo, that he repeated it in the kitchen, when he came home. Cooper, of Boston^ was so satisfied with his conversion, and Whitefield so WHITEFIELd's life and TIMEiS, 327 pleased with it, that Sambo was soon admitted to the Lord's table. Another " brand plucked from the burning " ought not to be forgotten. A son of Mackintosh, the rebel consigned to per- petual imprisonment by George I. had settled in New England. One of his daughters, a lady of fortmie, heard Whitefield at Prince's meeting in Boston. She was arrested and won. She was soon ripe for heaven. On her death-bed, she cried out for her soul-friend, Mr. Whitefield ; but soon stopped, saying, " Why should I do so ? He is gone about his Master's work, and in a little time we shall meet to part no more." Whitefield had a high opinion of her piety ; and his interest in her was enhanced by a signal escape from some bribed ruffians, who attempted to transport her and her sister to Scotland, that their uncle might seize on an estate of a thousand a year. Hist. Coll. There were at this time not less than twenty ministers, in the neighbourhood of Boston, who did not hesitate to call White- field their spiritual father ; thus tracing their conversion to his ministry. One of them, who went merely to " pick a hole in his coat," (to find fault,) said, " God picked a hole in my heart, and afterwards healed it by the blood of sprinkling." Although Whitefield travelled eleven hundred miles during this itineracy in America, I have found it impossible to trace him much, except by letters, which merely state his health or his happiness : and even his letters, at this time, are both few and brief. They leave, however, a conviction, that he was in- clined, as Gillies says, " to return no more to his native coun- try." New England had evidently won his heart, and for a time almost weaned him from Old England and Scotland too. When he left it for North Carolina, he said, " God only knows what a cross it was to me to leave dear New England so soon. I hope death will not be so bitter to me, as was parting with my friends Glad shall I be to be prayed thither again, before I see my native land ! But future things belong to God. I would just be where He would have me, although in the uttermost parts of the earth. I am now hunting for poor lost sinners in these migospelized wilds." This expression, " hunting for souls," occurs so often in 328 whitefield's life and times. Whitefield's American letters, that I long thouglit it was his own, from his fondness of it. I am now inclined to think that he borrowed it from Brainerd's converted Indians ; some of whom were very zealous to win the souls of other red men. But however this may be, the expression is common still amongst the Indians. An old hunter once said to me, " When my soul was caught by Jesus Christ, I gave up the chase of beasts to hunt for more souls to Jesus. The old traders called me an idle fellow ; but I knew better, and hunted for my new Master." This was Whitefield's favourite work. " I would not but be thus employed," he says, " for millions of worlds ! " He did not, however, forget Bethesda. When he had pleaded its cause over New England, he visited it, and added a Latin school to the orphan-house. His South Carolina friends also enabled him to purchase a plantation in aid of it, " of six hun- dred and forty acres of excellent land, with a good house, barn and out -houses, and sixty acres of ground ready cleared, fenced, and fit for corn, rice, and every thing necessary for provisions," — except slaves ! They gave him only one. Having found Bethesda prosperous, he started for Maryland, where he found " thousands who had never heard of redeeming grace." This roused him anew. " The heat tries my wasting tabernacle," he said, " but, through Christ strengthening me, I intend persisting until I drop." He did persist, although some discouraged him ; and he had soon to say, in answer to their question, — " Have Marylanders also received the grace of God ?" — " Amazing love, Maryland is yielding converts to Jesus. The gospel is moving southward. The harvest is promising. The time of singing of birds is come." His circuit in this quarter extended over three hundred miles, besides some visits in Penn- sylvania, The secret of this mighty eflbrt was this — " thousands and thousands are ready to hear the gospel, and nobody goes out scarcely but myself. Now is the time for stirring. The time iox sitting is coming ; in no meaner place (O amazing love !) than at the right hand of the Lamb of God. Let us see what we can do for precious and immortal souls." It was such con- siderations as these, that inspired Whitefield, and determined him " to die fighting." whitefield's life and times. 329 After this tour he went to Philadelphia, much exhausted. But still he preached, although his convulsions returned, and the " whole frame " of his " nature seemed to be shocked." " I have," he says, " almost always a continual burning fever. With great regret I have omitted preaching one night, (to oblige my friends,) and purpose to do so once more, that they may not charge me with murdering myself. But I hope yet to die in the pulpit, or soon after I come out of it. Next Monday I purpose to set out for New York, to see if I can gain strength. It is hard work to be silent : but I must be tried every way." On his arrival at New York, he said, " I am as willing to hunt for souls as ever. I am not weary of my work." Next day he was at his work again ! " I have preached to a very large auditory, and do not find myself much worse for it." He did so again with success. Then he said, " I shall go to Bos- ton like an arroiv out of a bow, if Jesus strengthen me. I am resolved to preach and work for Him until I can preach and work no more. I have been upon the water three or four days, and now eat like a sailor." He went to Boston, and there con- gregations were larger than ever ; and what was better, " ar- rows of conviction fled and stuck fast, and opposers' mouths were stopped." This good news he sent to Tennent, in order to tempt him to make " another trip " there ; adding, " I am determined to die fighting, though it be on my stumps." He had just heard of the sudden, but happy, death of his aged and excellent friend Dr. Colman. In these journey ings and vicissitudes, Whitefield never forgot the Wesleys. They had sent him word, that they were " more moderate with respect to siidess perfection," than when he left England ; and he returned the compliment by assuring them, that he would " never preach for or against reprobation." Some one had written to him charges against Charles Wesley. He immediately sent word to him of them ; adding, " I do not believe them. Love thinks no evil of a friend. Such are you to me. I love you most dearly." He returned again to Maryland ; and as his New York friends were anxious about his health, he wrote to them from Bohe- mia. In one of these letters, to an aged veteran whom he 330 whitefield's life and times. could not expect to see again, he says, (referring to the Jewish tradition,) " Honoured Sir, may He who kissed aivay the soul of his beloved Moses, appoint a Joshua to succeed you, when He calls you up into the mount to die." His own health was still very fluctuating, even when he reached North Carolina. " I am here," he says, " hunting in the woods, these ungospel- ized wilds, for sinners. It is pleasant work, though my body is weak and crazy. But after a short fermentation in the grave, it will be fashioned like unto Christ's glorious body. The thought of this rejoices my soul, and makes me long to leap my seventy years ! I sometimes think all will go to heaven be- fore me. Pray for me as a dying man ; but oh pray that I may not go oiF as a snuj^. I would fain die blazing — not with human glory, but with the love of Jesus." At this time, a very little riding fatigued him much, and thus his progress was both slow and painful. He preached, however, with great power ; cheered from stage to stage by the hope that the conversion of " North Carolina sinners would be glad news in heaven." In the autumn of 1747, he sailed again for Georgia. From this time, until he went to Bermudas for a change of climate, in 1748, I am unable to trace him. The only thing melancholy in this sketch of Whitefield's his- tory in New England, during his visit, is, the conduct of the president and professors of Harvard College ; and that was worse than it appears from the anecdotes I have told. They published a testimony against him, in which they said, "We look upon Mr. Whitefield as an uncharitable, censorious, and slanderous man." In proof of this, they refer to his monstrous reflections on Archbishop Tillotson ; whom, they say, Dr. In- crease Mather called " great and good." They forgot to say, that Mather, whilst he spoke highly of Tillotson's character and spirit, " constantly warned the students against his books." They testified against his extempore preaching also, " because it is impossible any man can manage an argument instructive to the mind, or cogent to the reasonable powers," thus. He meekly said, " Indeed, gentlemen, I love study, and delight to meditate. Preaching without notes costs as much, if not more, close and solemn thought, as well as confidence in God, than whitefield's life and times. 33i with notes." They had also the audacity to say, " that it is not unlikely, indeed to be suspected, that he is an antinomian ;" yea, " stronger in the antinomian scheme than most of the pro- fessors of that heresy." In answer to this charge he appealed, as he well might, to the tenor and tendency of his preaching, and reminded them that the lapsus UngiKB from which they argued had been retracted publicly before they wrote. His "itinerant way of preaching" comes in, as might be ex- pected, to be testified against in the "strongest" language of the learned doctors. They define an itinerant to be " one that stands ready to preach the gospel to any congregation that may call him." Whitefield says at once, — " / own the charge. Were not Knox, Welch, Wishart, and several of the good old puri- tans, itinerant preachers ? " They also repeated the charge of Clap, of Yale College, that he came into New England " to turn out the generality of their ministers, and to replace them with ministers from England, Ireland, and Scotland." " Such a thought," Whitefield says, " never entered my heart ; neither, as I know of, has my preaching any such tendency." This solemn denial ought to be held decisive on this point. I did not know of it when I wrote the account of his interviews with Jonathan Edwards. Their closing charge against Whitefield was, that "the coming in of hot men, disturbing the churches, was wholly owing to his influence and example." This refers, of course, to the Tennents, — and the heat of their memory is not yet ex- hausted in America ! Gilbert Tennent will be remembered and revered, long after all the cold men of Harvard are forgot- ten. As Whitefield said, " thousands will thank him for coming into New England, through all the ages of eternity." Having said this, he left the cold men in his own way : — " if pulpits should be shut, the fields are open, and I can go without the camp. This I am used to, and glory in. If I have done your society any wrong in my journal, I ask forgiveness. If you have injured me in the testimony you published against me, (as I really think you have,) it is forgiven already, without asking." Letter to Harvard College, Cambridge. Whilst in New England, Whitefield wrote his letter on the 332 whitefield's life and times. bishop of Litchfield's charge to his clergy. This charge was delivered in 1741, hut not puhlished until 1744. It was, there- fore, a deliberate attack on methodism. Indeed, in a subse- quent charge, printed in 1746, now before me, his Lordship re- fers his clergy to it ; assuring them, that " if the false doctrines of the methodists prevail, they must unavoidably create a general disorder in our constitution ; and if so, favour the re- turn of popery itself." The bishop. Dr. Smalbroke, was a bet- ter scholar than this projohecy indicates. He had grappled with Whiston, on Arianism ; with Bentley, on the authority of the primitive Complutensian ; and with Woolston, on miracles. It was not, however, a very formidable matter to grapple with him, when the subject was the grace of the Holy Spirit. Smalbroke certainly believed that there is a Holy Ghost ; but no one could well believe less about His work and witness. It will hardly be credited now, but it is only too true, that a bishop preached, and his clergy called for, the publication of the following sentiments : — " The indwelling and inward wit- nessing of the Spirit, are all extraordinary gifts, belonging only to apostolical and primitive times ; and consequently all preten- sions to such favours in these last days, are vain and enthu- siastical." The Spirit spoken of as helping our infirmities in prayer, " was the Spirit acting in the inspired person, who had the gift of prayer, and who in that capacity prayed for the whole assembly. It is he (not the Holy Spirit) that maketh inter- cession with God for private christians " with groanings which cannot be uttered ! The Searcher of hearts " knowing the mind of the Spirit," means that " God knows the inientions of the inspired " prayer-leader ! Preaching in " the demonstration of the Spirit," means no more than proving " Jesus to be the Messiah, by proofs out of the Old Testament," and by miracles ! No wonder Whitefield could not forget these perversions of truth and soberness in America. They haunted him on his voyages, and whilst he was hunting in the woods. He sent over an answer to the charge, addressed to the clergy who call- ed for its publication ; not to the bishop, " because I hear," he says, " that he is very aged." I wish I could say, that either the episcopal bench, or the whitefield's life and times. 333 dissenting board, had answered it also. They knew better than Whitefield, that Smalbroke, although an old man, was a sturdy polemic, and in no danger of death or illness from hard blows. But the bench slumbered. They could worry Whitefield or Wesley for an extravagant word ; but they would not even bark when a bishop sapped the very vitals of Christianity. Pope cer- tainly knew his men when he said, " A saint in crape, is twice a saint in lawn." A man in lawn then, might say almost any thing with impunity, if it was only well said, or argued with a show of learning. Happily, it is not so now. Such a theologian as Smalbroke would not be left to the lash of methodists or dissenters ; he would be chastised by some of his own clergy, or rebuked by some of the bench. It is needless to analyze or characterize Whitefield's answer to the bishop. It is enough to say, that it is full of the great doctrines of the Reformation. Even where it pleads for too much of the direct witness of the Spirit, it is more than excusable ; for had not Whitefield and the Wesleys said both strong and startling things on this subject, when both the work and witness of the Spirit were denied and denounced from " high places," those in low places would not have listened, or not brought " a pressure from without" upon the hierarchy. CHAPTER XV. WHITEFIELD IN BERMUDAS. The isles of Bermuda are more associated in the public mind with the memory of good Bishop Berkeley, and the poetry of Waller, than with Whitefield. They were probably indebted to Berkeley's example for Whitefield's visit. In 1721, the " Vanessa" of Swift bequeathed her fortune to Berkeley. This was soon followed by his deserved elevation to the deanery of Derry — worth eleven hundred pounds per an- num. Never was preferment better bestowed. He had long cherished the design of evangelizing the American Indians, by means of a college in the Bermudas. Now, he issued proposals for it in London ; offering to resign his preferment, and to de- vote his life to the instruction of young Americans, and stipu- lating for only a hundred a year to himself. This noble disin- terestedness won patronage at first. Government gave him a grant of £10,000; and he sailed to carry his plans into effect. He was not sustained by the ministry, however, in the way he expected. He, therefore, made presents of his library to the clergy of Rhode Island, and to Yale College. To the latter, although not at all episcopalian, he gave a thousand volumes, besides his estate at Newport, where he wrote his " Minute Philosopher." Berkeley then returned to Ireland, and in 1773 was made bishop of Cloyne. It is almost impossible, in the presence of these facts, to remember either his Platonism or his idealism. He was a great and a good man. Atterbury might well say of him, " So much understanding, so much knowledge, so much innocence, and such humility, — I did not think had been the portion of any but angels, till I saw this gentleman." WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 335 These facts, as well as the climate, drew Whitefield to Ber- mudas, where he met with the kindest reception, and for about a month preached generally twice a day, traversing the island from one end to the other. His activity, treatment, and success, will best appear from the following extracts from his manuscript journal of that period. " The simplicity and plainness of the people, together with the pleasant situation of the island, much delighted me. The Rev. Mr. Holiday, minister of Spanish Point, received me in a most affectionate christian manner ; and begged I would make his house my home. In the evening I expounded at the house of Mr. Savage, at Port Royal, which was very commodious ; and which also he would have me make my home. I went with Mr. Savage, in a boat lent us by Captain , to the town of St. George, in order to pay our respects to the governor. All along we had a most pleasant prospect of the other part of the island, but a more pleasant one I never saw. One Mrs. Smith, of St. George's, for whom I had a letter of recommendation from my dear old friend, Mr. Smith of Charlestown, received me into her house. About noon, with one of the council, and Mr. Savage, I waited upon the governor. He received us cour- teously, and invited us to dine with him and the council at a tavern. We accepted the invitation, and all behaved with great civility and respect. After the governor rose from table, he desired, if I stayed in town on the Sunday, that I would dine with him at his own house. " Sunday, March 20. Read prayers and preached twice this day, to what were esteemed here large auditories, — in the morn- ing at Spanish Point church, and in the evening at Brackish Pond church, about two miles distant from each other. In the afternoon I spoke with greater freedom than in the morning ; and I trust not altogether in vain. All were attentive — some wept. I dined with Colonel Butterfield, one of the council ; and received several invitations to other gentlemen's houses. May God bless and reward them, and incline them to open their hearts to re- ceive the Lord Jesus ! Amen and Amen ! " Wednesday, March 23. Dined with Captain Gibbs, and went from thence and expounded at the house of Captain 336 whitefield's life and times, F le, at Hunbay, about two miles distant. The company was here also large, attentive, and affected. Our Lord gave me utterance. I expounded on the first part of the 8th chapter of Jeremiah. After lecture, Mr. Riddle, a counsellor, invited me to his house ; as did Mr. Paul, an aged presbyterian minister, to his pulpit ; which I complied with, upon condition the report was true, that the governor had served the ministers with an injunc- tion that I should not preach in the churches. " Friday, March 25. Was prevented preaching yesterday by the rain, which continued from morning till night ; but this af- ternoon, God gave me another opportunity of declaring his eter- nal truths to a large company at the house of one Mr. B s, who last night sent me a letter of invitation. " Sunday, March 27. Glory be to God ! I hope this has been a profitable sabbath to many souls ; it has been a pleasant one to mine. Both morning and afternoon I preached to a large auditory, for Bermudas, in Mr. Paul's meeting-house, which I suppose contains about four hundred. Abundance of negroes, and many others, were in the vestry, porch, and about the house. The word seemed to be clothed with a convicting power, and to make its way into the hearts of the hearers. Between sermons, I was entertained very civilly in a neighbouring house. Judge Bascom, and three more of the council, came thither, and each gave me an invitation to his house. How does the Lord make way for a poor stranger in a strange land ! — After the second sermon, I dined with Mr. Paul ; and in the evening ex- pounded to a very large company at Counsellor Riddle's, My body was somewhat weak ; but the Lord carried me through, and caused me to go to rest rejoicing. — May I thus go to my grave, when my ceaseless, uninterrupted rest shall begin ! " Monday, March 28. Dined this day at Mrs. Dorrel's, mother-in-law to my dear friend the Rev. Mr. Smith ; and afterwards preached to more than a large house full of people, on Matthew ix. 12. Towards the conclusion of the sermon, the hearers began to be more affected than I have yet seen them. Surely the Lord Jesus will give me some seals in this island ! Grant this, O Redeemer, for thy infinite mercy sake ! " Thursday, March 31. Dined on Tuesday, at Colonel Cor- whitefield's life and times. 