li. 1) his words seemed to cut like a sword, and several in

the congregation burst out into the most piercing bitter cries. Mr. Whitefield, at this juncture, made a pause, and then burst into a flood of tears. During this short interval, Mr. Madan and myself stood up, and requested the people to restrain themselves, as much as possible, from making any noise. Twice afterwards, we had to repeat the same counsel. O with what eloquence, energy, and melting tenderness, did Mr. Whitefield beseech sinners to be reconciled to God! When the sermon was ended, the people seemed chained to the ground. Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, Mr. Downing, and myself found ample employment in endeavouring to comfort those broken down under a sense of guilt. We separated in different directions among the crowd, and each was quickly surrounded by an attentive audience, still eager to hear all the words of this life.

“The next day, a like scene was witnessed, when dear Mr. Whitefield preached to a prodigious congregation from Isaiah lv. 6. In the evening, Mr. Talbot preached at Lord Dartmouth’s, to as many as the rooms would hold. Hundreds crowded round his lordship’s residence, anxiously expecting Mr. Whitefield to preach. Exhausted as he was from his exertions in the morning, when he heard that there were multitudes without, he stood upon a table near the front of the house, and ♦proclaimed the efficacy of the Saviour’s blood to cleanse the vilest of the vile.

“Intelligence of the extraordinary power attending the word soon spread, and the next day we had Mr. Charles Wesley and many friends from Bristol, Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Rodborough, and the villages in the neighbourhood; but all loud weeping and piercing cries had subsided, and the work of conversion went on in a more silent manner. For several days, we have had public preaching, which has been well attended, and much solid good has been done.

“Mr. Whitefield and myself purpose leaving this for London the day after to-morrow; and Mr. Madan and Mr. Talbot go in a few days to Northamptonshire.”[440]

This was a glorious “mission week,” in Cheltenham churchyard, a hundred and twenty-nine years ago. It is rather remarkable that Whitefield himself has left no account of it; but, shortly after, he wrote, as follows, to Mr. Madan, pursuing his “mission” work in Northamptonshire.

“LONDON, _November 3, 1757_.

“Your kind letter was very acceptable. Ere now, I trust, the Redeemer has given you the prospect of the barren wilderness being turned into a fruitful field. Never fear. Jesus will delight to honour you. Every clergyman’s name is Legion. Two more are lately ordained.[441] The kingdom of God suffereth violence, and, if we would take it by force, we must do violence to our softest passions, and be content to be esteemed unkind by those whose idols we once were. This is hard work; but, Abba, Father, all things are possible with Thee!

“Blessed be God! for putting it into your heart to ask my pulpit for a week-day sermon. Are we not commanded to be instant in season and out of season? If dear Mrs. Madan will take my word for it, I will be answerable for your health. The joy resulting from doing good will be a continual feast. God knows how long our time of working may last. This order undoes us. As affairs now stand, we must be disorderly, or useless. O for more labourers!

“I am told thousands went away last Sunday evening from Tottenham Court, for want of room. Every day produces fresh accounts of good being done. At this end of the town, the word runs, and is glorified more and more. Last Friday, we had a most solemn fast. I preached thrice. Thousands attended; and, I humbly hope, our prayers entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. More bad news from America about our fleet. God humble and reform us! Go on, my dear sir, and tell a sinful nation, that sin and unbelief are the accursed things which prevent success. Thus, at last, we shall deliver our souls, and be free from the blood of all men.

“That you may return to London in all the fulness of the blessings of the gospel of Christ, is and shall be the prayer of, dear sir,

“Yours, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

While Whitefield was acquiring new friends, he was losing old ones. Jonathan Belcher, governor of the province of New Jersey, died on August 31, 1757; and Aaron Burr, President of New Jersey College, within a month afterwards. “The deaths of Governor Belcher, and President Burr,” wrote Whitefield, “are dark providences; but Jesus lives and reigns. Lord, raise up Elishas in the room of ascended Elijahs!”[442]

Whitefield’s correspondence was enormous. As a rule, no letters have been introduced in the present work, except such as contained facts and statements illustrative of his work and history. Mere _friendly_ letters, though existing in great numbers, have been excluded. As a specimen of hundreds of others, which might have been inserted, the following, hitherto unpublished, may be welcome. They relate to the marriage of the grandfather and grandmother of James Rooker, Esq., solicitor, at Bideford, by whom they have been courteously lent:――

“LONDON, _November 15, 1757_.