337 busiers, and on Wednesday, at Colonel Gilbert's, both of the council j and found, by what I could hear, that some good had been done, and many prejudices removed. Who shall hinder, if God will work ? Went to an island this afternoon, called Ireland, upon which live a few families ; and to my surprise, found a great many gentlemen, and other people, with my friend Mr, Holiday, who came from different quarters to hear me. Before I began preaching, I went round to see a most re- markable cave, which very much displayed the exquisite work- manship of Him, who in his strength setteth fast the mountains, and is girded about with power. — Whilst I was in the cave, quite unexpectedly I turned and saw Counsellor Riddle, who, with his son, came to hear me ; and whilst we were in the boat, told me that he had been with the governor, who declared he had no personal prejudices against me — and wondered I did not come to town, and preach there, for it was the desire of the people ; and that any house in the town, the court-house not excepted, should be at my service. Thanks be to God for so much favour ! If his cause requires it, I shall have more. He knows my heart ; I value the favour of man no further than as it makes room for the gospel, and gives me a larger scope to promote the glory of God. There being no capacious house upon the island, I preached for the first time here in the open air. All heard very attentive ; and it was very pleasant after sermon to see so many boats full of people returning from the worship of God. I talked seriously to some in our own boat, and sung a psalm, in which they readily joined. " Sunday, April 3. Preached twice this day at Mr. Paul's meeting-house, as on the sabbath, but with greater freedom and power, especially in the morning ; and I think to as great, if not greater, auditories. Dined with Colonel Harvy, another of the council — visited a sick woman, where many came to hear — and expounded afterwards to a great company, at Cap- tain John Dorrel's, Mrs. Dorrel's son, who, with his wife, cour- teously entertained me, and desired me to make his house my home. — So true is that promise of our Lord's, ' that whosoever leaves father and mother, house or lands, shall have in this life a hundredfold, with persecution, and in the world to come, life z 338 whitefield's life and times, everlasting.' Lord, I have experienced the one : in thy good time grant that I may experience the other also ! " Wednesday, April 6. Preached yesterday at the house of Mr. Anthony Smith, of Baylis Bay, with a considerable degree of warmth ; and rode afterwards to St. George's, the only town on the island. The gentlemen of the town had sent me an in- vitation by Judge Bascom ; and he, with several others, came to visit me at my lodgings, and informed me that the governor desired to see me. About ten I waited upon his Excellency, who received me with great civility, and told me he had no ob- jection against my person, or my principles, having never yet heard me ; and he knew nothing in respect to my conduct in moral life, that might prejudice him against me ; but his in- structions were, to let none preach in the island, unless he had a written license to preach some where in America, or the West Indies ; at the same time he acknowledged that it was but a matter of mere form. I informed his Excellency that I had been regularly inducted to the parish of Savannah ; that I was ordained priest by letters dimissory from my lord of London, and under no church censure from his Lordship ; and would always read the church prayers, if the clergy would give me the use of their churches. — I added further, that a minister's pulpit was looked upon as his freehold, and that I knew one clergy- man who had denied his own diocesan the use of his pulpit. But I told his Excellency, I was satisfied with the liberty he allowed me, and would not act contrary to his injunction. I then begged leave to be dismissed, because I was obliged to preach at eleven o'clock. His Excellency said he intended to do himself the pleasure to hear me. At eleven the church bell rung. The church Bible, prayer book, and cushion, were sent to the town-house. The governor, several of the council, the minister of the parish, and assembly-men, with a great number of the town's people, assembled in great order. I was very sick, through a cold I caught last night ; but read the church prayers. The first lesson was the 15th chapter of the 1st book of Samuel. I preached on those words, " Righteousness ex- alteth a nation." Being weak and faint, and afflicted much with the head-ache, I did not do that justice to my subject I whitefield's life and times. 339 sometimes am enabled to do ; but the Lord so helped me, that, as I found afterwards, the governor and the other gentlemen expressed their approbation, and acknowledged they did not ex- pect to be so well entertained. Not unto me, Lord ! not unto me, but unto thy free grace be all the glory ! " After sermon. Dr. F bs, and Mr. P 1, the collector, came to me, and desired me to favour them and the gentlemen of the town with my company to dinner. I accepted the invi- tation. The governor, and the president, and Judge Bascom were there. All wondered at my speaking so freely and fluently, without notes. The governor asked, whether I used minutes ? I answered. No. He said it was a great gift. At table, his Ex- cellency introduced something of religion, by asking me the m.eaning of the word hades ? Several other things were started about free will, Adam's fall, predestination, &c. to all which God enabled me to answer so pertinently, and taught me to mix the utile and dulce so together, that all at table seemed highly pleased, shook me by the hand, and invited me to their respective houses. The governor, in particular, asked me to dine with him on the morrow ; and Dr. F bs, one of his particular intimates, invited me to drink tea in the afternoon. I thanked all, returned proper respects, and went to my lodgings with some degree of thankfulness for the assistance vouchsafed me, and abased before God at the consideration of my unspeak- able unworthiness. In the afternoon, about five o'clock, I ex- pounded the parable of the prodigal son to many people at a private house ; and in the evening had liberty to speak freely and closely to those that supped with me. Oh that this may be the beginning of good gospel times to the inhabitants of this town ! Lord, teach me to deal prudently with them, and cause them to melt under thy word ! " Friday, April 8. Preached yesterday with great clearness and freedom, to about fourscore people, at a house on David's Island, over against St. George's Town — went and lay at Mr. Holiday's, who came in a boat to fetch me — and this day I heard him preach and read prayers ; after which I took the sa- crament from him. Honest man ! he would have made me ad- minister and officiate ; but I chose not to do it, lest I should 340 wiutefield's life and times. bring him into trouble after my departure. However, in the afternoon, I preached at Mr. Todd's, in the same parish, to a very large company indeed. The Lord was with me. My heart was warm — and what went from the heart, I trust went to the heart; for many were affected. Oh that they may be converted also ! Then will it be a good Friday, indeed, to their souls. " Sunday, April 10. Dined and conversed yesterday very agreeably with Judge Bascom, who seems to have the greatest insight into the difference between Arminian and Calvinistical schemes, of any one I have met with upon the island. — In the afternoon, I visited a paralytic ; and this day preached twice again at Mr. Paul's meeting-house. The congregations were rather larger than ever, and the power of God seemed to be more amongst them. I think I see a visible alteration for the better every Lord's day. Blessed be God ! — In the evening I expounded at Mr. Joseph Dorrell's, where I dined, to a very large company ; then went to his kinsman's, my usual lodging on Saturday and Sunday evenings ; who with his wife and other friends, seemed kinder and kinder daily. Good measure, press- ed down, and running over, may the Lord, both as to spirituals and temporals, return into all their bosoms ! "Saturday, April 16. Preached since Lord's day at five different houses, to concerned and affected congregations, at different parts of the island ; but was more indisposed one night after going to bed, than I had been for some time. On two of the days of this week, I dined with the president, and Captain Spafford, one of the council, both of whom entertained me with the utmost civility. " Sunday, April 17. Still God magnifies his power and goodness more and more. This morning we had a pleasing sight at Mr. Paul's meeting-house. I began to preach, and the peo- ple to hear and be affected as in days of old at home. Indeed, the prospect is encouraging. Praise the Lord, O my soul ! — After preaching twice to a large congregation in the meeting- house, I, at the desire of the parents, preached in the evening a sermon at the funeral of a little boy, about five years of age. A great number of people attended, and the Lord enabled me so to speak, as to affect many of the hearers. Blessed be the whitefield's life and times. 341 Lord for this day's work ! Not unto me, O Lord ! not unto me, but unto thy free grace be all the glory ! " Sunday, April 24. The last week being rainy, I preached only five times in private houses ; and this day but once in the meeting-house ; but I hope neither times without effect. This evening expounded at Counsellor Riddle's, who, with the other gentlemen, treat me with greater respect every day. Colonel Gilbert, one of the council, has lent me his horse, during my stay ; and Mr. Dorrell, this morning, informed me of a design the gentlemen had, to raise a contribution to help me to dis- charge my arrears, and support my orphan family. Thanks be given to thy name, O God ! Thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that I want to owe no man any thing, but love ; and provide for Bethesda, after my decease. Thou hast promised thou wilt fulfil the desire of them that fear thee. I believe. Lord, help my unbelief, that thou wilt fulfil this desire of my soul. Even so. Amen. " Saturday, April 30. Preached since Lord's day two funeral sermons, and at five different houses in different parts of the island, to still larger and larger auditories, and perceived the people to be affected more and more. Twice or thrice I preach- ed without doors. Riding in the sun, and preaching very ear- nestly, a little fatigued one ; so that this evening I was obliged to lie down for some time. Faint, yet pursuing, must be my motto still. "Sunday, May 1. This morning, was a little sick; but I trust God gave us a happy beginning of the new month. I preached twice with power, especially in the morning, to a very great congregation in the meeting-house ; and in the evening', having given previous notice, I preached about four miles dis- tant, in the fields, to a large company of negroes, and a number of white people who came to hear what I had to say to them. I believe, in all, near fifteen hundred people. As the sermon was intended for the negroes, I gave the auditory warning, that my discourse would be chiefly directed to them, and that I should endeavour to imitate the example of Elijah, who, when he was about to raise the child, contracted himself to its length. The negroes seemed very sensible and attentive. When I 342 avhitefield's life and times. asked, if they all did not desire to go to heaven ? one of them, with a very audible voice, said, 'Yes, sir.' This caused a little smiling ; but, in general, every thing was carried on with great decency ; and I believe the Lord enabled me so to discourse, as to touch the negroes, and yet not to give them the least um- brage to slight or behave imperiously to their masters. If ever a minister, in preaching, need the wisdom of the serpent to be joined with the harmlessness of the dove, it must be when dis- coursing to negroes. Vouchsafe me this favour, O God, for thy dear Son's sake ! " Monday, May 2. Upon inquiry, I found that some of the negroes did not like my preaching, because I told them of their cursing, swearing, thieving, and lying. One or two of the worst of them, as I was informed, went away. Some said, they would not go any more. They liked Mr. M r better, for he never told them of these things ; and I said, their hearts were as black as their faces. They expected, they said, to hear me speak against their masters. Blessed be God, that I was directed not to say any thing, this first time, to the masters at all, though my text led me to it. It might have been of bad consequences, to tell them their duty, or charge them too roundly with the neglect of it, before their slaves. They would mind all I said to their masters, and, perhaps, nothing that I said to them. Every thing is beautiful in its season. Lord, teach me always that due season, wherever I am called, to give either black or white a portion of thy word ! However, others of the poor creatures, I hear, were very thankful, and came home to their masters' houses, saying, that they would strive to sin no more. Poor hearts ! These different accounts affected me; and upon the whole, I could not help rejoicing, to find that their consciences were so far awake. " Saturday, May 7. In my conversation these two days, with some of my friends, I was diverted much, in hearing several things that passed among the poor negroes, since my preaching to them last Sunday. One of the women, it seems, said, ' that if the book I preached out of was the best book that was ever bought at London, she was sure it had never all that in it which I spoke to the negroes.' The old man, who spoke out whitefield's life and times. 343 loud last Sunday, and said, ' yes,' when I asked them whether all the negroes would not go to heaven ? heing questioned by somebody, why he spoke out so ? answered, ' That the gentle- man put the question once or twice to them, and the other fools had not the manners to make me any answer ; till, at last, I seemed to point at him, and he was ashamed that nobody should answer me, and therefore he did.' Another, wondering why. I said negroes had black hearts ; was answered by his black brother thus ; ' Ah, thou fool ! dost thou not understand it ? He means black with sin.' Two more girls were overheard by their mistress talking about religion : and they said, ' They knew, if they did not repent, they must be damned.' From all which I infer, that these Bermudas negroes are more knowing than I supposed ; that their consciences are awake, and conse- quently prepared, in a good measure, for hearing the gospel preached unto them. " Sunday, May 8. This also, I trust, has been a good sab- bath. In the morning I was helped to preach powerfully to a melting, and rather a larger congregation than ever, in Mr. Paul's meeting-house ; and in the evening, to almost as large a congregation of black and white as last Sunday in the fields, near my hearty friend, Mr. Holiday's house. To see so many black faces was affecting. They heard very attentively, and some of them now began to weep. May God grant them a godly sorrow, that worketh repentance not to be repented of ! " Friday, May 13. This afternoon preached over the corpse of Mr. Paul's eldest son, about twenty-four years of age ; and by all I could hear, and judge of by conversing with him, he did indeed die in the Lord. I visited him twice last Lord's day, and was quite satisfied with what he said, though he had not much of the sensible presence of God. I find he was a preacher upon his death-bed : for he exhorted all his companions to love Christ in sincerity ; and blessed his brother and sister, and, I think, his father and mother, just before his departure. A great many people attended the funeral, I preached on Luke viii. 13, ' And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her. Weep not.' Many were affected in the application of my discourse ; and, I trust, some will be in- 344 whitefield's life and times. ducecl, by this young man's good example, to remember their Redeemer in the days of their youth. Grant it, O Lord, for thy dear Son's sake. " Sunday, May 15. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, praise his holy name ! This morning I preached my farewell sermon at Mr, Paul's meeting-house — it was quite full ; and, as the president said, above one hundred and fifty whites, besides blacks, were round the house. Attention sat on every face ; and when I came to take my leave, oh ! what a sweet, unaffected weeping was there to be seen every where ! I believe there were few dry eyes. The negroes, likewise, without doors, I heard weep plentifully. My own heart was affected ; and though I have parted with friends so often, yet I find every fresh parting almost unmans me, and very much affects my heart. Surely, a great work is begim in some souls at Bermudas. Carry it on, O Lord ! and if it be thy will, send me to this dear people again. Even so. Lord Jesus. Amen ! " After sermon, I dined with three of the council, and other gentlemen and ladies, at Captain Bascom's ; and from thence we went to a funeral, at which Mr. M r preached ; and after that, I expounded on our Lord's transfiguration, at the house of one Mrs. Harvey, sister to dear Mr. Smith, of Charlestown. The house was exceeding full, and it was supposed above three hundred stood in the yard. The Lord enabled me to lift up my voice like a trumpet. Many wept. Mr, M r re- turned from the funeral with me, and attended the lecture ; as did the three councillors, with whom I conversed freely. May God reward them, and all the dear people of the island, for those many favours conferred on me, who am the chief of sinners, and less than the least of all saints ! " Sunday, May 22. Blessed be God ! the little leaven thrown into the three measures of meal, begins to ferment, and work almost every day for the week past. I have conversed with souls loaded with a sense of their sins ; and, as far as I can judge, really pricked to the heart. I preached only three times, but to almost three times larger auditories than usual. Indeed the fields are white ready unto harvest. God has been pleased to bless private visits. Go where I will, upon the least notice, whitefield's life and times. 345 houses are crowded, and the poor souls that follow, are soon drenched in tears. This day I took, as it were, another fare- well. As the ship did not sail, I preached at Somerset in the morning to a large congregation in the fields ; and expounded in the evening at Mr. Harvey's house, round which stood many hundreds of people. But in the morning and evening, how did the poor souls weep ! Abundance of prayers and blessings were put up for my safe passage to England, and speedy return to Bermudas again. May they enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth ! With all humility and thankfulness of heart, will I here, O Lord, set up my Ehenezer ; for hitherto surely thou hast helped me ! Thanks be to the Lord for sending me hither. I have been received in a manner I dared not expect ; and have met with little, very little opposition, indeed. The inhabitants seem to be plain and open-hearted. They have loaded me with provisions for my sea-store ; and in the several parishes, by a private voluntary contribution, have raised me upwards of one HUNDRED POUNDS Sterling. This will pay a little of Bethesda's debt, and enable me to make such a remittance to my dear yoke-fellow, as may keep her from being embarrassed, or too much beholden, in my absence. Blessed be God, for bringing me out of my embarrassment by degrees ! May the Lord reward all my benefactors a thousandfold ! I hear that what was given, was given exceedingly heartily ; and people only lamented that they could do no more." Transmitting to Georgia the contributions he had received, and fearing a relapse if he had returned to America in the heat of the summer ; and also being much pressed to return to Eng- land, Mr. Whitefield took his passage in a brig, and arrived safe in twenty-eight days at Deal ; and the next evening, July 6, he came to London, having been absent near four years. CHAPTER XVI. WHITEFIELD RANGING. In 1748, after an absence of four years, Whitefield returned to his native land ; not exactly from choice, but because he was afi-aid to risk his restored health in America again, during the heat of July. He embarked at Bermudas in June, on board the Betsey; and lived, as he expresses it, " like people that came from the continent, not from an island — so bountiful were his friends." His appetite was, however, somewhat spoiled one day. The Betsey was chased by a large French vessel, and shot at thrice. " We gave up all for lost ! We were almost defenceless. I was dressing myself to receive our visitors. In the mean time our captain cried, ' The danger is over.' The Frenchman turned about and left us. In the Channel we expect such alarms daily." During the voyage he abridged, and endeavoured to gospelize. Law's " Serious Call ;" and finished a revisal of his own jour- nals : but he was not allowed to preach on board. This, he says, " may spare my lungs, but it grieves my heart." It seems he could not write with much composure. The reason he assigns for this is, " We have four gentleivomen on board ; so you may guess how it is ! " His own private review of his sayings, doings, and writings, up to this time, I have recorded in " The Specimens of White- field," at the close of this volume. It is equally humble and honest ; and it led to many impravements in his conduct and spirit towards the opponents of truth and godliness. The prospect of home led him naturally to anticipate the pleasure of seeing his aged and beloved mother. He had been whitefield's life and times. 347 so long absent, and she was so poor, that he did not know, when he wrote, where she resided. He added to the prayer for her, " Oh that I may see you laden with holiness, and bearing fruit in old age," the request, " Let me know whether you stand in need of any thing." There was a contemporary clergyman of notoriety, Sterne, who could weep over a dead ass, and a caged starling, who neither prayed nor felt for his aged mother, al- though she was in distress : but Sterne was a wit, not a methodist ! On his arrival in London, Whitefield was welcomed by thou- sands, with a joy which well nigh overcame them and himself too. One cause of this joy was, that a large church was open to him on his return. It was St. Bartholomew's, where he had a thousand communicants on the first sabbath, besides "multitudes flocking to hear." How different from the reception he met with on his former return from America. The fact is, both he and the Wesleys were now wiser men. He was not, however, without his cares on this occasion. His outward affairs were " far behindhand." Antinomianism had "made sad havoc " in the religious societies, during his absence. " I came," he says, " at a critical ]Vir\ciwce" One of the hyper par- ty threatened to rival him in Moorfields — a sphere which these zealots have seldom coveted. Whitefield sent him word, — " The fields are no doubt as free to you as to another. God send you a clear head and a clean heart. I intend preaching there on Sunday evening." He did ; and found "Moorfields as white to harvest as ever." In other respects, also, he had soon the satis- faction of seeing " things take a good turn " in London. At this time he renewed his intimacy with Hervey, who was now popular as a writer ; and that not undeservedly. It has been fashionable, of late, to denounce his Jlorid style : and, so far as this prevents Hervey from becoming a model to young preachers or imaginative writers, it is a good fashion. It is, however, bad, so far as it prevents the young from reading his works, or from yielding to their inspiration. They cannot be read without interest by the young. Both the " Meditations" and " Theron and Aspasio " have an irresistible charm to them. They lay hold upon the heart at once, and are never forgotten. 