“DEAR MISS MOLLY,――Though weak in body, yet, as perhaps it may be the last time I may write to you in your present position, be pleased to accept a few valedictory lines.

“I think you may cheerfully say, ‘I will go with the man.’ Providence seems to have directed you to one who, I trust, will love you as Christ loves the Church. My poor prayers will always follow you. That you may be a mother in Israel, and, in every respect, be enabled to walk as becometh the wife of a true minister of Jesus Christ, is, and shall be, the ardent desire of, dear Miss Molly, your affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“To Miss Molly Shepherd.”

“LONDON, _January 17, 1758_. “_Seven in the morning._

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――I wish you joy, from my inmost soul, of being married to one of the best-women, and of being admitted into one of the best families in England. I never had the least doubt of your affair being of God. You have called Jesus and His disciples to the marriage; and your letter sent me to my knees with tears of joy and strong cryings that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus may bless you both. You need not ask, my dear sir, the continuance of my friendship. I value you as a dear minister of Christ, and as the husband of one who was presented by her honoured father at the table of the Lord. I doubt not of her being a help-meet for you,――a mother in Israel. May you, like Zachary and Elizabeth, be enabled to walk in all the ordinances and commandments of the Lord blameless! I am glad the dear little female flock at Bideford will have such an agreeable addition to their society. That grace, mercy, and peace may be multiplied on them and you, is, and shall be, the hearty prayer of, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate friend and ready servant in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“My wife joins in cordial respects. “To the Rev. Mr. Lavington.”

Scores of such letters might be introduced,――the spontaneous effusions of a warm-hearted Christian friendship.

Whitefield’s incessant and arduous labours began to affect his health. Hence the following extracts from his correspondence:――

“London, November 26, 1757. Last week, my poor feeble labours almost brought me to the grave; but preaching three times, yesterday, on account of the late success of the Prussians, has somewhat recovered me. It was a high day: thousands and thousands attended.”

“London, December 14, 1757. By New Year’s Day, I hope, we shall be able to discharge our Tottenham Court chapel debts. Every day proves more and more that it was built for the glory of Christ, and the welfare of many precious and immortal souls. But my attendance on that, and the Tabernacle too, with a weak body, outward cares, and inward trials, has, of late, frequently brought me near to my wished-for port. I am brought to the short allowance of preaching but once a day, and thrice on a Sunday.

“Round the Tottenham Court chapel there is a most beautiful piece of ground, and some good folks have purposed erecting almshouses on each side, for godly widows. I have a plan for twelve. The whole expense will be £400. We have got £100. The widows are to have half a crown a week. The sacrament money, which will be more than enough, is to be devoted to this purpose. Thus will many widows be provided for, and a standing monument be left, that the Methodists were not against good works.”

Thus did Whitefield end the year 1757 in caring for widows, as, for the last twenty years, he had cared for orphans.

He began the new year, 1758, with a devout outburst of patriotic gratitude. As already stated, Frederick, King of Prussia, had recently won a most important battle; and Whitefield wished to recognize the hand of God in the defeat of his country’s enemies. “Monday, January 2,” says the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1758, p. 41, “was observed as a day of thanksgiving, at the chapel in Tottenham Court Road, by Mr. Whitefield’s people, for the signal victories gained by the King of Prussia over his enemies.”

It was a trial to Whitefield to be obliged to preach but once a day on week-days, and thrice on Sundays; but, as usual, he was thankful and jubilant. The debt on the chapel in Tottenham Court Road was paid; his friend Martin Madan had become a son of thunder; numbers of sinners were being saved; and the political horizon was growing brighter. The following are extracts from his letters:――

“London, January 12, 1758. A more effectual door than ever seems to be opening in this metropolis. A counsellor, lately ordained, turns out a Boanerges. Thousands and thousands flock to hear the everlasting gospel. Let us wrestle in prayer for each other.”

“London, January 17, 1758. What can reconcile us to stay longer on earth, but the prospect of seeing the kingdom of the Lord Jesus advanced? It is very promising in London. Mr. Madan is a Boanerges. The chapel is made a Bethel. Blessed be God! all the debt is paid.”

The godly and benevolent John Thornton, Esq., was now a young man rising rapidly into notice. In his house, at Clapham, Whitefield frequently expounded to large assemblies.[443] To Miss Gideon,[444] the friend and correspondent of Venn, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“London, February 3, 1758. I am reduced to the short allowance of preaching once a day, except thrice on a Sunday. At both ends of the town, the word runs and is glorified. The champions in the Church go on like sons of thunder. I am to be at Clapham this evening. Mr. Venn will gladly embrace the first opportunity. Bristol, in all probability, will be my first spring excursion.”

In another letter, of the same date, he wrote:――

“The plan concerted some time ago is likely to be put into execution. The trenches for the wall are begun; and, by the 1st of May, the almshouses are to be finished. If possible, I would furnish them, that the poor might be sure of goods, as well as a house. The thing has scarce, as yet, taken wind. By thoughtfulness, frequent preaching, and a crazy tabernacle, my nightly rests are continually broken; but the joy of the Lord is my strength. I hope ere long to be where I shall keep awake for ever.”

The next letter, addressed to Professor Francke, of Germany, though containing but little additional information, is too interesting to be omitted.

“LONDON, _March 5, 1758_.

“MOST REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――Through grace, the fields are as ready to harvest as ever. In the summer, I range; and, with a table for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding-board, I am enabled, generally thrice a day, to call to many thousands to come to Jesus that they may have life. In the winter, I am confined to London; but, to my great mortification, through continual vomitings, want of rest, and of appetite, I have been reduced, for some time, to the short allowance of preaching only once a day, except Sundays, when I generally preach thrice. Thousands attend every evening, at both ends of the town; and, on Sundays, many, many go away for want of room. The Divine presence is amongst us, and every week produces fresh instances of the power of converting grace.

“Blessed be God! we meet with no disturbances in town, and very seldom in the country; but last year, while I was preaching in the fields in Ireland, a popish mob was so incensed at my proclaiming the Lord our Righteousness, and at my praying for our good old King, and the King of Prussia, that they surrounded, stoned, and almost killed me. But we are immortal till our work is done. Glad should I have been to have died in such a cause.

“Mr. Wesley has Societies in Ireland and elsewhere; and, though we differ a little in some principles, yet brotherly love continues. When itinerating, I generally preach among his people, as freely as among those who are called our own.

“In London, several new flaming preachers are come forth; and we hear of others, in various parts of the kingdom, who seem determined to know and preach nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.

“Thousands and thousands are now praying daily for success to the Prussian and Hanoverian arms. Your fast-days were kept here with great solemnity; and will be so again, God willing, when I know the day. Our Joshuas are in the field. Many a Moses is gone up into the mount to pray. ‘_Nil desperandum Christo duce, auspice Christo._’ He who wrought such wonders for the Prussian monarch last year, can repeat them this. The distresses of German Protestants, we look upon as our own. We have also endeavoured to give thanks for the great mercy vouchsafed your Orphan House, and the Protestant cause.”