348 whitefield's life and times. The secret of this fascination is, their sympathy with visible nature, as young eyes see it, and young hearts enjoy it. Hervey rejlects the heavens and the earth to them, in the broad and brilliant forms which haunt their own dreams. Who does not remember this ? True ; we cease to read Hervey, and learn to find fault with his style : but, which of us would have relished or read, in early life, the chaster works on piety, which now charm us ? Even our taste for the simple, is the reaction of the gorgeous. I owe this passing tribute to Hervey. My love of nature was made religious by him. And, had I never tried to imitate him, I should never have formed a puritanical style for myself. The second reformation in this country owes much to Hervey. He was the Melancthon of it, by his writings. They suited, as Whitefield says of them, " the taste of the polite world." They refined the taste of the methodists also. The former read them, because they were flowery ; the latter, because they were savoury. The one looked at grace, through their medium, with less pre- judice; the other at nature, with more delight than formerly. Whitefield saw this twofold influence of Hervey's works, and wisely said nothing against their style, when they were submitted to his revision. Amongst all Whitefield's converts, no one has been more useful than Hervey, as a writer. That he was one of them is certain, although seldom remembered. In a letter to White- field, he says, " Your journals and sermons, and especially that sweet sermon, on ' What think ye of Christ?' were a mean of bringing me to the knowledge of the truth." Brown s Memoirs of Hervey. This will account for the deference he paid to his spi- ritual father, and for the eulogium he pronounced on him at Dod- dridge's : " I never beheld," he said, " so fair a copy of our Lord ; such a living image of the Saviour; such exalted delight in God; such unbounded benevolence to man ; such steady faith in the divine promises ; such fervent zeal for the divine glory ; and all this, without the least moroseness of humour, or extravagances of behaviour ; but sweetened with the most engaging cheerful- ness of temper, and regulated by all the sobriety of reason and wisdom of Scripture : insomuch, that I cannot forbear applying whitefield's life and times. 349 the wise man's encomium on an illustrious woman, to this emi- nent minister of the everlasting gospel — ' Many sons have done virtuously, hut thou excellest them all,' " It was not in return for this compliment, hut hefore it, that Whitefield introduced Hervey's works into America, and re- joiced in their popularity. " The author," he said, " is my old friend ; a most heavenly-minded creature ; one of the first me- thodists, who is contented with a small cure, and gives all he has to the poor. We correspond with, though we cannot see, each other." Gillies says, that Whitefield left a blank in his manuscripts thus. — " Here a character of Hervey ;" and adds, " What a pity he did not write it down ! " Doddridge also was not ashamed to preface a work of Hervey's, although Warburton called it a weak rhapsody, and said it would degrade the Doctor. At this time his acquaintance with the Countess of Hunting- don commenced. She had engaged Howel Harris to brirg him to Chelsea, " as soon as he came ashore." He went and preached twice in her drawing-room, in a manner that determined her to invite some of the nobility to hear him. As she had, from this time, much influence upon his future movements, the following masterly sketch of her history and character will tell best here. It is by a descendant of Dod- dridge, who hates Calvinism. " The Right Honourable Selina Countess Dowager of Hunt- ingdon, second daughter, and one of the coheiresses of Wash- ington, second Earl of Ferrars, was born August 13th, 1707, and married in the year 1 728, to Theophilus Earl of Huntingdon, by whom she had issue four sons and three daughters : of these, only one, the Countess of Moira, survived their mother, whose death occurred in 1791, at the age of eighty-four, and after a widowhood of forty-five years. " Upon the decease of her mother, the Countess of Moira received an accession to her income of fifteen hundred pounds per annum, and her son. Lord Rawden, a bequest of two thou- sand two hundred pounds. Lady Huntingdon also left an an- nuity of a hundred a year to her friend Lady Ann Erskine, and the sum of four thousand pounds to be disposed of in charitable 350 whitefield's life and times. gifts, at the direction of the Earl of Dartmouth, Sir Richard Hill, and her chaplain, Mr. Haws. The residue of her fortune was bequeathed for the support of sixty-four chapels, which she had contributed to establish throughout the kingdom. " Few characters have been more erroneously estimated by the world than that of Lady Huntingdon. She was, in fact, neither the gloomy fanatic, the weak visionary, nor the abstracted devotee, which diiferent parties have delighted to paint her. " The circumstance of her having forbade the publication of her papers, and her retired mode of life, for even her charities v/ere principally distributed through the medium of her chap- lains, were the causes which baffled the curiosity of those v/ho felt desirous of discovering the motives which could tempt a woman to resign the allurements of station, and to devote, in addition to what is mentioned in her will, at least a hundred thousand pounds, given during her life, for the extension of pe- culiar religious opinions, without any view towards that personal distinction which has been too often a leading inducement with the founders of new sects. " In the absence of circumstantial detail, all that remains is to collect the few personal traits which are here and there acci- dentally mentioned, and to unite them with facts of public noto- riety. Having thus combined these scattered rays, their con- densed light at once reveals the actual character of this remark- able woman ; and we perceive her peculiarities to have arisen from the blight of domestic sorrow, acting upon a mind swayed to a great extent by the imagination, and, therefore, highly susceptible of religious impressions. " In the spring day of her life, there was little to distinguish Lady Huntingdon from the many charming and intelligent young women who ever grace the courtly circle in which she moved. She was naturally gay, and the quickness of her disposition ren- dered her sprightly and amusing ; but it does not appear that her gaiety tended towards dissipation, or that her conversational talents amounted to wit. How far her religious education had been attended to is not indicated, but there is no reason to sur- mise that it was defective ; and had not her maternal and con- jugal affections suffered from the shock of family bereavements. vvhitefield's life and times. 351 her character would probably have remained not less worthy, but far less remarkable, than it is at present. " The loss of children, and the death of her lord, which occurred before the charms of existence had with her been subdued by the lapse of time, gave a blow to the elasticity of her mind from which it never recovered. When the first paroxysm of grief had subsided, her exhausted feelings naturally sought a refuge in devotion ; and it is only to be regretted that under the melan- choly impressions of the period, her mind the more deeply im- bibed the Calvinistic tenets." (Not exactly !J " An affecting incident shows that at this time she still re- tained the fond recollections of human regard in all their wonted intensity. Lady Huntingdon had a fine bust of herself placed upon the tomb of her deceased husband ; and it is but justice to observe, that the widowed bosom in which his memory was en- shrined ever remained as cold to earthly passion, as the insen- sible marble, whose gentle smile, amid the symbols of death, seemed eloquent with immortality. " For some years the religious views of Lady Huntingdon were those of the church of England; she was pious and bene- volent in an eminent degree, as her letters in this work evince, but her sentiments were unmarked by peculiarity. As might, however, have been expected, the spirit-stirring eloquence of Whitefield caught her attention, and she became one of his most determined proselytes ; and, doubtless, felt delighted to obtain so important a witness to a reality of her election. Be this as it may, under his influence, although she never renounced the doc- trines of episcopacy, yet she embraced sectarian views incompa- tible with its practice and well-being ; she endowed chapels, and sanctioned an independent /brm of worship. " Of the results to which her conduct, in such respects, was likely to lead, she was doubtless unconscious, and, in fact, acted from the impressions produced upon her mind by the interested parties around her. She was, indeed, so much the child of emotion, that she is related to have described herself ' as like a ship before the wind, carried on by an impulse she could not resist or describe.' " The influence of Whitefield and his friends over the mind 352 whitefield's life and times. of Lady Huntingdon, was most apparent from the year 1748, when he became her chaplain. That influence was, however, so guardedly employed, that the natural vigilance of her charac- ter was fully exercised in plans for the propagation of the highly Calvinistic ideas she had espoused. It was not until the year 1768, that she opened her 'college' near Talgarth, in South Wales, ' for the education of serious and godly young men, and such as she believed had a divine call.'' Besides this academy, the whole expense of which she defrayed, she was deeply inter- ested in the missionary schemes then in motion ; and that she might the better uphold the cause, reduced her style of living far below what her station in society demanded; and even exhausted her income to such an extent, that she was not able to afford charitable relief in some cases of the utmost necessity, that were brought under her notice. " Her death occurred on the 17th of June, 1791, and was marked with the serenity of the christian, and the humble con- fidence of a saint. As the awful moment was approaching, she said, ' My work is done ; and I have nothing to do but to go to my Father.' (This was her Calvinism !) " The romantic turn of her feelings was as strongly marked during her last illness, as in any former period of her life. She desired that her remains might be dressed in the suit of white silk which she wore at the opening of the chapel in Goodman's Fields ; and in speaking of death, said, ' It was like putting off her cloak.' When the blood-vessel burst, which was the com- mencement of her illness, on being asked how she did, by Lady Ann Erskine, she observed, ' I am well — all is well — well for ever ! I see, wherever I turn my eyes, whether I live or die, nothing but victory.' And a day or so before her decease, she remarked, ' The Lord has been present with my spirit this morning in a remarkable manner : what He means to convey to my mind, I know not ; it may be my approaching departure. My soul is filled with glory ; I am in the element of heaven.' " Humphries. Such was Lady Huntingdon. She soon brought around Whitefield some of the stars of the court. Chesterfield and a whole circle of them attended, and having heard once, desired they might hear him again. " I, therefore, preached again," he whitefield's life and times. 353 says, " in the evening, and went home, never more surprised at any thing in my life. All behaved quite well, and were in some degree affected. The Earl of Chesterfield thanked me, and said, ' Sir, I shall not tell you what I shall tell others, how I approve of you ;' or words to this purpose. At last Lord Bolingbroke came to hear; sat like an archbisho^y, and was pleased to say, I had done great justice to the divine attributes in my dis- course. (Hume also was present.) Soon afterwards, her Lady- ship removed to town, where I generally preached twice a week, to very brilliant auditories. Blessed be God, not without effec- tual success on some." GilU-es. Bolingbroke invited White- field to visit him ; which he did, and found him both candid and frank. And the impression made upon him, may be judged by his saying to the Countess, " You may command my pen when you will. It shall be drawn in your service. For, admit- ting the Bible to be true, I shall have little apprehension of maintaining the doctrines of predestination and grace, against all your revilers." All the nobility also accepted, with pleasure and surprise, copies of Whitefield's sermons. On recording this, he says, " Thus the world turns round ! In all time of wealth, good Lord, deliver me." Lord Bath and others had given him money for the orphan-house. One of the Prince of Wales's favourites, a privy counsellor of the king of Denmark, and seve- ral persons of rank, dined and drank tea with him. The manner in which he refers to this introduction amongst the great, has been quoted against him as a proof of vanity. Why should it ? True ; he says in his letters to Wesley, and other private friends, " the noble, the mighty, the wise, have been to hear me." These are also the very words which Lady Huntingdon employed in her letters to Doddridge, at the time. Was she vain or flattered, because she rejoiced that a door was opening for " the nobility to hear the gospel ? " Be- sides, this new sphere did not divert him from any of his old work, nor at all change his spirit or purposes. At the very crisis of this elevation, he said to Wesley, " My attachment to America will not permit me to abide long in England. If I formed societies, I should but weave a Penelope's web. I intend, therefore, to go about preaching the gospel to every 354 whitefield's life and times. creature." Accordingly, he was off to Scotland in a few days. On his arrival at Edinhurgh, he found a Moorjlelds congre- gation, as to numbers, to welcome him. At Glasgow also, the prospects were still more encouraging. Many at both places came to inform him of their conversion, on his former visits. Cambuslang also kindled again. All this was too much for some of the kirk folks, now that the Seceders were quarrelling amongst themselves. The synod of Glasgow and Ayr debated a motion, " tending to prohibit ministers from employing White- field;" — because he was a priest of the church of England; because he had not subscribed the fornmla ; because the scheme of the orphan-house was chimerical, and the money collected for it not fully accounted for ! The first count in the indictment is not so heavy now. Dr. Chalmers is the champion of the Eng- lish priesthood. The charge was better met, however, by the clergyman who said at the synod, " If Bishop Butler, Sherlock, or Seeker, were in Scotland, I should welcome them to my pul- pit ; and in this, I should imitate Rutherford, as firm a presby- terian as any of us, who employed Usher. There is no law of Christ, and no act of assembly, prohibiting me to give my pul- pit to any episcopal, or anabaptist, or independent minister, if of sound principles in the fundamentals of religion. Our church expressly enjoins, Art. 13, that great tenderness is to be used to foreign protestants." Gillies. Whitefield's personal character was nobly and indignantly vin- dicated by Dr. Erskine. He appealed to the affidavit of the magis- trates of Georgia, in the Philadelphia Gazette, in proof of the ho- nest application of the money collected for the orphan-house ; and cried shame upon presbyterians, who could object to Whitefield as a " suspended minister," whilst his only fault was, refusing to " use the communion-book in a presbyterian chapel." The result of the debate was, " the decent burial of the motion." It was, however, supported by thirteen. Twenty-seven voted for employing Whitefield in the pulpits of the kirk. Gillies says truly, " Upon the whole, the attacks informed the synod of the falsehood of many aspersions thrown out against him : and thus what was intended for his reproach, turned out to his honour." whitefield's life and times. 355 Whitefield himself says of these conclaves, " Two synods and one presbytery brought me upon the carpet; but all has worked for good. The more I was hlackeued, the more the Redeemer comforted me. If my enemies show themselves, I am persuaded Jesus will bless me to his people more and more." Amongst the charges then advanced against him, in order to injure him in the estimation of the poor, one was, that he was sent and paid by government to preach against the Pretender ! This charge came with an ill grace from both the Kirk and the Secession. Both preached against the Pretender, as much as he did ; with only this difference, that the former had pay an^ the latter thanks, while he had neither. It was, I think, about this time, that Whitefield had another interview with Ralph Erskine. Their last was in 1750. It was short, but affecting. On parting, Erskine embraced him and said, " We have seen strange things." They had both seen strange things ! Whitefield had seen himself traduced by ministers of a kirk, which had gladly played him off against the Secession : and Erskine had seen himself excluded by the presbytery of Dunfermline, whilst his own son, John, sat in judgment upon him. It is not true that John pronounced the sentence of ex- communication on his father. Gibb did that. It is, however, true, that the good old man said, " It was a sword piercing my heart, to see Johnny sitting with them." Erskine and Whitefield might well embrace as brethren after these strange things. Erskine's Life. This reconciliation went no further. The other Seceders kept up the old clamour against him, be- cause he did not " preach up the covenant ;" and he gave his old answer, " I preach up the covenant of grace." Notwithstanding all these attempts to lower him in public estimation, his old friends in Scotland stood by him. The godly ministers not only encouraged his attempts to serve the New Jersey college ; but also entered into his spirited (though im- prudent) design of turning the orphan-house into a college. On his return to London, he resumed his lectures at Lady Huntingdon's to the " great ones," as he calls them. Thirty, and sometimes sixty, persons of rank attended, although the newspapers were full of " strange lying accounts " of his recep- 2 A 2 356 whitefield's life and times. tion in Scotland, He availed himself of this influence, to for- ward his intended college : for which his plea was, — " If some such thing be not done, I cannot see how the southern parts will be provided with ministers ; for all are afraid to go over." On this ground he appealed to the trustees of Georgia ; reminding them that he had expended £5000 upon the orphan-house ; beg- ging them to relieve it, as a charitable institution, from all quit- rent and taxes ; and especially to allow him slaves. " White Jutnds," he said, had left his tract of land uncultivated. Whilst thus pleading for his own seminary, he did not forget New Jersey. He wrote to Mr. Pemberton, " If you or some other popular minister come over, and make an application in person, a collection might be recommended by the general as- sembly, and large contributions be raised from private persons. If one of the Indians was brought over, — and a proposal made to educate some of the converted Indians in the college, — it would certainly be of service." Thus he had our best missionary plans, as well as spirit, a century ago. Having set these schemes on foot, he went to Bristol ; and attended the sacrament at the cathedral next day. The bishop, he says, " behaved respectfully " to him. He visited also his old tutor, now one of the prebendaries, and met with the old kindness of Oxford. Those who have had a kind tutor will quite understand the following account of the interview. " I told him, that my judgment (as I trust) was a little more ripened than it was some years ago ; and that as fast as I found out my faults, I should be glad to acknowledge them. He said, the offence of the governors of the church would lessen and wear off, as I grew moderate.'" Whitefield did not tell the Doctor how little he cared for such moderation as the governors of that day required: but he wrote to Lady Huntingdon, on the subject of their fa- vour,— " I am pretty easy about that ! If I can but act an honest part, and be kept from trimming, I leave all consequences to Him who orders all things well." On his return to London, he found his assemblies at the Countess's " brilliant indeed," and Bolingbroke still one in them. It was now winter, and some of his noble friends from Scotland joined them. He felt not only deep interest in Boling- { whitefield's life and times. 357 broke, but had much hope of him at one time ; owing to his declared satisfaction with the doctrines of grace. " Who knows," he says, " what God may do?" If Bolingbroke was hoaxing Whitefield, it is to his everlasting disgrace. If he was not, it was no small item in his advantages, that God gave him a place in Whitefield's heart and prayers. The place he held there, had proved the means of salvation to many. Two or three of the nobility were won to Christ at this time. Still, they could not keep him from itinerating. In a few weeks he was at Bristol again. " I long to take \h&Jield," he said to the Countess ; and he did not take it in vain. " There was a great stirring among the dry bones at Kingswood and Bristol. Many new converts were won. One of them was a counsellor, who was so much affected, that his style of counsel- ling others to hear Whitefield, led his wife to suspect him of madness. At Plymouth also, where he had so many enemies formerly, he found a Tabernacle had been built in his absence, to which he was welcomed. He became the guest of a married couple, who claimed him as their spiritual father. Plymouth, he says, "^ seems quite a neiv place to me." He was much amused there to learn, that he had been called a Roman catholic, " If I am a Roman catholic," he said, " the pope must have given me a large dispensation." The " married couple" were the Kinsmans; soon the useful, as well as the intimate, friends of Whitefield. Mr. Kinsman became a popular preacher at the Tabernacle in London. He preached thejirst sermon in the present Tabernacle. His fame and success at Bristol were such that Whitefield was in the habit of calling Bristol, " Kinsman's Yi;»eriC«;" in allusion to his own foreign labours. His eloquence also must have been considerable ; for Shiiter, the comedian, was fond of hearing him. Poor Shuter once told Kinsman a sad story. He had been acting Falsiaff in London so often, that the physicians ordered him to Plymouth for change of air. Kinsman too had been sent home, after a hard campaign at the Tabernacle. Both had been wrought out. " Had you died," said Shuter, " it would have been in the service of the best of masters ; but had 358 WHITEFIELD'S LIFE AND TIMES. I, it would have been in the service of the devil. O Sir, do you think I shall ever be called again ? I certainly was — whilst studying my part in the park ; and had Mr. Whitefield let me come to the sacrament with him, I never should have gone back again. But the caresses of the great are insnaring. Poor things ! they are unhappy, and they want Shuter to make them laugh. O Sir, for such a life as youi's ! But when I have you I shall be Richard the Third again. That is what they call a good play ; as good as some sermons. And there are some striking moral things in it. But, after it, I shall come in again with my farce, ' A Dish of all Sorts,' and knock all that on the head. Fine reformers we are ! " It was on Shuter, as Ramhle, that Whitefield fixed his eye one morning at Tottenham Court, while inviting sinners of all classes to Christ, and said, — " And thou, poor Ramble, who hast long rambled from Him, come thou also. Oh, end thy ramblings, and come to Jesus." Cornelius Winter says, " Shuter was exceedingly struck, and coming unto Whitefield said, — ' I thought I should have fainted ; how could you serve me so ? '" At Plymouth also, when asked if he was a methodist, he said, " Mine is a fine method, is it not ? A methodist ! no ; I wish I was. If any are right, they are." Whitefield found in Plymouth and its neighbourhood many proofs, that his former visit had been very useful. Next to the conversion of Kinsman, no case pleased him so much as that of a young man, "now a preacher," who had then ascended a tree, to hear and mock. His levity had drawn the notice of White- field, who exclaimed, " Come down, Zaccheus, come down, and receive the Lord Jesus Christ. The word was backed with power. He heard, came down, believed, and now adorns the gospel." Letter to Lady Himtingdon. He had also the pleasure, at this time, to administer the sa- crament to a whole family, " who had no pastor." " It was an affecting sight," he says ; — " two parents presenting two daugh- ters and a son, in the most solemn manner, for the first time, to be communicants. I received them with all joy." It was not all sunshine, however, in Devonshire. He was rudely treated at Tavistock. The rabble brought a bull and whitefield's life and times. 359 dogs, and created much distvirbance whilst he was praying. He managed, however, to preach down the uproar. At Exeter, also, a man came prepared to knock him on the head with a stone, whenever the sermon should furnish an offensive ex- pression. He stood with the stone in his hand. He could find no fault. The sermon soon interested him so, that the stone dropped from his hand. Then his heart melted. After the service he went to Whitefield, and said with tears, " Sir, I came to break your head ; but God has given me a broken heart." Whitefield now returned to London in high health, after an itineracy in the west of 600 miles. He came back, however, " with a kind of fear and trembling," lest his health should break down in the city, and thus unfit him " to speak to the great and the noble, so as to win them to Jesus." But he soon rid himself of this fear, by his old maxim, " I throw myself blindfold into my Master's hands." The bishop of Exeter's 'pamphlet also, " The Enthusiasm of the Methodists and Papists compared," came out at this time, and created a stir, which helped him to forget his fears. He began immediately to an- swer it, and made greater efforts than ever to ingratiate the truth with the aristocracy. But this kind of work did not suit him. He was equally out of his element at his own desk, and in Lady Huntingdon's drawing-room. Accordingly, in a month, he was too ill to hold a pen. He therefore started off on a new itineracy ,• and by the time he reached Portsmouth, he was him- self again. The night after his arrival, he preached to many thousands ; and with such power, in spite of disturbance, that the chief opposer was conquered, and received him into his house with tears of shame and joy. Indeed, many who, a few days before, had been speaking all manner of evil of him, were soon urgent with him to prolong his visit. But Wales was wait- ing for him, and he could not stay long. In the Principality he had soon the pleasure, as in the days of old, to see "Jesus riding on in the chariot of the everlasting gos- pel." He now found all towns open, and all justices and magis- trates civil. On some occasions his audience amounted to twenty 3G0 whitefield's life and times. thousand persons. He himself computed the whole number he addressed, in eight Welch counties, at more than a hundred thousand ; and adds, " I think we have not had one dry meet- ing." So complete was his ascendancy in Wales now, that " not a dog stirred a tongue," during his circuit of eight hun- dred miles. From this vantage ground, he made a powerful appeal to Hervey, in the hope of drawing him into the fields. " Had you seen the simplicity of so many dear souls, I am per- suaded you would have said, Sit anima mea cum metJiodistis" But Hervey was too weak for field work. Whitefield himself broke down after this mighty effort, and was for some days at " the gates of the grave." He returned to London to welcome his wife home from Ber- mudas. On her arrival he learned that his character had been aspersed in the island by one of the clergy. But whilst he did not overlook this calumny altogether, he merely sent out the following answer ; " I am content to wait until the day of judg- ment for the clearing up of my character ; and after I am dead, I desire no other epitajyh than this, — Here lies George White- field. What sort of a man he was, the great day will discover J^ He then arranged his London affairs, and started again for the fields. On his arrival at Bristol, he was told that the bishop of W. (Wells ?) had charged him with jwrjury at the pump-rooms. The bishop had not, however, used the word perjury. He had only left others to give a name to his picture of violated ordi- nation vows. Indeed, the question had a imrliamentary settle- ment on both sides. Whitefield said, that he vowed to obey only "godly admonitions." And the bishop meant " nothing personal." In a few days after, Whitefield set out for Exeter, by way of Wellington. At this time he does not appear to have known Darracott, whom he afterward designated, — " The Star of the West r transferring the title from its first owner, Hieron. In- deed, he would have rode through Wellington without stopping, had not a woman recognised him in the street. She implored him to alight, and give the people a sermon. When he com- plied, she soon spread the news, and " a great company " came whitefield's life and times. 361 to hear him. He was so pleased, that he preached next day to a still larger audience. It does not appear that Darracott at- tended either sermon. He made ample amends, however, af- terwards. One reason of Whitefield's visit to the west, at this time, was (although perhaps he hardly acknowledged it to himself) to see how his letter to the bishop of Exeter had been received. He found, in his own circle there, that it had been " much blest." He learnt, also, that " my lord of Exeter had said, he wrote like an honest man, and has recanted several things ;" but, added Lavington, " he goes on in the same way yet." He did. He went to Exeter, and appeared in the Jields again. The bishop, therefore, threatened another pamphlet. Lavington could do more against methodists than write. About this time, he threatened to strip the gown from one of his own clergy, who was methodistical, and countenanced Whitefield. The bishop was saved the trouble. That moment the clergyman stripped himself, saying, " I can preach the gospel without a gown ;" and retired. Lavington was then glad to '' send for him, and soothe him :" but he indemnified himself for this condescension, by publishing immediately the second part of his " Enthusiasm compared." Whitefield had good reason, as well as great pro- vocation, to say of both parts, " The bishop has served the me- thodists, as the bishop of Constance served John Huss, when he ordered painted devils to be put round his head, before burning him." He did not answer him. He did better. He went to Exeter, accompanied by a rural dean, to preach the gospel as usual ; and divine influence accompanied the word. " This," he says, " is, I think, the best way to answer those who oppose themselves." He preached there twice on the same day. In the evening, the bishop and several of his clergy stood near to him, and saw ten thousand people awe-struck by his appeals. They saw also three large stones thrown at his head in suc- cession, by a furious drunkard, — one of which cut him deeply ; but neither the high priest nor his Levites interfered, although one of their own parishioners also was felled to the ground at the same time. Letter to Lady H. Next week he returned to London, and found some of the 362 whitefield's life and times. pious peeresses waiting to receive the sacrament from him. He spent a few days at home, and then started off for Yorkshire. There he visited Grimshaw, at Haworth, and administered the sacrament to above a thousand communicants in the church. When he preached, the churchyard was crowded. On a future occasion, when preaching in the church, he had such a high opinion of the pastor, that he took for granted the piety of the flock. " No, no. Sir," said good Grimshaw aloud, " the half of them are not converted by the grace of God. Speak to them faithfully." It is easy to conceive the effect of such an appeal on Whitefield. It was just the kind and manner of appeal, to set him on fire. It would have disconcerted almost any other man ; but it was vantage ground to him. He went from Haworth to Leeds, at the invitation, he says, " of one of Mr. Wesley's preachers, and by all his people." He was also introduced into their pulpit at Newcastle, by Charles Wesley, who, meeting him by the way, turned back to accom- pany him. This gratified him so much, that he preached yb/^r times in their rooms at Newcastle ; but he was obliged, at last, to go into the open air, to meet the crowds. At Leeds both the crowds and the commotion were immense. So much so, that he returned back upon it, after visiting some other parts of Yorkshire and Lancashire. During this tour, he won to Christ many of the men, who laid the foundations of not a few of the flourishing churches in these counties. He met, however, with as much " rude treat- ment," here and there in both, as sent him home praying, " Lord, give me a pilgrim heart, for my pilgrim life." On his arrival in London, he found many urgent invitations awaiting him from Ireland ; and the Cork riots had awakened his sympathies for the sufferers ; but although he used his influ- ence on their behalf with the great, and sent them word of this, he was afraid lest a visit might be deemed an intrusion upon the Wesleyan sphere. Besides, the primate of Ireland wished to give him preferment ; a thing he did not wish for. He was now " in winter quarters ;" but he was not idle nor useless. To use his own words, " the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle, and the shout of a King was in the camp," from whitefield's life and times. 363 week to week. " Thousands, thousands crowded to hear." Every day, also, he heard of instances of conversion. One in- stance pleased him very much. It was that of a boatswain, who before hearing him, knew no more about divine truth, " than the rvhistle he blew on board." He particularizes also a boy of eleven years of age, a woman of eigJtty, and a baker, who had been " a Jerusalem sinner." At this time, his intended college occupied much of his atten- tion. He wrote in all directions, in order to make friends to the plan. His usual appeal was, " We propose having an aca- demy or college at the orphan-house. The house is large ; it will hold a hundred. My heart, I trust, is larger, and will hold ten thousand." Still, his heart was in America. London did not, he says, " agree with his outward man." " Ranging seems my pro- vince; and methinks I hear a voice behind me saying. This is the way, walk in it. My heart echoes back. Lord, let thy pre- sence go along with me, and then send me where thou pleasest." That America would have pleased himself best, is evident from the following apostrophe, " In the midst of all, America, dear America ! is not forgotten. I begin to count the days, and to say to the months, ' Fly fast away, that I may spread the gospel net once more in dear America ! ' " This is delightful. It must be gratifying to American christians to be thus reminded of the place which their country held in Whitefield's heart a century ago. It is gratifying to me to tell them, that we did not learn from Whitefield, but from the revivals and missionary spirit in their oicn churches, to say, " America, dear America." When will ihej fuljil our joy, and be likeminded with us on the subject of slavery ,'' Surely no one will quote Whitefield against us ! Another object lay near to Whitefield's heart. It was during this winter's quarters, that he formed the design of identifying Lady Huntingdon with his societies — the only plan he ever laid for perpetuating them. He saw her a Dorcas, at " that dead place" — Ashby Place, and felt that she might and ought to be a Phoebe. She had used her influence, at his solicitation, with the court and the government, on behalf of the sufferers in the Cork riots ; and had readily patronized such poor or persecuted ob4 WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. ministers, as he brought under her notice. All this, and the want of a leader, led him to seek her patronage, especially for his societies in the west end of the town. How he opened the subject to her, I have been unable to dis- cover. It does not seem, however, to have been ill received : for she desired the public prayers of the Tabernacle for herself at the time ; — (not, of course, in reference to this matter ;) — and Whitefield read that part of her letter to the people, and in- formed her, that " thousands heartily joined in singing the fol- lowing verses for her Ladyship : " " Gladly we join to pray for those Who rich with worldly honour shine, Who dare to own a Saviour's cause, And in that hated cause to join : Yes, we would praise Thee, that a few Love Thee, though rich and noble too. " Uphold this star in thy right hand. Crown her endeavours with success ; Among the great ones may she stand, A witness of thy righteousness. Till many nobles join thy train, And triumph in the Lamb that 's slain." All this was in bad taste on both sides, however well meant or meekly taken. In the same letter, he said to her, " A leader is wanting. This honour hath been put upon your Ladyship by the great Head of the church : an honour conferred on few ; but an earnest of one to be put on your Ladyship before men and angels, when time shall be no more. That you may every day add to the splendour of your future crown, by always abound- ing in the work of the Lord, is the fervent prayer of ." How much " leader " means, in this document, or how far, if at all, it refers to the Tabernacle, I cannot judge. In the midst of all these attentions from and to nobility, Whitefield did not forget nor overlook his aged mother. A woman had neglected to procure for him some things he had ordered for her. A week's delay was thus occasioned. The moment he discovered this, he wrote, " I should never forgive vviiitefield's life and times. 365 myself, was I, by negligence or any wrong conduct, to give you a moment's needless pain. Alas, how little I have done for you ! Christ's care for his mother excites me to wish I could do any thing for you. If you would have any thing more brought, pray write, honoured mother ! " On this occasion he reminded her of his age. " To-morrow, it will be thirty-Jive years since you brought unworthy me into the world. Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes foun- tains of tears, that I might bewail my barrenness and unfruitful- ness in the church of God." About the same time he wrote thus to Lady Huntingdon, " Next Saturday I am thirty-five years old : I am ashamed to think how little I do or suffer for Christ. Fye upon me,fi/e upon me ! " These anecdotes are, I know, little ; but they reveal much of Whitefield's real character : and surely his deep self-abasement before God, may be allowed to balance his self-complacency in the patronage of the countess and her " elect ladies." His compliments to them admit of no excuse. They are almost as many and fulsome, as the flatteries which used to be addressed to the royal and noble patrons of Bible Societies. Those who remember that incense, and the assemblies which offered it, will hardly wonder, however much they deplore, that a poor method- ist burnt more incense to rank, than was wise or seemly. Whitefield was not constitutionally humble, bold, or unam- bitious. It took " twice seven years " of " pretty close intimacy with contempt," he says, to make contempt an " agreeable com- panion " to him. Like Paul, he had to learn contentment. " I did not like to part with my pretty character at first. It was death to be despised ; and worse than death to think of being laughed at by all. God knows how to train us up (jraduaUy for the war. He often makes me bold as a lion ; but I believe there is not a person living more timorous by nature. I find, a love of power sometimes intoxicates even God's dear chikben. It is much easier for me to obey than govern. This makes me fly from that which, at our first setting out, we are too apt to court. I cannot well buy humility at too dear a rate." Letters. At this time, Whitefield was not unknown at court, nor his elect ladies unnoticed by the king. On one occasion. Lady 366 whitefield's life and times. Chesterfield appeared in a dress, "with a brown ground and sil- ver flowers," of foreign manufacture. The king came up to her, smiling significantly. He then laughed aloud, and said, — " I know who chose that gown for you, — Mr. Whitefield : I hear you have attended on him for a year and a half." Her Lady- ship confessed she had, and avowed her approbation of him. She also regretted deeply afterwards, that she had not said more whilst she had such an opportunity. The secretary of state also assured him, that " no hurt was designed by the state " to the methodists. He had gone to the secretary, accompanied by a dissenting minister, Mr. G. (query Dr. GifFord ?) to " open the case " of the Irish brethren. The outrages committed upon them, brought him nearer to the dissenters and the Wesleyans. They had now a common cause. Accordingly, he was invited to preach in the Wesleyan chapel. Mr. Wesley read the prayers for him ; and next time Whitefield read them, before Mr. Wes- ley preached, and then united with him in administering the sacrament. This delighted him much. " Oh for love and gra- titude ! " he exclaims, — " I have now preached thrice in Mr. Wesley's chapel, and God was with us of a truth." He was now tired of London, and relapsing into his old com- plaints. The fact is, he had grown Jield-sick ; for that was his home-sickness. Accordingly, he started for the west of Eng- land again, and although rain and hail pelted him in his field pulpits, he preached "about twenty times in eight or nine days." The moment he was in his own element, he saw every thing in his old lights. Hence he says, " Every thing I meet with seems to carry this voice with it, — ' Go thou and preach the gospel ; be a pilgrim on earth ; have no party or certain dwelling-place.' My heart echoes back. Lord Jesus, help me to do or suffer thy will. When thou seest me in danger of nestling, — in pity — in tender pity, — put a thorn in my nest, to prevent me from it." Whilst at Bristol, Charles Wesley talked with him ahout preaching in the new Wesleyan room ; but it does not appear to have been much desired. Accordingly, Whitefield says, " / said hut little." He found, however, a larger sphere. He was allowed to preach from the window of Smith's Hall, and thus many thousands heard him. whitefield's life and times. 3G7 From Bristol he went to Wellington, and became the welcome guest of Darracott, whom he calls " a flaming and successful preacher of the gospel." Good Darracott had just lost three lovely children. Two of them had died on " the Saturday even- ing before the sacrament : but," says Whitefield, " weeping did not prevent sowing. He preached the next clay, and administered as usual. Our Lord strengthened him ; and, for his three natural, gave him above thirty spiritual, children; and he is likely to have many more. He has ventured his little all for Christ : and, last week, a saint died who left him and his heirs £200 in land. Did ever any one trust in God, and was forsaken ? " This interview with Darracott, who had also suffered much reproach in the service of Christ, and an interview with Pearsall of Taunton, who had been a preacher of righteousness before Whitefield was born, had an inspiring influence upon him. " I hegan to take the field again at his dwelling," he says, " for the spring ! I begin to hefjin to spend and be spent for Him who shed his own dear heart's blood for me. He makes ranging exceedingly pleasant. I want more tongues, more bodies, more souls, for the Lord Jesus. Had I ten thousand, — He should have them all." In this state of mind he visited many parts of Devonshire and Cornwall. At Gwinnop, he preached to a large audience, although the clergyman had preached a virulent ser- mon against him in the morning. This worthy had said on Saturday, " Now Whitefield is coming — I must put on my old armour." He did. Whitefield says, " It did but little execu- tion, because not Scripture-proof ; consequently, not out of God's armoury. I preached to many thousands. The rain drop- ped gently upon our bodies, and the grace of God seemed to fall like a gentle dew, sprinkling rain upon our souls." Thus in Cornwall, " an unthought-of and unexpectedly wide door " was opened. He preached in many churches, and the power of God came down so, that even the ministers were overcome. Such was the flying of doves to their windows there, that he ceased for a time to long for the wings of a dove to flee away to America. He returned to London much improved in health and spirits ; and, having rested a few days, he visited Doddridge and Her- vey, in order to promote a public subscription for the New 308 whitefield's iJi'j: and times. Jersey college. Doddridge entered warmly into the plan ; nobly hazarding all the consequences of associating with the man whom the Coward trust despised. Whitefield appreciated his kind- ness : " I thank you a thousand times," he says, " for your kindness, and assure you it is reciprocal. Gladly shall I call upon you again at Northampton." In this letter, he informed the Doctor, that Lady Huntingdon was to write to him that night, and thus playfully prepared him for her news : " She is strangely employed now. Can you guess ? I'he kind people of Ashby stirred up some of the baser sort to riot before her Lady- ship's door, whilst the gospel was preaching. Some of the peo- ple narrowly escaped being murdered, in their way home. The justice has ordered to bring the offenders before him." To her Ladyship he said on this occasion, " I trust you will live to see many of these Ashby stones become children to Abraham." Soon after this he went again into Yorkshire. At Rother- ham, he says, " Satan rallied his forces. The crier was em- ployed to give notice of a bear-baiting. You may guess who was the bear/ However, I preached twice. The drum was heard, and several watermen attended with great staves. The constable was struck, and two of the mobbers apprehended, but rescued afterwards. But all this does not come up to the kind usage of the people of Ashby ! " Sheffield and Leeds, he found to be a new and warmer climate. Lancashire, however, he still found to be but cold to him. All was quiet at Manchester, and he humbly hoped " some had enlisted ;" but no great impres- sion was made, although thousands attended. Liverpool he did not visit, at this time. At Bolton, a drunkard stood up to preach behind him ; and the wife of the person who lent him the field, twice attempted to stab the workman who put up the stand for him. This roused him, and he bore down all oppo- sition by a torrent of eloquence, which quite exhausted him. In the night, however, some of the Bolloners got into the barn and stables where his chaise and horses were put up, and cut both shamefully. This he called, "Satan showing his teeth." From this quarter, he went into Cumberland ; new ground to him. At Kendal, " such entrance was made as could not have been expected." The impression was so great under his first whitkfield's life and times. 