In the third week of the month of May, Whitefield left his “_winter_ quarters,” and set out for the west of England, and for Wales. He began his journey in a one-horse chaise; but driving prevented his reading, and the vehicle nearly shook him to pieces.[445] His servant, also, “who rode the fore-horse, was often exceedingly splashed with dirt, when the roads were bad.” For such reasons, Whitefield wished to exchange his humble conveyance for a more convenient one. He arrived at Gloucester, on Saturday, May 20; and, on the following day, preached thrice and administered the holy sacrament. On Tuesday, May 23, he came to Bristol, and, for the next five days, preached twice daily, either at Bristol, Bath, or Kingswood. His chaise still troubled him, and he longed for “a good four-wheel carriage for £30 or £40.” “I would not,” says he, “lay out a single farthing, but for my blessed Master.” On Monday, May 29, in the best way he could, he started for Wales. On his return to Bristol, he wrote a series of letters to a number of his aristocratic friends. The following are extracts:――

To the Countess Delitz:――

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. Never was I brought so low as on my late circuit in Wales; but, as far as I can hear, it was one of the most prosperous I ever took. Twice every day, thousands and thousands attended, in various towns in South Wales; and, on the Sundays, the numbers were incredible. Welcome, thrice welcome, death in such a cause!”

To Captain H――――y:――

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. The Welsh roads have almost demolished my open one-horse chaise, as well as me. I am almost ashamed of your being put to so much trouble, in procuring a close chaise for me; but I like the purchase exceeding well. The legacy is wonderful. I can give it away with a good grace. At present, I think the Orphan House shall have the whole. It is much wanted there.”

To Lady Huntingdon:――

“Bristol, June 17, 1758. This leaves me returned from Wales. It proved a most delightful trying circuit. I suppose your ladyship has heard how low I have been in body,――scarce ever lower,――not able to sit up in company all the time, yet strengthened to travel without food, and to preach to thousands every day. The great congregation at Haverfordwest consisted of near fifteen thousand. O for some disinterested soul to help at the chapel during the summer season! Spiritual, divine ambition, whither art thou fled? But I see such honours are reserved for few. I rejoice in the increase of your ladyship’s spiritual routs; and can guess at the consolations such uncommon scenes must afford you.”

The “spiritual routs,” here mentioned, were meetings held twice a week, in the house of the Countess of Huntingdon, and at which Romaine, Madan, and Venn officiated. They were remarkable gatherings, and included, among others, the Duchess of Bedford, the Duchess of Grafton, Lady Jane Scott, Lord and Lady Dacre, Mr. and Lady Anne Connolly, Lady Elizabeth Keppell, Lady Betty Waldegrave, Lady Coventry, Lord Weymouth, Lord Tavistock, the Duchess of Hamilton, the Duchess of Richmond, Lady Ailesbury, Lord and Lady Hertford, Lady Townsend, Lord Trafford, Lord Northampton, Lady Hervey, Lady Pembroke, Lady Northumberland, Lady Rebecca Paulet, Lord Edgecumbe, Lord Lyttleton, Lady Essex, etc., etc.[446] It is impossible to estimate the far-reaching results of meetings like these. A current of Christian influence was created, which affected a large portion of the aristocracy of the land, and, through them, a countless number of other people.

Whitefield bewails the want of men to preach in his Tottenham Court Road chapel. At this very time, he was corresponding with a young man, twenty-three years of age, Robert Robinson, afterwards the famous Dissenting minister at Cambridge. Robinson had recently left London, and gone to Norwich. Here, on May 10, 1758, he wrote Whitefield a long letter, telling him that, six years ago, curiosity drew him to the Tabernacle, to pity Whitefield’s folly, and to abhor the doctrines he preached. Whitefield took for his text, “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Robinson says, he “went pitying the poor deluded Methodists; but came away envying their happiness.” He constantly attended the Tabernacle for two years and seven months before he found peace with God. He had now begun to preach, and writes:――

“How often do I tremble lest I should run before I am sent; yet I dare not say the Lord has left me without witness. Multitudes of people come to hear the word, both in Norwich and the country.”[447]

Whitefield replied to Robinson’s letter as follows:――

“BRISTOL, _May 25, 1758_.