36T) sermon, that he could not forget it when he left, and therefore he returned to confirm " the souls of the disciples." At Ulver- ston, also, much good was done. " There," he says, " Satan made some small resistance : a clergyman, who looked more like a butcher than a minister, came with two others, and charged a constable with me. But I never saw a poor creature sent off in such disgrace." Further particulars of this northern itineracy would only present similar alternations of insult and success. He preached " above ninety times, and to a hundred and forty thousand people," on this route from London to Edinburgh, where he arrived in the beginning of July. " He was received," says Gillies, " as usual, in the most tender and loving manner ; preaching generally twice a day to great mul- titudes, whose seriousness and earnest desire to hear him, made him exert himself beyond his strength." " By preaching always twice," (he says,) " and once thrice, and once/o;r;- times, in a day, I am quite weakened ; but I hope to recruit again. I am burn- ing with a fever, and have a violent cold : but Christ's presence makes me smile at pain, and the fire of His love burns up all fevers whatsoever." Whitefield's own estimate of this visit to Scotland, was very high. He says, " I shall have reason to all eternity to bless God for it. I have reason to think that many are under con- victions, and am assured of hundreds having received great benefit and consolation. Not a dog moved his tongue all the while I was there, and many enemies were glad to be at peace with me. Oh that I may spring afresh ! " On his return to London, he was received with great joy both at the Tabernacle and West-Street. During his stay, Hervey came up on a visit, and resided with him, and Wesley met with them occasionally. As may be supposed, they had much " sweet fellowship." But even that could not divert him from the fields long. It was now autumn ,• and, therefore, he resolved to work hard before going into winter quarters. Chatham owes much to this resolution ! The awakening produced by his visit he calls " as promising a work as in almost any part of England." It re- acted also upon Sheerness. There a few pious people won the con- 2 B 370 vvhitefield's life and times. fidence of good Shruhsole, and drew him on step by step to read and pray amongst them, until he hecame a minister, although without relinquishing his office in the dock-yard. In reference to this, he said, " I am accounted a phenomenon, there never having been a preaching master mast-maker before. However, I know there has been a preaching Carpenter, of the most ex- alted rank, and this blessed person I am resolved, by the grace of God, to imitate while I live." He did, Mr. Shrubsole wrote a " Pilgrim's Progress," in which he has drawn the character of Whitefield with great accuracy, and sustained it with much effect, under the name, Ferviclus. He wrote also an elegy on White- field's death, quite equal to any thing of the kind which appeared on that occasion. His " Pilgrim, or Christian Memoirs," pre- sents, perhaps, a fairer and fuller view of the state of religion in England at this time, than any other contemporary book. I hope it is not out of print ! It was the first book which drew my at- tention to the Times of Whitefield. It was lent to me, whilst a student at Hoxton College, by the late W. Shrubsole, Esq. of the Bank of England ; the son of the author, in every sense, and one of my earliest and kindest friends, when I was " a stranger in a strange land." I never enter the Bank of Eng- land, without remembering with a thrill of grateful emotion, the sweet evenings I spent there in his chambers, and in his family circle ! There I obtained my first glimpses of English society, (and I shall never forget them,) on my arrival in the metropolis from the mountains and solitudes of Aberdeenshire. I feel young again in recording this fact. There I heard, for the first time, instrumental music and musical science combined with divine worship ; and now I never hear them, without remem- bering how all my Scotch prejudices against this combination were charmed away at the Bank chambers of Mr. Shrubsole. CHAPTER XVII. WHITEFIELD IN IRELAND. Whitefield's connexion with Ireland was too slight to impress any character upon the religion of the country, or even to give an impulse to it. His preaching won souls ; but it set in mo- tion no evangelizing enterprise, except the itineracy of the cele- brated John Cennick, who obtained for the methodists in Ire- land the nick-name of swaddlers, by a Christmas sermon. His text was, " Ye shall find the babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." A catholic who was present, and to whom the language of Scripture was a novelty, says Dr. Southey, " thought this so ludicrous, that he called the preacher a swad- dler, in derision ; and this unmeaning word became the nick- name of the methodists, and had all the eifect of the most op- probrious appellation." It had indeed ! When persecution arose against the Wesleys and their adherents, the watchword of the mob was, " Five pounds for a swaddler's head ! " " Anti-swad- dlers " was a name chosen for themselves, by the popish party, and even avowed by them at the trial of the rioters. A public notice was posted up at the Exchange, with the writer's name affixed to it, in which he offered to head any mob that would pull down any house that should harbour a swaddler. And houses were demolished, and much furniture destroyed. Nor was this all. In Cork, Butler's mob fell upon men and women, old and young, with clubs and swords, and beat and wounded them in a dreadful manner. Even the mayor told one of the complainants, whose house was beset and about to be pulled down, that if he would not " turn the preachers out," he must take whatever he might get. The sheriff also sent a poor 2 B 2 372 whitefield's life and times. woman to Bridewell for expressing regret at seeing the vagabond ballad-singer, Butler, going about in the dress of a clergyman, with the Bible in one hand, and ballads in the other. Moore's Life of Wesley. Mr. Wesley himself describes, what he calls, " Cork persecution," thus; — "breaking the houses of his Majes- ty's protestant subjects, destroying their goods, spoiling or tearing the very clothes from their backs ; striking, bruising, v/ounding, murdering them in the streets ; dragging them through the mire, without any regard to age or sex ; not sparing even those of tender years ; no, nor women, though great with child ; but, with more than pagan or Turkish barbarity, de- stroying infants that were yet unborn," These enormities were well nigh over before Whitefield visit- ed Ireland. The higher powers had interfered, when they found that the lower were nearly as low as Butler. Whitefield found the benefit of the shield which Wesley so much needed, and so nobly won. He had, however, preached in Ireland before Wesley visited it; which was in 1747. In 1738, Whitefield touched there, on his return from America, weak and weary, after a tedious and famishing voyage. When he landed from the vessel, " we had," he says, " but half a pint of water left, and my stomach was exceeding weak through long abstinence. Most of us begin to be weak, and look hollow-eyed. My clothes have not been off, except to change, all the passage. Part of the time I lay on open deck, part on a chest, and the remainder on a bedstead covered with my buffalo's skin." He was wel- comed at a " strong castle," where, he says, " I asked the ser- vant for water, and she gave me milk, and brought forth butter in a lordly dish. And never — did I make a more comfortable meal ! " After resting for a day or two at Kilrush to renew his strength, he went to Limerick, where the bishop. Dr. Burs- cough, received him with much hospitality and candour. His Lordship requested him to preach in the cathedral on Sunday, and on parting with him kissed him, and said, " Mr. Whitefield, God bless you ; I wish you success abroad ; had you staid in town, this house should have been your home." This welcome was the more gratifying, because his sermon had agitated the WHITEFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 373 people. In walking about the town next clay, " all the inha- bitants," he says, " seemed alarmed, and looked most wishfully at me as I passed along." The contrast in his circumstances, also, affected him very deeply. " Good God ! " he exclaims, " where was I on Saturday last ? In hunger, cold, and thirst- ing ; but now I enjoy fulness of bread, and all things convenient for me. God grant I may not, Jeshurun-like, wax fat, and kick ! Perhaps it is more difficult to know how to abound, than how to want." From Limerick he went to Dublin, where he preached twice in the churches ; the second time to such a rivetted crowd, that he calls it, " like a London congregation." Here also the bishops were neither afraid nor ashamed of him. The primate of all Ireland invited him to dinner, and told him that he heard of him from Gibraltar. The bishop of Londonderry also was equally kind. Whitefield felt all this deeply, and rejoiced with trembling. " Dearest Jesus," he exclaims, " grant me humility ; so shall thy favours not prove my ruin," Such was his first reception in Ireland. His second, in 1751, although upon the whole favourable, was not " like unto it." He was now a field preacher, and just hot from Wales, where he had been preaching twice a day, over a space of 500 miles. He began his labour in Dublin, and found at once large con- gregations hearing, " as for eternity." In Limerick and Cork, also, his commanding eloquence overawed the old persecutors. The public cry was, " Methodism is revived again ;" but it was the signal of welcome, not of war, as formerly. At this time he was both very weak in body, and subject to daily vomiting. During this visit, he preached eighty times, and with great suc- cess. " Providence," says he, " has wonderfully prepared my way, and overruled every thing for my greater acceptance. Every where there seems a shaking among the dry bones, and the trembling lamps of God's people have been supplied with fresh oil. The word ran and was glorified." " Hundreds," says Dr. Southey, " prayed for him when he left Cork ; and many of the catholics said, that, if he would stay, they would leave their priests." One cause of Whitefield's popularity at this time was, that 374 whitefield's life and times, he meddled not with Irish politics. " He condemned all poli- tics," says Dr. Southey, " as below the children of God :" but why did the Doctor add, " alluding, apparently, to the decided manner in which Wesley always inculcated obedience to govern- ment as one of the duties of a christian ; making it his boast, that whoever became a good methodist, became at the same time a good subject." Was Whitefield less loyal than Wesley ? When ? Where ? Not in Ireland certainly. I have now be- fore me the letter which justifies the Doctor in hinting that Whitefield " seems to have regarded the conduct of Wesley and his lay-preachers," in Ireland, " with no favourable eye." But why should this be interpreted to mean their politics chiefly, or at all ? Dr. Southey quotes from Whitefield, as if he had said ihdif sovaQ dreadful oiFences had been given" by the Wes- leyans ; and argues as if they had been political offences. Whitefield himself says, " I find, through the many offences that have lately been given, matters (among the methodists) were brought to a low ebb ; but now the cry is, ' Methodism is revived again.' Thanks be to God, that I have an opportunity of showing my disinterestedness, and that I preach not for a party of my own, but for the common interest of my blessed Master. Your Ladyship" (the letter is to Lady Huntingdon) " would smile to see how the wise have been catched in their own craftiness." Now this justifies the hint, that Whitefield *^ seems to have regarded their conduct with no favourable eye." Indeed, it is the severest thing I know of, that he says in con- nexion with Wesley's name, — for that he meant him, by " the wise caught in their own craftiness," is obvious. It is not " ap- parent," however, that he alluded to "the decided manner in which Wesley inculcated obedience to government." That, in fact, was not a matter of policy, but of vital prmciple, with Wesley and Whitefield too. Wesley had, however, lines of policy, which Whitefield was jealous of, and opposed to^ not without reason. Whitefield's last visit to Ireland was in 1757, when he nearly lost his life, after preaching at Oxminton Green. This was popish outrage. The church was not unfriendly to him. In- deed, one of the bishops said to a nobleman, who told White- whitefield's life and times. 375 field, " I am glad he is come to rouse the people." Even the primate solicited him to " accept of some considerable church preferment, which he declined." De Courcy. " Preferments, honours, ease, he deemed but loss, Vile and contemptible, for Jesus' cross : Inur'd to scandal, injuries, and pain. To him to live was Christ ; to die was gain." De Courcy' s Elegy. His own narrative of the outrage is as interesting as it is cir- cumstantial.— " Many attacks have I had from Satan's children, but yesterday you would have thought he had been permitted to give me an effectual parting blow. I had once or twice ven- tured out to Oxminton Green, a large place like Moorfields, situated very near the barracks, where the Ormond and Liberty boys, that is, the high and low party boys, generally assemble every Sunday, to fight each other. When I was here last, the congregations were very numerous, and the word seemed to come with power, and no noise nor disturbance ensued. This encouraged me to give notice, that I would preach there again. I went through the barracks, the door of which opens into the Green, and pitched my tent near the barrack walls — not doubt- ing of the protection, or at least interposition, of the officers and soldiery, if there should be occasion. But how vain is the help of man ! Vast was the multitude that attended. We sang, prayed, and preached without molestation ; only now and then a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at me. " It being war time, I exhorted, as is my usual practice, my hearers, not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings ; and after sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms. All being over, I thought to return home the way I came ; but, to my great surprise, access was denied, so that I had to go near half a mile from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, &c. Finding me unat- tended, (for a soldier and four methodist preachers, who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their mercy. But their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty. Volleys of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step I took a fresh stone made me reel backwards and forwards, till I 376 whitefield's life and times. was almost breathless, and all over a gore of blood. My strong beaver hat served me as it were for a scull cap for a while ; but at last it was knocked off, and my head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and woimds ; one was particularly large, and near my temples. I thought of Stephen, and as I believed that I received more blows, I was in great hopes that like him I should be despatched, and go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence of my Master. But providentially a minis- ter's house lay next door to the Green ; with great dijBiculty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to, and shut upon, me. Some of the mob in the mean time having broke part of the boards of the pulpit into large splinters, they beat and wounded my servant grievously in his head and arms, and then came and drove him from the door. For a while I con- tinued speechless, panting for, and expecting every breath to be my last. Two or three of the hearers, my friends, by some means or other, got admission, and kindly with weeping eyes washed my bloody wounds, and gave me something to smell to and to drink. I gradually revived, but soon found the lady of the house desired my absence, for fear the house should be pulled down. What to do I knew not, being near two miles from Mr. W 's place ; some advised one thing, and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends that came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off in dis- guise. I accepted of and put them on, but was soon ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper habit, and threw them off with disdain. I determined to go out (since I found my presence was so troublesome) in my proper habit ; immediately deliverance came. A methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach ; I leaped into it, and rode in gospel triumph through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists unhurt, though threatened every step of the ground. None but those who were spectators of the scene, can form an idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping, mourning, but now joyful methodists. A chris- tian surgeon was ready to dress our wounds, which being done, I went into the preaching-place, and after giving a word of ex- hortation, joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him vvhitefield's life and times. 377 who makes our extremity his opportunity, who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people. The next morning I set out for Port Arlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors hath often made preachers. That I may be thus revenged of them, is my hearty prayer." CHAPTER XVIII. whitefield's characteristic sayings. 1734 TO 1745. Contentment. " I find all uneasiness arises from having a will of my own ; therefore I would desire to will only what God wills." Condition. " Alas ! that any one should inquire after such a wretch as I am. As for my quality ; I was a poor, mean drawer (tapster) ; but, by the grace of God, I am now intended for the ministry. As for my estate ; I am a servitor. And as to my condition and circumstances; I have not (of my own) where to lay my head. But my friends, by God's providence, minister daily to me: and, in return for such unmerited, unspeakable blessings, I trust the same good Being will give me grace to dedicate myself without reserve to his service — to spend and be spent for the welfare of my fellow-creatures, and in endeavour- ing to promote the gospel of his Son as much as lieth in my poor power." Whitefield's early purpose turned out an accurate prophecy ! He became what he wished to be, and did what he designed. Humility. " Catch an old christian without humility — if you can ! It is nothing but this flesh of ours, and those cursed seeds of the proud apostate, which lie lurking within us, that make us think ourselves worthy of the air we breathe. When our eyes are opened by the influence of divine grace, we then shall begin to think of ourselves ^ as we ought to think ;' even that Christ is all in all, and we less than nothing." Inexperience. " Oh let us young, inexperienced soldiers, be always upon our guard. The moment we desert our post, the whitefield's life and times. 