“Why did you not make your case known to me before you left London? What motives induced you to leave it? How came you to go to Norwich? What prospect have you of a growing people? You may send a line to London, and it will be forwarded to me in the country. I have now opened my summer’s campaign. The Redeemer has given us a good beginning. Who knows but we shall have a glorious ending? He is all in all. You find that He strengthens and blesses you in His work, and causes your rod to bud and blossom. That your bow may abide in strength, that you may be clothed with humility, and that the arms of your hands may be continually strengthened by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob, is the earnest prayer of your affectionate friend in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[448]

Robinson answered Whitefield’s questions:――

“You ask, sir, why I did not make myself known to you in London? The plain truth is this, I had such a sense of my unworthiness, that I thought your conversation too great an honour for me to enjoy.”

Robinson assigns as his reasons for leaving London, the desire of his relatives to see him; a hope that residing in the country would improve his health; and especially a fear that, if he stayed, his London friends would make him preach before God called him. As to the reason of his going to Norwich, he writes:――

“My intention was to settle in the farming business in the country; but there I found many souls awakened, who had the word preached but now and then. We met in the evenings to sing and pray and speak our experience. They often solicited me to preach among them, as did some neighbouring Dissenting ministers. I long refused; till they wrung their hands, and wept bitterly, and told me they were starving for the word. With many doubts and fears, I, at last, agreed to their request. People came from adjacent towns to hear me. I was invited higher up the country. At length, some of Mr. Wheatley’s friends informed him of me. He sent his clerk, entreating me to come to Norwich. I did come; and, according to the present appearance of things, I apprehend I shall be fixed here.”

In reply to Whitefield’s fourth question, Robinson remarked:――

“As to the ‘prospect of a growing people,’――sometimes I think it bids fair for it; sometimes I think otherwise. The church I preach to has near forty members, and many more are desirous of being received. On the Lord’s-day, we have several hundreds of hearers, who seem very serious, and enquiring the way to Zion. On the week-days, we have abundance of people to hear; and, I hope, the Lord does not let His word return void. The country people frequently send for me, on the days I do not preach at Norwich; and multitudes come to hear, so that the preaching houses will not hold them. However, I can go upon the commons; and, blessed be God! there is room there; and, what is best of all, there is room enough and to spare in my Master’s house. By the time I have preached in public, and have visited, exhorted, and prayed with the people in private, and have kept a little time to enjoy my God in my closet, I find my day is gone; but it is an honour to be busy for Christ. O that my soul may be found living and dying in it!

“My dear sir, I rejoice in your prosperity in the gospel. Go where I will, I find some of your spiritual children;――some awakened by hearing you, and some by reading your sermons. Dear sir, go on preaching; and we will go on praying for you; and who knows what a prayer-hearing God may do? I am really ashamed of my long letter; but, methinks, I am now opening my heart to a tender father, who, I trust, will excuse my infirmities.

“I remain, dear sir, your affectionate son and servant in Christ,

“ROBERT ROBINSON.”[449]

Thus did Robert Robinson become a preacher,――a man who rose to sufficient eminence to have one of his publications discussed in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords; whose learning and services were such as to procure for him the offer of the diploma of D.D. from a Scotch University; and yet, lamentable to relate, who became so loose in his theology as to die under the imputation of being a Socinian.

After his return from Wales, Whitefield’s stay in London was brief. Towards the end of July, he set out for Scotland; in journeying towards which, he formed an acquaintance with another recently converted clergyman, who, for nearly thirty years afterwards, annually rendered important service in Whitefield’s London chapels. John Berridge, the well-known Vicar of Everton, had recently found peace with God, through faith in Christ; and, six months after the time of Whitefield’s visit, occurred those puzzling phenomena, the _stricken cases_, mentioned in Wesley’s Journal. It is rather remarkable, that, though Whitefield’s preaching was much more sensational than Wesley’s, no such effects seem to have been witnessed at Everton by him, as were witnessed by his friend. At all events, if such happened, he is silent concerning them. All that is known of his visit, is contained in the following letter:――

“NEWCASTLE, _July 31, 1758_.