379 enemy rushes in : and if he can but so divert our eyes from look- ing heavenward, (often,) he will soon so blind us, that we shall not look towards it at all. A great deal may be learnt from a little fall." Example. " The degeneracy of the age is not the least ob- jection against advances in piety. It is true, indeed, that in- stances of exalted piety are rarely to be met with in the present age: one would think, if we were to take an estimate of our religion from the lives of most of its professors, that Christianity was nothing but a dead letter. But then — it is not our religion but ourselves that is to blame for this." Such were some of Whitefield's " first principles," when he began to study at Oxford. How well they lasted, and how much they influenced him, all through life, will appear equally from his history, and from their frequent recurrence in other and more powerful forms, in this sketch of his governing maxims. The sketch itself I have made with some care, in order to illus- trate both his talents and piety ; that those who speak of him, may judge of him from his " sayings," as well as from his " do- ings." Had Dr. Doddridge reviewed the following Miscellany of Whitefield's maxims, he would have retracted the charge of " weakness " he made against him, and heightened all his eulo- giums on the piety and zeal of his friend. But Doddridge saw Whitefield chiefly, if not only, when Whitefield had preached away all his strength and spirits, in " the great congregations," and could speak only of his work and warfare. Thus he judged of his talents, as a Scotch minister did of his devotion, when he was jaded by hard labour. Posterity will now judge of both for themselves, — from the following specimens of both. Self-renunciation. " What is there so monstrously terri- ble in a doctrine, that is the constant subject of our prayers, whenever we put up that petition, ' Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven ? ' The import of which seems to be this, — that we do every thing God wills, and nothing but what he willeth ; that we do those things he willeth, only because he willeth. This cannot, indeed, be done in a day. We have not only a new house to build up, but also an old one to pull down." Temptation. " We find our Saviour was led into the wil- 380 whitefield's life and times. derness before he entered upon his public ministry : and so must we too, if we would tread in his steps." Prayers requested. " If Pauncefort's petitions for me should run in this manner, I should be thankful : — That God should finish the good work he has begun in me ; that I may never seek nor be fond of worldly preferment ; but may employ every mite of those talents it shall please God to intrust me with, to His glory and the church's good; and likewise, that the endeavours of my friends to revive pure religion in the world, may meet with proper success." Consecration. " I can call heaven and earth to witness, that when the bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up a mar- tyr to him who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto him are all future events and contingencies : I have thrown myself hruuJfold, and I trust without reserve, into His almighty hands." First Sermon. " It was my intention to have at least a hun- dred sermons with which to begin my ministry : I have not a single one by me, except one which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman — to convince him how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching. He kept it a fortnight, and then sent it back with a guinea for the loan ; telling me he had preached it morning and evening to his congregation, by divid- ing it." Reproach. " Strange, that any one should let a little re- proach deprive them of an eternal crown ! Lord, what is man ! In a short time we shall have praise enough. Heaven will echo with the applause given to the true followers of the Lamb." A Wife's Portrait. " I live in hopes of seeing you and your wife again (growing in grace) in England. You told me, she desired I would draw her picture ; but, alas ! she has applied to an improper limner. However, though I cannot describe what she is, I can tell what she ought to be : — Meek, patient, long- suffering, obedient in all things, not self-willed, not soon angry, no brawler, swift to hear, slow to speak, and ready to every good word and work. But I can no more ; I dare not go on in telling another what she ought to be, when I want so much myself; only this I know, when possessed of those good qualities before- mentioned, she will then be as happy as her heart can wish." wiiitefield's life and times. 381 Miracles. " What need is there for them, now that we see greater miracles every day done by the power of God's word ? Do not the spiritually blind now see ? Are not the spi- ritually dead now raised, and the leprous souls now cleansed, and have not the poor the gospel preached unto them ? And if we have the thing already, which such miracles were only in- tended to introduce, why should we tempt God in requiring fur- ther signs ? He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." Warning. " God forbid I should be called, at the great day, to say, that my dear Mr. put his hand to the plough and turned back unto perdition. Good God ! the thought strikes me as though a dart was shot through my liver. Return, re- turn. My dear friend, I cannot part from you for ever. Do not speak peace to your soul, when there is no peace. Do not turn factor for the devil. Do not prejudice or hurt my brother, and thereby add to the grief you have already occasioned." Zeal. " I love those that thunder out the word. The chris- tian world is in a deep sleep. Nothing but a loud voice can awaken them out of it." Zeal and Prudence. " Had we a thousand hands and tongues, there is employment enough for them all : people are every where ready to perish for lack of knowledge. As the Lord has been pleased to reveal his dear Son in us, oh let us stir up that gift of God, and with all boldness preach him to others. Freely we have received, freely let us give : what Christ tells us by his Spirit in our closets, that let us proclaim on the house-top. He who sends will protect us. All the devils in hell shall not hurt us, till we have finished our testimony. And then if we should seal it with imprisonment or death, well will it be with us, and happy shall we be evermore ! But the proof of our sincerity will be when we come to the trial. I fear for no one so much as myself." Impatience. " I want to leap my seventy years. I long to be dissolved, to be with Christ. Sometimes it arises from a fear of falling, knowing what a body of sin I carry about me ! Some- times from a prospect of future labours and sufferings, I am out of humour, and wish for death as Elijah did. At others, I am tempted, and then I long to be freed from temptations. But it 382 whitefield's life and times. is not thus always : there are times when my soul hath such foretastes of God, that I long more eagerly to be with him ; and the frequent prospect of the happiness which the spirits of just men made perfect now enjoy, often carries me, as it were, into another world." BuNYAN. " And oh what sweet communion did he enjoy in Bedford gaol ! I really believe a minister will learn more by one month's confinement, than by a year's study," Blasts. " The light that has been given us, is not to be put under a bushel, but on a candlestick. Satan, indeed, by blasts of persecution, will do all he can to put it out. If our light be the light of Christ, those blasts will only cause it to shine the brighter." Friends. " Nothing gives me more comfort, next to the assurance of the eternal continuance of God's love, than the pleas- ing reflection of having so many christian friends to watch with my soul. I wish they would smite me friendly, and reprove me oftener than they do ; I would force my proud heart to thank them." Candour. " Success I fear elated my mind. I did not be- have towards you, and other ministers of Christ, with that hu- mility which became me. I freely confess my fault ; I own my- self, to be but a novice. Your charity, dear Sir, will excite you to pray that I may not through pride fall into the condemnation of the devil. Dear Sir, shall I come out into the world again or not ? Must I venture myself once more among firebrands, arrows, and death ? Methinks I hear you reply, ' Yes, if you come forth in the strength of the Lord God, and make mention of his righteousness only.' It is my desire so to do. I would have Jesus all in all. Like a pure crystal I would transmit all the light he poureth upon me." Humility. " If possible, Satan will make us to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think. I can tell this by fatal experience. It is not sudden flashes of joy, but having the humility of Christ Jesus, that must denominate us chris- tians. If we hate reproof, we are so far from being true fol- lowers of the Lamb of God, that in the opinion of the wisest of men, we are brutish." Ingenious Fidelity. " The principles which I maintain. whitefield's life and times. 383 are purely Scriptural, and every way agreeable to the Church of England Articles. What I have been chiefly concerned about is, lest any should rest in the bare speculative knowledge, and not experience the power of them in their own hearts. What avails it, Sir, if I am a patron for the righteousness of Jesus Christ in behalf of another, if at the same time I am self- righteous myself? I am thus jealous, I trust with a godly jealousy, because I see so many self-deceivers among my ac- quaintance. There is one in particular, (whom I love, and for whom I most heartily pray,) who approves of my doctrine, and hath heard it preached many years past, but I could never hear him tell of his experiences, or of what God has done for his soul. He hath excellent good desires and intentions, but I think he wants something more : Lord, for thy infinite mercy's sake, grant he may know himself even as he is known ! I need not tell Mr. D who this dear friend is — you are intimately acquainted with him ; you love him as you do your own heart ; you are never out of his company. O dear Sir, be not angry. Methinks I hear you, by this time, making an application, and saying, ' Then I am the man.' True, dear Sir, I confess you are. But love, love for your better part, your soul, your pre- cious soul, this love constrains me to use this freedom. You are more noble than to take it ill at my hands : I could not bear even to suspect that you deceived yourself, dear Sir, and not tell you such a suspicion was in my heart. That God may powerfully convince you of self-righteousness, and clothe you with the righteousness of his dear Son ; that he may fill you with his grace, and thereby fit you for, and at last translate you to, his glory, is the hearty prayer of, dear Sir, your most obliged and aifectionate friend, and humble servant, G. W." Catholicity. " I wish all names among the saints of God were swallowed up in that one of christian. I long for pro- fessors to leave off placing religion in saying, ' I am a church man,' ' I am a dissenter.' My language to such is, ' Are you of Christ ? If so, I love you with all my heart.' " 384 whitefield's life and times. Self-Knowledge. " My heart is like Ezekiel's temple, the further I search into it, the greater abominations I discover ; but there is a fountain opened for sin and all uncleanness." Godly Jealousy. " There is nothing I dread more than having my heart drawn away by earthly objects. — When that time comes, it will be over with me indeed ; I must then bid adieu to zeal and fervency of spirit, and in eiFect bid the Lord Jesus to depart from me. For alas, what room can there be for God, when a rival hath taken possession of the heart ? My blood runs cold at the very thought thereof. I cannot, indeed, I cannot away with it." Wonder. " iVs for my ov/n part, I often stand astonished at the riches of free distinguishing grace, and I often feel my- self so great a sinner, that I am tempted to think nothing can be blessed which comes from such unhallowed hands and lips ; but yet the Lord is with me, and attends his word with mighty power." Assurance. " The root of the matter is twisted round every faculty of the soul, which daily is supported with this assurance, that Christ can no more forsake the soul he loves, than he can forsake himself." Confession. '' All that people do say of me, affects me but little ; because I know worse of myself than they can say con- cerning me. My heart is desperately wicked. Was God to leave me I should be a remarkable sinner." Zeal, " Nature would sometimes cry out, ' Spare thyself;' but when I am offering Jesus to poor sinners, I cannot forbear exerting all my powers. Oh that I had a thousand lives ; my dear Lord Jesus should have them all." Affliction. " Well may God afflict me ; I richly deserve it ; and when he brings me low, nothing grieves me so much, as to think that I should be so froward, as to oblige the God of love to strike me with his rod. But, oh the goodness of the Lord ! His rod, as well as staff, do comfort and build up my soul. I would not but be tried for ten thousand worlds. Blessed be God, I am enabled to clasp the cross, and desire to glory in nothing more." Luther. " I find Luther's observation to be true : ' Times whitefield's life and times. 385 of reformation are times of confusion ;' as yet the churches in America are quiet, hut I expect a sifting time ere long." America. " I am more and more in love with the good old puritans ; I am pleased at the thoughts of sitting down hereafter with the venerahle Cotton, Norton, Elliot, and that great cloud of witnesses, which first crossed the western ocean for the sake of the gospel, and the faith once delivered to the saints. At present, my soul is so filled, that I can scarce proceed." Parliament. " Though I scarce know an oak from a hickory, or one kind of land from another, I am subpoenaed to appear before parliament, to give an account of the condition of the province of Georgia, when I left it." Assurance. " As for assurance, I cannot but think all who are truly converted must know that there was a time in which they closed with Christ : but then, as so many have died only with an humble hope, and have been even under doubts and fears, though they could not but be looked upon as christians, I am less positive than once I was, lest haply I should condemn some of God's dear children. The farther we go in the spi- ritual life, the more cool and rational shall we be, and yet more truly zealous. I speak this by experience." Holy Fire. " I desire that none of my wildfire may be mixed with the pure fire of holy zeal coming from God's altar. I think it my duty to wait, to go on simply in preaching the everlasting gospel, and I believe we shall yet see the salvation of God." Field Preaching, " Every one hath his proper gift. Field preaching is my plan. In this I am carried as on eagles' wings." Pharisees. " I find no such enemies to the cross of Christ, as those who keep up the form of religion, and are orthodox in their notions, but are ignorant of an experimental acquaintance with Jesus." Punning. " Once in my sermon I said, ' Oh that New Eng- land was full of new creatures ! ' " Catholic Spirit. " I talk freely with the Messrs. Wes- ley, though we widely differ in a certain point. Most talk of a catholic spirit ; but it is only till they have brought people oSt) whitefiei.d's life and times. into the pale of their own church. This is downright secta- rianism, not Catholicism. How can I act consistently, unless I receive and love all the childi-en of God, whom I esteem to be such, of whatever denomination they may be ? Why should we dispute when there is no probability of convincing ? I think this is not giving up the faith, but fulfilling our Lord's new command, ' Love one another ;' and our love is but feigned, unless it produces proper eifects. I am persuaded, the more the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, the more all nar- rowness of spirit will subside and give way : besides^ so far as we are narrow-spirited, we are uneasy. Prejudices, jealousies, and suspicions make the soul miserable, so far as they are en- tertained.'' Zeal. " Those who are not solidly established in the love of God, will fall too much in love with the outward form of their pai'ticular church, be it what it will. But as the love of God gets the ascendency, the more they will be like him and his holy angels, and consequently rejoice when souls are brought to Jesus, whatever instruments may be made use of for that pur- pose. If therefore some that you and I know, are too confined (as I believe is too much the case) ; if they do not preach more frequently, and abound more in good works ; I think it is for want of having their hearts more inflamed with the love of God, and their graces kept in more constant exercise. To stir up the gift of God that is in us, is an apostolical injunction ; and if we do not keep upon our watch, we shall fall into a false still- ness. Nature loves ease ; and as a blind zeal often prompts us to speak too much, so tepidity and lukewarmness often cause us to speak too little. Divine Avisdom alone is profitable to direct ; and I would be very cautious how I speak, lest I should take too much upon me." Bigotry. " Disputing wath bigots and narrow-spirited people will not do. I intend henceforward to say less to them, and pray more and more to our Lord for them. ' Lord, enlarge their hearts,' is my continual prayer for such, who are so strait- ened in their own bowels. Blessed be God, this partition-wall is breaking down daily in some of our old friends' hearts in London. I exhort all to go where they can profit most. I whitefield's life and times. 387 preach what I helieve to be the truth, and then leave it to the Spirit of God to make the application. When we have done this, I think we have gone to the utmost bounds of our com- mission." Life and Death. " ' Why are you reconciled to life ? ' Be- cause I can do that for Jesus on earth, which I cannot do in heaven : I mean, be made instrumental in bringing some poor, weary, heavy laden sinners to find rest in his blood and right- eousness ; and, indeed, if our Saviour was to offer either to take me now, or to stay only to take one sinner more, I would desire to stay to take him with me." Devotion. " Morning and evening retirement is certainly exceeding good ; but if through weakness of body, or frequency of preaching, I cannot go to God in my usual set times, I think my spirit is not in bondage. It is not for me to tell how often I use secret prayer ; if I did not use it, nay, if in one sense I did not pray without ceasing, it would be difficult for me to keep up that frame of soul, which by the divine blessing I daily enjoy. If the work of God prosper, and your hands be- come more full, you will then, dear Sir, know better what I mean. But enough of this. God knows my heart; I would do every thing I possibly could to satisfy all men, and give a rea- son of the hope that is in me with meekness and fear ; but I cannot satisfy all that are waiting for an occasion to find fault : our Lord could not ; I therefore despair of doing it," But a Sinner. " You are but a sinner, and Jesus died for sinners. Come and welcome to Jesus Christ." God's Work. " I have been faulty in looking too much to foreign help, and despising that which God had given me. When our Lord was to feed the multitude, he would not create new bread, but multiplied the loaves that were already at hand. * Ye need not send them away, give ye them to eat,' said he : so say I to my dear brethren at the Tabernacle. Work with the materials you have. In doing the work, God will teach you how to do it. Experience will grow up with the work itself. Thus God hath dealt with me, and so he continues to deal." Luther and Calvin. " Mr. Wesley I think is wrong in 2 c 2 388 whitefield's life and times. some things, and Mr. Law wrong also ; yet I believe that both Mr. Law and Mr. Wesley, and others, with whom we do not agree in all things, will shine bright in glory. It is best there- fore for a gospel minister, simply and powerfully to preach those truths he has been taught of God, and to meddle as little as possible with those who are children of God, though they should differ in many things. This would keep the heart sweet, and at the same time not betray the truths of Jesus. I have tried both the disputing and the quiet way, and find the latter far prefer- able to the former. I have not given way to the Moravian brethren, or Mr. Wesley, or to anj^ whom I thought in an error, no not for an hour. But I think it best not to dispute, when there is no probability of convincing. I pray you, for Christ's sake, to take heed lest your spirit should be imbitter- ed, when you are speaking or writing for God. This will give your adversaries advantage over you, and make people think your passion is the effect of your principles. Since I have been in England this time, Calvin's example has been very much pressed upon me. You know how Luther abused him. As we are of Calvinistical principles, I trust we shall, in this respect, imitate Calvin's practice, and show all meekness to those who may oppose." Poverty. " How is the world mistaken about my circum- stances : worth nothing myself, embarrassed for others, and yet looked upon to flow in riches ! Our extremity is God's op- portunity." Head and Heart. " Though principles are not to be rested in, yet it is a good thing to have a clear head as well as a clean heart. Some people make nothing of principles ; but why are they so zealous in propagating their own." Judging. " Do not think that all things the most refined christian in the world does, is right ; or that all principles are wrong, because some that hold them are too imbittered in their spirits. It is hard for good men, when the truths of God are opposed, to keep their temper, especially at the first attack. Nothing but the all-conquering blood of the dear Redeemer can destroy the wildfire in the heart." Usefulness. " I have the pleasure often to go without the whitefield's life and times. 389 camp, and to bear a little of his sacred reproach, and I prefer it to all the treasures in the world. Weak as I am, my Jesus makes me more than conqueror through his love. He has brought mighty things to pass here, and gotten himself the vic- tory in many hearts. I trust there is not a day passes but some poor creature or another is plucked as a brand out of the burn- ing. I wish I could hear God was more in the camp." Persecution. " I had once the honour of being publicly ar- raigned, for not reading the Common Prayer in a meeting- house. At another time, I was taken up by a warrant for cor- recting a letter wherein v/ere these words, ' Shall our clergy break the canons?' The prosecutions were unjust; but there is our glory. I remember when Socrates was about to suffer, his friends grieved that he suffered unjustly. What ! says he, would you have me suffer justly ? ' If we are buffetted for our faults, and take it patiently,' says a greater than Socrates, ' we are not to glory ; but if we are reproached for Christ, and suffer as christians, happy are we.' I think our present sufferings are for him." Self-Knowledge. " I know what a dreadful thing it is, to carry much sail without proper ballast, and to rejoice in a false liberty. Joy floating upon the surface of an unmortified heart, is but of short continuance. It puffs up, but doth not edify. I thank our Saviour that he is showing us here more of our hearts, and more of his love." Christ's Library. " Oh that I could lie lower ! then should I rise higher. Could I take deeper root downwards, then should I bear more fruit upwards. I want to be poor in spirit. I want to be meek and lowly in heart. I want to have the whole mind that was in Christ Jesus. Blessed be his name for what he has given me already. Blessed be his name, that out of his fulness I receive grace for grace. Oh that my heart was Christ's library ! I would not have one thief to lodge in my Redeemer's temple. ' Lord, scourge out every thief,' is the daily language of my heart. The Lord will hear my prayer, and let my cry come unto him." Maxim. " When I discover a new corruption, I am as thank- ful as a sentinel keeping watch in a garrison, would be at spying 390 whitefield's life and times. a straggling enemy come near him. I stand not fighting with it myself in my own strength, but run immediately and tell the Captain of my salvation. By the sword of his Spirit, he soon destroys it, and makes me exceeding happy. This is what I call a simple looking to Christ. I know of no other effectual way of keeping the old man down, after he has gotten his deadly blow." Melancthon. " As Luther said to Melancthon, ' Nimis es nullus.'' You are kept in bondage by a false humility. It is good to see ourselves poor, and exceeding vile ; but if that sight and feeling prevent our looking up to, and exerting ourselves for, our dear Saviour; it becomes criminal, and robs the soul of much comfort. I can speak this by dear-bought experience. How often have I been kept from speaking and acting for God, by a sight of my own unworthiness ! but now I see that the more unworthy I am, the more fit to work for Jesus, because he will get much glory in working by such mean instruments ; and the more he has forgiven me, the more I ought to love and serve him. Fired with a sense of his unspeakable loving-kindness, I dare to go out and tell poor sinners that a Lamb was slain for them ; and that he will have mercy on sinners as such, of whom indeed I am chief." Whitefield's Tump. "I preached to about ten thousand on Hampton Common, at what the people now call Whitefield's Tump, because I preached there first. I cannot tell you what a solemn occasion that was. I perceive a great alteration in the people since I was in these parts last. They did indeed hang on me to hear the word. It ran and was glorified." Rams' Horns. " The rams' horns are sounding about Jeri- cho ; surely the towering walls will at length fall down. But we must have patience. He that believeth, doth not make haste. The rams' horns must go round seven times." Jerusalem Sinners. " I purpose once more to attack the prince of darkness in Moorfields, when the holidays come. Many precious souls have been captivated with Christ's love in that wicked place. Jerusalem sinners bring most glory to the Redeemer." Orphan School. " I think I could be sold a slave to serve whitefield's life and times. 