“All the last week was taken up in preaching at Everton, St. Neots, Keysoe, Bedford, Olney, Weston-Favel, Underwood, Ravenstone, and Northampton. Four clergymen lent me their churches, and three read prayers for me in one day. I preached also in John Bunyan’s pulpit; and, at Northampton, I took the field. Good seasons at all the places. Mr. Berridge, who was lately awakened at Everton, promises to be a burning and shining light. Yesterday, we had good times here; and, to-morrow, I shall set off for Edinburgh. My bodily strength increases but very little. Sometimes I am almost tempted to turn back; but I hope to go forward, and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work.”

Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh on August 4, and, despite physical weakness, preached, for nearly a month, in the Orphan Hospital Park, to enormous congregations, morning and evening, every day.[450] Mr. Gillies invited him to Glasgow; but he replied:――

“I fear your kind invitation cannot be complied with. For above three months past, I have been so weak, that I could scarcely drag the crazy load along. I preach at Edinburgh twice a day; but I grow weaker and weaker. I suppose you have heard of the death of Mr. Jonathan Edwards. Happy he!”

In another letter he wrote:――

“EDINBURGH, _August 19, 1758_.

“I came here a fortnight ago, very low indeed; but, by preaching about thirty times, I am a good deal better. Multitudes, of all ranks, flock twice every day. I thought to have moved on Tuesday next, but, as it is the race week, and my health is improving, friends advise me to stay.”

On August 29, he went to Glasgow, where he remained a week. Here, after one of his sermons, he made a collection, amounting to nearly £60, on behalf of a Society, established in 1727, for educating and putting to trades the sons of Highlanders, and of which the Duke of Argyll was the principal member.[451]

Whitefield also preached three thanksgiving sermons, for the taking of Cape Breton, by Boscawen, Amherst, and Wolfe; for the defeat of the Russians, at the great battle of Custrin, by Frederick, King of Prussia; and for the victory over the Austrians and Imperialists, at Crevelt, by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick. “By his warm and repeated exhortations to loyalty, and a steady adherence to the Protestant interest,” said the _Glasgow Courant_, “Mr. Whitefield’s visit here has been useful to the community in a civil, as well as a religious, light.”

On September 6, Whitefield returned to Edinburgh, and, during another week, preached twice every day. On September 13, he set out for London. “By his visit,” says the _Scots’ Magazine_, “the Edinburgh Orphan Hospital has drawn upwards of £200, by the collections at the entry to the Park, and by the seat-rents.”

Remembering the value of money in 1758, these were enormous sums. No wonder, that, even on such a ground, the canny Scots were always ready to give to Whitefield a hearty welcome.

Glimpses of his preaching tour to London will be obtained in the following extracts from his letters:――

“DARLINGTON, _September 21, 1758_.

“At Edinburgh and Glasgow, my health grew better, and I was enabled to preach always twice, and sometimes thrice a day, to very large and affected auditories. In my way to Newcastle, I preached twice; and thrice in and about that place. Yesterday, I hope, some gospel seed fell on good ground at Durham and Bishop-Auckland. I am now on my way to Yarm, and hope next Lord’s-day to be at Leeds.”

“LEEDS, _October 11, 1758_.

“Though I have preached twice and sometimes thrice a day for above a fortnight past, preaching does not kill me. God has been giving blessed seasons. By next Lord’s-day, I am to be at Rotherham and Sheffield. Change of weather will alone drive me to winter quarters. Lord, prepare me for winter trials! They are preparative for an eternal summer.”

To his friend Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow, he wrote:――

“ROTHERHAM, _October 15, 1758_.

“Since my leaving Scotland, in various parts of the north of England, as at Alnwick, Newcastle, Leeds, etc., the ever loving, altogether lovely Jesus has manifested His glory. Thousands and thousands have flocked twice, and sometimes thrice a day to hear the word. Never did I see the fields whiter for a spiritual harvest. Praise the Lord, O our souls! If the weather continues fair, I hope to prolong my summer’s campaign. It shocks me to think of winter quarters yet. How soon does the year roll round! Lord Jesus, quicken my tardy pace! As they were in debt, at Leeds, for their building,[452] last Lord’s-day I collected for them near £50. Lord Jesus, help me to know no party but Thine! This, I am persuaded, is your catholic spirit. O for an increase of it among all denominations!”