391 at the galleys, rather than you and my dear orphan family should want." Old Cole. " I must acquamt you of the following anecdote of the old Mr. Cole, a most venerable dissenting minister, whom I was always taught to ridicule, and (with shame I write it) used, when a hoy, to run into his meeting-house, and cry, Old Cole ! old Cole ! old Cole ! Being asked once by one of his congrega- tion, what business I would be of? I said, ' A minister, but I would take care never to tell stories in the pulpit, like the old Cole.' About twelve years afterwards, the old man heard me preach in one of the churches at Gloucester ; and on my telling some story to illustrate the subject I was upon, having been informed what I had before said, made this remark to one of his elders, ' I find that young Whitefield can now tell stories, as well as old Cole.' Being affected much with my preaching, he was as it were become young again ; and used to say, when coming to and returning from Barn, ' These are days of the Son of man indeed ! ' Nay, he was so animated, and so humbled, that he used to subscribe himself, my curate, and went about preaching after me in the country, from place to place. But one evening, whilst preaching, he was struck with death, and then asked for a chair to lean on till he concluded his sermon, when he was carried up-stairs and died. O blessed God ! if it be thy holy will, may my exit be like his ! " The Tump at Hamp- ton had been Cole's stand before it was called Whitefield's Tump. Party. " Those who think I want to make a party, or to disturb churches, do not know me. I am willing to hunt in the woods after sinners ; and, according to the present temper of my mind, could be content that the name of George Whitefield should die, if thereby the name of my dear Redeemer could be exalted. Indeed, I am amazed that he employs me at all. But what shall we say ? He hateth putting away, therefore I am not consumed. Grace, sovereign, free grace ! shall be all my song." Behind the Curtain. " Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but surely Jesus prays for you, though as it were behind the curtain." 392 whitefield's life and times. The Rod. " 0 happy rod, That brought me nearer to my God. I think I can say, it is good to bear the yoke of affliction in youth. It teaches one to keep silence, and weans us from a too great attachment to all sublunary enjoyments. I have a few strokes of my Father's rod from time to time, as well as you. But I find that his rod as well as his staff do comfort. I am a naughty child, and want much correction; but he that wounds, heals also, and in glory we shall find, that his loving correction hath made us great. O glory ! It is yonder in view ; Jesus stands at the top of the ladder to receive us into it." CoLOxNEL Gardiner. " The noble Colonel Gardiner once wished me ' a thriving soul in a healthy body.' Or however it may be with the one, I earnestly pray that the other may prosper. Sickness is often made use of as a means, in the hands of an all-gracious Father, to ripen our graces and fit us for hea- ven. Through grace, I can say it is good for me to be sick, though I am afraid I am too impatient to be gone. Well ! He that Cometh, will come, and cannot tarry long : till then may I be resigned, and work the works of him that sent me whilst it is day, before the night cometh when no man can work." Resignation. " My schemes are so frequently disconcerted, that I would willingly put a blank into his hands, to be filled up just as he pleases. But this stubborn will would fain avoid swallowing some wholesome bitter-sweets, which the all-gracious Physician reaches out unto me. Nevertheless, through grace, the prevailing language of my heart is, ' Not my will, but thine be done.' " Candour. " Alas ! alas ! in how many things have I judged and acted wrong. — I have been too rash and hasty in giving characters, both of places and persons. Being fond of Scripture language, I have often used a style too apostolical, and at the same time I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wildfire has been mixed with it, and I find that I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assist- ance of the Spirit of God. I have likewise too much made in- ward impressions my rule of acting, and too soon and too ex- whitefield's life and times. 393 plicitly published what had been better kept in longer, or told after my death. By these things I have given some wrong touches to God's ark, and hurt the blessed cause I would defend, and also stirred up needless opposition. This has humbled me much since I have been on board, and made me think of a say- ing of Mr. Henry's, ' Joseph had more honesty than he had policy, or he never would have told his dreams.' At the same time, I cannot but bless, and praise, and magnify that good and gracious God, who filled me with so much of his holy fire, and carried me, a poor, weak youth, through such a torrent both of popularity and contempt, and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless him for ripening my judgment a little more, for giving me to see and confess, and I hope in some de- gree to correct and amend, some of my mistakes." Popularity. " It is too much for one man, to be received as I have been by thousands. The thoughts of it lay me low, but I cannot get low enough. I would willingly sink into nothing before the blessed Jesus, my All in All," Nobility. " Paul preached privately to those that were of reputation. This must be the way I presume of dealing with the nobility, who yet know not the Lord. Oh that I may be enabled, when called to preach to any of them, so to preach as to win their souls to the blessed Jesus." To Dr. Doddridge. " The Moravians first divided my fa- mily, then my parish at Georgia, and after that the societies which, under God, I was an instrument of gathering. I suppose not less than four hundred, through their practices, have left the Tabernacle. But I have been forsaken otherwise. I have not had above a hundred to hear me, where I had twenty thousand ; and hundreds now assemble within a quarter of a mile of me, who never come to see or speak to me, though they must own at the great day that I was their spiritual father. All this I find but little enough to teach me to cease from man, and to wean me from that too great fondness which spiritual fathers are apt to have for their spiritual children. Thus blessed Paul was served ; thus must all expect to be treated who are of Paul's spirit, and are honoured with any considerable degree of Paul's success. But I have generally observed, that when one door of usefulness is shut, another opens." 394 whitefield's life and times. Samuel. " ' Surely ' (says the prophet that was sent to anoint one of Jesse's sons) ' the Lord's anointed is before me.' He guessed several times ; but always guessed wrong, till little David was sent for, who was thought nothing of. And if a pro- phet was mistaken, when thus sent in a peculiar manner, and, no doubt, particularly engaged in prayer for direction, is it any wonder, that we should find ourselves mistaken in many things, even when we have been most earnest with God for guidance and direction ? God often guides us by disappointments." Secrets. " You know me too well to judge I have many secrets. May the secret of the Lord be with me ! and then I care not if there were a window in my heart, for all mankind to see the uprightness of my intentions." Maxim. " Like a pure crystal, I would transmit all the glory God is pleased to pour upon me, and never claim as my own what is his sole property." Angels. " As we advance in the divine life, we shall be more and more conformed to those ministering spirits, who, though waiting on us below, do always behold the face of our heavenly Father above." Luther. " How was Paul humbled and struck down before he was sent forth to preach the everlasting gospel ! Prayer, temptation, and meditation, says Luther, are necessary ingre- dients for a minister. If God teach us humility, it must be as Gideon taught the men of Succoth, by thorns." Blossoms. " I have always found awakening times like spring times ; many blossoms, but not always so much fruit." Popularity. " You judge right, when you say, ' It is your opinion, that I do not want to make a sect, or set myself at the head of a party.' No, let the name of Whitejield die, so that the cause of Jesus Christ may live. I have seen enough of po- pularity to be sick of it, and, did not the interest of my blessed Master require my appearing in public, the world should hear but little of me henceforward. But who can desert such a cause ? Who, for fear of a little contempt and suffering, would decline the service of such a Master ? Oh that the Lord Jesus may thrust out many, many labourers into his harvest ! Surely the time must come, when many of the priests also shall be obedient to the word. I wait for thy salvation, O Lord ! " whitefield's life and times, 395 Compliment. " Luther observed, that ' he was never em- ployed in any new thing, but he was beset with some tempta- tions, or visited with a fit of sickness.' I only wish I could bear it for your Ladyship ; but then your crown would not be so bright, nor the inward purity of your heart so great." Nature. " Nature is a mere Proteus, and till renewed by the Spirit of God, though it may shift its scene, will be only nature still." A PRETTY Character. " I wish the beloved physician was more reconciled to the cross. I am persuaded, let him say what he pleases, that a too great attachment to the world makes him reason as he does in many things. Well, — he is in good hands. He must either come or be dragged to the cross. That pretty character of his must be crucified and slain ; and, as well as others, he must be content (as Mr. Gurnall expresses it) ' to go to heaven in a fool's coat.' " The King. " Lately his Majesty, seeing Lady Chesterfield at court with a grave gown, pleasantly asked her, ' whether Mr. Whitefield advised her to that colour.' Oh that all were clothed in the bright and spotless robe of the Redeemer's righteousness ! How beautiful would they then appear in the sight of the King of kings ! " Self-knowledge, " Oh that I may learn from all I see, to desire to be nothing ; and to think it my highest privilege to be an assistant to all, but the head of none ! I find a love of power sometimes intoxicates even God's own dear children, and makes them to mistake passion for zeal, and an overbearing spirit for an authority given them from above. For my own part, I find it much easier to obey than govern, and that it is much safer to be trodden underfoot, than to have it in one's power to serve others so. This makes me fly from that which, at our first set- ting out, we are too apt to court. Thanks be to the Lord of all lords for taking any pains with ill and hell-deserving me ! I can- not well buy humility at too dear a rate." The Hollow Square. " As long as we are below, if we have not one thing to exercise us, we shall have another. Our trials will not be removed, but only changed. Sometimes troubles come from without, sometimes from within, and sometimes 396 whitefield's life and times. from both together. Sometimes professed enemies, and some- times nearest and dearest friends, are suffered to attack us. But Christ is the believer's Jtollow square; and if we keep close in that, we are impregnable. Here only I find my refuge. Garrisoned in this, I can bid defiance to men and devils. Let who will thwart, desert, or overreach, whilst I am in this strong hold, all their efforts, joined with the prince of darkness, to dis- turb or molest me, are only like the throwing chaff against a brass wall." A GOOD Soldier. " I am called forth to battle ; remember a poor cowardly soldier, and beg the Captain of our salvation, that I may have the honour to die fighting. I would have all my scars in my breast. Methinks, I would not be wounded running away, or skulking into a hiding-place. It is not for ministers of Christ to flee or be afraid. — And yet, alas ! — Well — nil desperandum C/iristo duci." Preachers, " It has long since been my judgment, that it would be best foT many of the present preachers to have a tutor, and retire for a while, and be content with preaching now and then, till they were a little more improved. Otherwise, I fear many who now make a temporary figure, for want of a proper foundation, will run themselves out of breath, will grow weary of the work, and leave it." Heaven. " Oh what amazing mysteries will be unfolded, when each link in the golden chain of providence and grace shall be seen and scanned by beatified spirits in the kingdom of heaven ! Then all will appear symmetry and harmony, and even the most intricate and seemingly most contrary dispensa- tions, will be evidenced to be the result of infinite and consum- mate wisdom, power, and love. Above all, there the believer will see the infinite depths of that mystery of godliness, ' God manifested in the flesh ;' and join with that blessed choir, who, with a restless unweariedness, are ever singing the song of Moses and the Lamb." The Scotch. " Though I preached near eighty times in Ireland, and God was pleased to bless his word, yet Scotland seems to be a new world to me. To see the people bring so many Bibles, turn to every passage when I am expounding, whitefield's life and times. 397 and hang as it were upon me, to hear every word, is very en- couraging." Letters. " I must have aliquid Christi in all my letters." Uprightness. " I am easy, having no scheme, no design of supplanting or resenting, but, I trust, a single eye to promote the common salvation, without so much as attempting to set up a party for myself. This is what my soul abhors. Being thus minded, I have peace ; peace which the world knows nothing of, and which all must necessarily be strangers to, who are fond either of power or numbers. God be praised for the many strip- pings I have met with : it is good for me that I have been sup- planted, despised, censured, maligned, judged by, and separated from, my nearest, dearest friends. By this I have found the faithfulness of him, who is the Friend of friends ; by this I have been taught to wrap myself in the glorious Emmanuel's ever- lasting righteousness, and to be content that He, to whom all hearts are open, and all desires are known, now sees, and will let all see hereafter, the uprightness of my intentions towards all mankind." Unbelief. " Unbelief is the womb of misery, and the grave of comfort. Had we faith but as a grain of mustard seed, how should we trample the world, the flesh, the devil, death, and hell under foot ! Lord, increase our faith ! I know you say. Amen. Even so. Lord Jesus, Amen and Amen ! " Policy. " Worldly wise men, serpent like, so turn and wind, that they have many ways to slip through and creep out at, which simple-hearted, single-eyed souls know nothing of, and if they did, could not follow after them. Honesty is the best policy, and will in the end (whether we seek it or not) get the better of all." Such was the progress of Whitefield's opinions and maxims, during the first teti years of his ministerial life. I need not say, that these samples are not from his sermons. They are all spe- cimens of the spirited hints he was scattering over the world by his letters and conversation. CHAPTER XIX. WHITEFIELD REVISITING. It was a maxim with Whitefield to return back in a few clays, if possible, upon new spots where his first or second sermon had made a visible impression. On the same principle, he often revisited the chief scenes of his early labours ; " confirming the souls of the disciples," and confronting his enemies. In refer- ence to his avowed converts, he cherished much godly jealousy as well as brotherly love. He did not, like one of his friends, pretend to " know when persons are justified." " It is a lesson," he says, " I have not yet learnt. There are so many stony- ground hearers which receive the word with joy, that I have de- termined to suspend my judgment, till I know the tree by its fruits." In like manner, when he reports rndividual cases of sudden arrest under the gospel, it is common for him to say, "I shall wait, until we see how the physic works." Thus whilst he had other reasons which compelled him to travel and revisit much, he was also impelled by solicitude for the stedfastness and consistency of his widely scattered con- verts. He would have looked well to the state of his herds and flocks, (although perhaps not so well,) had he had no orphan- house to sustain, and no college in contemplation. Witness his countless letters ! What are they in general, but the overflow- ing of his pastoral love and watchfulness for and over the souls whom he deemed committed to his charge ? In this spirit he left Ireland to revisit Scotland in 1751, to talk " with the winter as well as with the summer saints." He landed at Irvine, where he preached before the magistrates, at their own request. Next day the whole city of Glasgow was whitefield's life and times. 399 moved at his coming. " Thousands attend every morning and evening. They seem never to be weary. I am followed more than ever. Scotland seems (still) to be a neiv world to me. To see the people bring so many Bibles, and turn to every passage as I am expounding, and hang upon me to hear every word, is very encouraging." He abruptly breaks off this letter to the Countess by saying, " I could enlarge, but am straitened. Some ministers wait for me." These were Mac Laiirin, Scott, Mac Culloch, &c. who delighted to visit him at his friend Niven^s, near the Cross, after the labours of the day. Mac Laurin was both the guardian and champion of his reputation, in public and private ; and therefore gave Whitefield no rest, nor himself either, until he cleared up all flying reports. He would get at the facts of the case, even if he tried his friend's patience. Whitefield often smiled at the Scotch scrutiny of this great and good man. It left no stone unturned, when there was a calumny to overturn, or a mistake to rectify. It was not, however, for this purpose chiefly that these good men sought his company. They admired and enjoyed his con- versational talents. These were sprightly, and could be hu- moursome ; and as he thought aloud, and had seen much of real life, his company was equally instructive and enlivening, espe- cially over his liffht supper. He then unbent the bow of his spirit, until it cooled from the friction of the burning arrows he shot during the day. A seat at Niven's table was then an honour, as well as a privilege. Gillies says truly, " One might challenge the sons of pleasure, with all their wit, good humour, and gaiety, to furnish entertainment so agreeable. At the same time every part of it was not more agreeable than it was useful and edifying." He was much pleased to find, while at Glasgow, that Din- widdle, the brother-in-law of Mac Culloch of Cambuslang, had been appointed governor of Virginia. This had an important bearing on the work Whitefield began there. He himself states it thus. " In that province, there has been for some years past a great awakening, especially in Hanover county, and the coun- ties adjacent. As the ministers of the establishment did not favour the work, and the first awakened persons put themselves 400 whitefield's life and times. under the care of the New York synod, the poor people were from time to time fined, and very much harassed, for not at- tending on the church service : and as the awakening was sup- posed to be begun by the reading of my books, at the instiga- tion of the council a proclamation was issued out to prohibit itinerant preaching. However, before I left Virginia, one Mr. Davies (afterwards President) was licensed, and settled over a congregation. Since that the awakening has increased, so that Mr. D writes, " that one congregation is multiplied to seven," He desires liberty to license more houses, and to preach occasionally to all, as there is no minister but himself. This, though allowed of in England, is denied in Virginia, v/hich grieves the people very much. The commissary is one of the council, and with the rest of his brethren, I believe no friend to the dissenters. The late lieutenant-governor was like-minded. I therefore think that Mr. D is raised up to succeed him, in order to befriend the church of God, and the interest of Christ's people. They desire no other privileges than what dis- senting protestants enjoy in our native country. This I am persuaded your brother-in-law will be glad to secure them." On revisiting Edinburgh, the only thing he did deplore was, that Mr. Wesley intended to " set up societies " in Scotland, upon his own plan. This he thought " imprudent ;" and he said so. He had before warned Wesley, that the Scotch did not want him -, that neither his sentiments nor his system would suit the north, even if he preached " like an angel." Wesley would not believe this, and tried both ; but the experiment, for him, was a complete failure. And it deserved to be so, so far as he conducted it ; for he libelled and caricatured the people. True ; they heard him coldly : not more so, however, than his own people at the Foundery would have listened to one of the Cambuslang Calvinists. Besides, his very resolution to avoid all controversial points, was, however well meant, unwise, in a country where he was so well known to be an Arminian. It created suspicion, if not disgust, when they found that he kept back his notorious peculiarities. The people would have listen- ed to them, and disputed them one by one with him, and counted him a "pawky chieV had he come off with the best of the argu- whitefield's life and times. 401 ment. But he was silent, and they suspected him of blinking the questions at issue between them. This is the real secret of Wesley's failure. His very candour seemed artifice to the Scotch. So far, they misunderstood him, and thus did him injustice. He also misunderstood and misrepresented them. They were not " unfeeling multitudes," because he could not move them. The same multitudes had wept and rejoiced under Whitefield's preaching. He could bring them out on week days, as well as on sabbath, although Wesley found his congregation "miserably small," and said it verified what he had often heard, " that the Scotch dearly love the word of the Lord on the Lord's day." For, what did Whitefield's week-day congregations verify ? At this time, as well as formerly, he had to say, " I now preach twice daily to many thousands. Many of the best rank attend. O Edinburgh, Edinburgh, surely thou wilt never be forgotten by me ! The longer I stay, the more eagerly both rich and poor attend on the word preached. Perhaps, for near twenty- eight days together, in Glasgow and Edinburgh, I preached to near 10,000 saints every day." In like manner, when he took his leave at Glasgow, " numbers set out from the country, by two or three o'clock in the morning." Whitefield left Scotland in the autumn, to revisit Georgia ; becoming again, as he calls himself, " z^jloating pilgrim.^'' In- deed, he was fit for nothing but floating at the time. He had been much reduced at Edinburgh by vomitings of blood ; and though his journey to London recruited him somewhat, he went on board the Antelope very weak. His voyage was, however, short and easy ; and he arrived at Georgia in good health. His spirit also was much cheered by the flourishing condition of the orphan-house, and the flattering prospect of a college, now made plausible by the grant of a tract of excellent land. But whilst enjoying all this, he heard of the death of Dr. Doddridge at Lisbon, and started off" to his old work with new diligence. He says, " Dr. Doddridge I find is gone. Lord Jesus, prepare me to follow after ! I intend to hegin ; for as yet I have done no- thing. Oh that I may begin in earnest. It is a new year. God quicken my tardy pace, and help me to do much work in a little 2 D 402 whitefield's life and times. time. This is my highest ambition." Under this impulse he revisited South Carolina. He durst not, however, risk the heat of the summer in America, and therefore he returned to England in the spring. Whilst resting for a little in London, he revised some of Hervey's manuscripts. This he called, on his own part, " hold- ing up a candle to the sun." With his usual tact, however, he foretold their fate. " Nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a man- ner, without showing some resentment against its artful mur- derer," But reviewing did not suit him : he rose up from his desk, exclaiming, " Oh that I could fly from pole to pole, pub- lishing the everlasting gospel ! " Even the transfer of Georgia from trustees into the hands of government, at this time, and all the prospects which the change opened for the colony, could not detain him in London. He was invited to revisit Ireland ; but as it was for the pur- pose of organizing the Calvinistic methodists, he refused. " I hate to head a party. It is absolutely inconsistent with my other business to take upon me the care of societies in various parts." He, therefore, revisited Bristol, where he preached nine times in four clays, to congregations almost equal in num- bers to his Moorfields audiences. " Old times revived again. Much good was done. The last evening it rained a little, but none moved. I was wet, and contracted a cold and hoarseness ; but I trust preaching will cure me again." It did. In the course of the next fortnight, he preached twenty times, and tra- velled three hundred miles on horseback, in Wales. He also attended an association, at which nine clergymen, and nearly forty other labourers, were present. His interview with these brethren was inspiring as well as refreshing to him. " All was harmony and love." He left them, more resolved than ever, to " expose the wine and milk of the gospel to sale," and to ex- postulate with sinners to " come down to the price, and be willing to be saved by grace." On his return to London he wrote, amongst many other let- ters, one to Dr. Franklin. Franklin, as well as Hume, admired him ; and for much the same reason, — his genius and power as WHITKFIELD S LIFE AND TIMES. 403 an orator. They cared about equally little for the grand Truth which fired his eloquence, and made him wise to win souls. It is painful to state this, but it is only too true. Franklin was, indeed, friendly to the moral and philanthropic tendency of Whitefield's doctrine, and had abandoned the rabid infidelity of Shaftesbury and Collins : but still, all the Christianity he put into his own epitaph, was only the hope of a resurrection ; and all he put into his confession, a few weeks before his death, in answer to President Stiles, was, that he had doubts as to the divinity of Jesus of Nazareth, and thought his system of reli- gion, although the best, not free from " various corrupting changes." In this opinion, he claimed kindred with most of the dissenters in England ! To the credit of Dr. Priestley, he contradicted Franklin, and set the Americans right on this point. Whitefield tried to set Franklin right upon a more important point ; that divine change of heart, without which no man can enter heaven, " I find," he says, " that you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of electricity, I would now humbly recommend to your diligent, unprejudiced pursuit and study, the mystery of the new birth. It is a most impor- tant and interesting study, and when mastered will richly an- swer and repay you for all your pains. One at whose bar we are shortly to appear, hath solemnly declared that without it we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. You will excuse this freedom. I must have aliquld Christi in all my letters. I am yet a willing pilgrim for his great name's sake." This honest letter ought to have delighted the philosopher in his closet, even more than the eulogium he heard whilst standing behind the bar of the House of Lords, when Chatham said of him, " Frank- lin is one whom Europe holds in high estimation, for his know- ledge and wisdom ; one who is an honour, not to the English nation only, but to human nature." The American Biographical Dictionary has done all it honestly could, to rescue the memory of this great patriot from the charge of being " friendly to infidelity." It quotes an in- stance in which he rebuked a youth, who was treating religion 2 D 2 404 whitefield's life and times. as a vulgar prejudice, and who had appealed to him for coun- tenance. Franklin said emphatically, " Young man, it is best to believe." Hume once said to La Roche, " Oh that J. had never doubted." Such expressions prove nothing, but the sus- picions of the sceptical. Besides, there could have been no re- ligious tone about Franklin, if a raw witling could thus have dared to appeal to him against religion. The most ingenious vindication of him I have ever seen, is in the sketch of his history in the American National Portrait Gallery : — " With such a life as Franklin led, we should, per- haps, offer an injury to religion, in supposing him, as some have done, an enemy to its prevalence, or a stranger to its benign in- fluence." This is plausible, but hollow. His life in Paris will not sustain the argument. True ; he said there, that his suc- cess as a negociator would have convinced him of the being and government of a Deity, had he ever before been an atheist. Equally true it is, however, that, as a philosopher, he was often the companion of both atheists and infidels. Besides, what was he upon his death-bed ? The best said of him then is, " that he was afraid he did not bear his pains as he ought," and was grateful for the many blessings he had received from the Su- preme Being, who had raised him from " a humble origin to such consideration among men.^^ In a word, he was not so unchris- tian in his creed as unitarians : he only doubted, what they deny, the divinity of the Saviour. Franklin died in 1790. Whitefield's letter to him was in 1752. Their acquaintanceship seems to have commenced when the claims of the orphan-house were first pleaded in Philadel- phia. Then Franklin, although he approved of the object, re- fused to contribute to it, when applied to in private, because he disapproved of the situation. He went to hear Whitefield, therefore, resolved to give nothing. He had, however, in his pocket, a handful of copper, three or four dollars, and five pis- toles in gold. As the sermon began to kindle, Franklin began to soften, and was willing to give the copper. The next stroke won the silver ; and the finishing stroke was so admirable, he says, " that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish — gold and all." This is a good story ; but he tells a still bet- whitefield's life and times. 405 ter one of his friend Hopkinson. He had gone empty-handed^ that he might be sure to give nothing. But he was melted too, and tried to borrow money of a quaker. The quaker's answer was, " At any other time, friend, I would lend thee freely : but not now ; for thee seems to me to be out of thy right senses." This is unlike a quaker ! And it was unlike a christian, for Franklin to say, " The request -w^is fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company, who had thejirmness not to be affected by the preacher." It is no pleasure to me to write thus. Franklin was White- field's friend, and the friend of liberty and humanity ; but his half-homage to Christianity should be rejected by her friends. She needs not the compliments of almost christians. Indeed, they only tend to prevent inquirers from becoming altogether like Paul. It is all very well, when infidelity is to be put down, to appeal to the great cloud of scientific, philosophical, and poet- ical witnesses, who have complimented Revelation ; but when Christianity is to be enforced, it is worse than useless to appeal to great names who only believed the half of it. What minister would tell young men, that they might safely stop at the points where such doubters as Franklin stood still ? Not any " able minister of the New Testament." Let Unitarianism take (and welcome !) all the philosophers and poets she can prove to have been Arians. With what satisfaction the mind turns from such men, to fol- low Whitefield to Lutterworth, where he was drawn by the magnetic memory of Wycliffe, on his way from London to visit Scotland again ! There, a protestant is at home. The interest of this hallowed spot was, if possible, enhanced to Whitefield — at least he was prepared to enjoy it — by meeting on the way to it one of Doddridge's students, who had been converted at Olney, four years before, from a " bitter scoffer," to be a young evangelist. He felt this to be a call to " go forward " in his work. He did ; and preached " twice in the famous Wycliffe's parish " with such effect, that, before he reached Scotland, he received a letter, informing him that he had won souls in the reformer's parish. How enviable his associations with Lutter- worth ! My own were sadly disturbed, when I passed through 406 whitefield's life and times it. I had watched the morning-star from the window of the mail, as it lingered and smiled over the tower of the church ; and had pleased myself all night long with the hope of being able to "drink of the brook" into which Wycliffe's ashes were thrown. The guard, however, would not allow me to run down the hill, whilst the horses were changing. I was more than mortified; but he was inexorable. When, lo, he discovered that one of the fresh horses wanted a shoe ; and there was no other horse in the stable. " Call the blacksmith," he cried in thunder. Off I ran that moment, down the hill, rejoicing in the accident. I leaped the hedge, and reached the brook. Alas, it was covered with yeasty scum from the dye-houses, or manu- factories, upon its banks. I could not drink ! It was then only three o'clock in the morning. I tasted the water, however, by laving up a handful where the slime was least offensive. My reader will pardon this digression, when he remembers old Ful- ler's climax. This brook conveyed the ashes of WyclifFe into the Avon ; the Avon into the Severn ; and the Severn into the main sea ; and thus the reformer's ashes became emblems of his doctrine, which shall spread from the rivers to the ends of the earth. Whitefield's associations were less sublime at Leicester. He had turnips thrown at him, whilst preaching his first sermon. At his second, however, " all was hushed," and he " heard afterwards that good was done." Then he revisited Newcas- tle ; and there he was, " as it were, arrested to stay." Accord- ingly, he preached four times, and " a whole shower of blessings descended from heaven on the great congregation." This led to a second arrest, and the shower was repeated. I use his own strong language concerning Leicester and Newcastle, because he afterwards told Lady Huntingdon that he had received " brave news " from both places. These arrests by the way, made him due in Scotland. His invitations to revisit Edinburgh and Glasgow, had been very strong ; and he was nothing loth to comply. " I love state too well, especially in Scotland, not to take it upon me as often as possible," by mounting "my despised throne." There is truth as well as playfulness in this confession. Whitefield did love a whitefield's life and times. 407 little state now and then ; — who does not ? Edinburgh was his throne, and coronets graced it. None of these things, however, estranged or diverted him from humbler spheres, or lessened his interest in " men of low estate." Accordingly, his letters to the Countess at this time, whilst they report briefly the " abundance of the better sort," who came out to hear him twice a day, in common with the multitude, dwell chiefly upon the case of a poor highland schoolmaster, who had been very useful amongst the young Gaels ; and upon the claims of a poor student, who had not the means of finishing his ministerial edu- cation. In none of his letters at this time, is there -any refer- ence to the personal honours paid to him, although they were neither few nor small. What he mentions with most compla- cency, is, an account he had received of " a dozen young men, that were awakened" under his ministry, "ten years ago," and who were now useful preachers. This was emphatically good news to Whitefield; for although he was not far-sighted, he saw clearly all the bearings of his own favourite maxim, that " every student's name is legion. ;" " catching him is catching thousands ; helping him, helping many." This maxim (in a better form) deserves the consideration and adoption of both ministers and wealthy christians. Who can calculate how many souls have been won, or what trains of good have been set in perpetual motion, by the young men, Avhom the Thorntons, and especially the Simeons and Wilsons, of England, the Haldanes of Scotland, and the Bethunes of America, took by the hand, and sustained at college ? The re- Jlection of that good is already bright upon " the sea of glass before the throne," and it will increase in space and splendour there until the end of time, and then " shine as the stars for ever and ever." Go thou, and do likewise ! Or if unable to bear the entire expense of a student, unite some of your friends with you. In like manner, each of the voluntary churches in large towns shovild sustain a young evangelist. I have tried the experiment, and my little flock have always come to my help. To the poor student who applied to him for advice. White- field wrote, "God willing, I shall not be unmindful of you." 40S whitefield's life and times. Like myself, he had neither silver nor gold enough of his own ; but he hadfriends, and he pleaded the case with them. He seems also, whilst in Edinburgh, at this time, to have aimed much to catch students ; many of whom from the classes, as well as from the divinity hall, came daily to hear him. This was the case at Glasgow, when he revisited it. There, indeed, his audiences were even greater than at Edinburgh. An event had occurred at the General Assembly this year, which called forth Whitefield's characteristic vein of humour. The assembly had deposed Gillespie, the founder of the Relief Presbytery. " I wish Mr. Gillespie joy," he said : " the pope is turned preshi/ferian. How blind is Satan ! What does he get by casting out Christ's servants ? I expect great good will come out of these confusions. Mr. Gillespie will do more good in a week now, than before in a year." Whitefield's jokes are not two-edged swords, which cut both ways at once : but if his sarcasm against the Secession cut deep, this one against the Kirk cut deeper. The Babel story, and the Babylon story, therefore, if told at all again, should be told together, in justice to Whitefield's impartiality. Both, however, had better be dropped, when the Assembly and the Synod contend at all. On leaving Scotland, Whitefield revisited several of his old stations in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, in a state of mind so heavenly and absorbed, that he scarcely knew at times, he says, "whether he had been in heaven or on earth." During three weeks of such preaching, he " never had more encourage- ment, since the Lord of the harvest sent him out. A gale of divine influence every where attended it," This does not rest on his own testimony only. His Leeds friends brought him back from Sheffield again, " to make hay while the sun shone," It was now November : but the weather was " uncommonly favourable ;" and, therefore, he thought it " a pity to go into winter quarters, whilst work could be done in the fields." He was, however, driven in soon by rain and sickness. He expect- ed death in the coach, between Northampton and London. When he reached home, he found his wife had almost as much need of a nurse as himself. Next day, however, he set himself to reconsider the claims of Ireland, and again refused to go over whitefield's life and times. 409 to head a party. In a few days, also, he resumed his corre- spondence with Hervey; and in a week, he was absorbed with the affairs of Georgia ; writing now a short letter to a manager of the orphan-house, and anon a long one to " dear Nat." one of the orphans. By December, he was " longing to range York- shire again, and to revisit Leeds." Night nor day, he could not forget the scenes he witnessed there, although he was now hear- ing " every day of fresh awakenings " in the Tabernacle. At this time, Charles Wesley consulted him on a delicate subject — separation from John; some of whose measures he could not fall in with. His letter I have never seen. It em- barrassed Whitefield. He knew not what to say. Something, however, rendered it necessary for him to say, that he thought John " still jealous " of him and his proceedings. But lest this should injure John with Charles, he said also, " The connexion between you and your brother hath been so close, — and your attachment to him so necessary to keep up his interest, — that I would not willingly, for the world, do or say any thing that may separate such friends. I have seen an end of all perfection! More might be said were we face to face." Wesley was some- what jealous of Whitefield at this time. A new Tabernacle was now on the carpet ; and for a long time the nobility had smiled on Whitefield. Wesley felt this. He could have taken their smiles more coolly than Whitefield ; but he could not sustain their neglect philosophically. It was, however, the contrast, not the loss, that mortified him. When Whitefield agreed to the plan of a new Tabernacle, he resolved, he says, "on the principle that burnt children dread the fire, not to begin till he had £1000 in hand, and then to contract at a certain sum for the whole." His fingers had been burnt at Bethesda ; and he told his friends so. They took the hint, and soon raised upwards of £900 ; and by the time the foundation-stone was laid, the contributions amount- ed to £1100. Whitefield himself laid the stone, 1st March, 1753, on the old spot, and preached from Exod. xx. 24. To the credit of the Wesleys, his kind but honest letter to Charles not only prevented their rupture, but also led to a loan of their Spitalfields' chapel, when the old Tabernacle was pulled 410 whitefield's life and times. down. Whitefield returned this compliment, by remonstrating with one of his preachers against giving offence or creating jealousies amongst the friends of Wesley. When the time of the year came, that he could sing, " Lo, the winter is past," he quitted winter quarters. " The time of the singing of birds and the voice of the turtle in the land," called forth his voice too. He revisited Norwich for a few days in April. He says, that he " triumphed there in spite of all oppo- sition." What the opposition was I do not know. One part of the triumph Whitefield did not know on earth. The late Ful- ler of Kettering was wont to tell the following anecdote, which he had from the lips of the person. A young man who had gone out in the morning on a frolic, with a party of his companions, would have his fortune told by a gipsy they met. She predict- ed for him a good old age, and lots of children and grandchil- dren. He believed the prophecy, and resolved to store his mind with such knowledge as would make young folks like an old man. " Let me see," he said, " what I can acquire first ? O, here is the famous methodist preacher, Whitefield ; he is to preach to-night, they say ; I will go and hear him." From these strange motives, he really went to hear. The sermon was on John's appeal to the Sadducees and Pharisees, to " flee from the wrath to come." "Whitefield," said he, "described the Saddu- cean character: but that did not touch me. Then the P7