From Sheffield, Whitefield proceeded to Staffordshire; and intended to go from there to Bristol; but “change of weather and the shortness of the days drove” him to his “winter quarters.” On reaching London, he wrote:――

“October 28. My health is somewhat improved, but a very little thing soon impairs it. Lord, help me! How very little can I do for Thee! We have had fine gospel seasons. Grace! grace!”[453]

These fragmentary records are truly marvellous. How a man, in such health, performed such labours, for months together, it is difficult to imagine.

Once again in London, his Orphan House demanded his attention. The family had been reduced, and he now had it in his “power to pay off all Bethesda’s arrears.” He sent a number of “Bibles and other books.” “He longed for an opportunity” to go himself; but the war prevented him, and he knew not how to get supplies for his two London chapels. He was, however, quite satisfied with the management of his housekeeper, and sent her “ten thousand thousand thanks.” He wished his superintendent to consign him “a little rice and indigo,” that his “friends might see some of the Orphan House produce.” Taken altogether, his affairs in Georgia were less embarrassing than usual.[454]

During the year, Whitefield had gained a new clerical friend, in Berridge of Everton; but, before it ended, he lost a friend, whom he dearly loved. James Hervey died on Christmas-day, 1758. Within a week of this mournful occurrence, Whitefield wrote the following pathetic letter to the dying rector of Weston-Favel:――

“LONDON, _December 19, 1758_.

“And is my dear friend indeed about to take his last flight? I dare not wish your return into this vale of tears. But our prayers are continually ascending to the Father of our spirits that you may die in the embraces of a never-failing Jesus, and in all the fulness of an exalted faith. O when will my time come! I groan in this tabernacle, being burdened, and long to be clothed with my house from heaven. Farewell! My very dear friend, f――a――r――e――well! Yet a little while, and we shall meet,――

‘Where sin, and strife, and sorrow cease, And all is love, and joy, and peace.’

“There Jesus will reward you for all the tokens of love which you have showed, for His great name’s sake, to yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

“P.S. God comfort your mother, and relations, and thousands and thousands more who will bewail your departure!”[455]

In the year 1758, Whitefield, comparatively speaking, “had rest” from persecution. The only exception was in the case of scurrilous Dr. Free, Vicar of East Coker, and Lecturer at St. Mary Hill, London, and at Newington, Surrey. On Whitsunday, this vehement defender of the Church, preached a sermon, before the University, at St. Mary’s, Oxford, which he immediately published, with a “Preface” and an “Appendix,” and a “Dedication” to the Archbishop of Canterbury. (8vo. 65 pp.) In his “Dedication,” Free informs the Archbishop, that, Wesley and Whitefield “have, by _secret_ advances, so far _stolen_ upon the _common people_, as to seduce _many_ of all _denominations_ from their proper _pastors_; and, aided by this _mixed_ multitude, they threaten the Church of England, the _bulwark_ of the _Protestant_ cause, with a general _alteration_, or total _subversion_.” Free’s “Appendix” chiefly consists of extracts from Whitefield’s Journals, by which he pretends to prove――1. That the “Methodists experiment upon women in _hysteric_ fits, and upon young persons in _convulsions_, under pretence of exorcising devils.” 2. That Whitefield professed to have received “extraordinary inspirations in his _office_ as a _preacher_.” 3. That he and others had “attempted to set up a new form of church-government, through the kingdom, in contempt of the _authority_ of the _Bishops_, and without any _authority_ from the state.” 4. That they had propagated “_atheistical doctrines and propositions_, quite destructive to the morality and well-being of a state.” 5. That they had “abused the _clergy_ in _general_, and the _great lights_ of the Church in _particular_.” 6. That they “imagined God had made them the instruments of a _great work_.” 7. That they used “religiously amorous, melting, and rapturous expressions.”

Whitefield treated the ravings of the Rev. Dr. Free with silent contempt. Wesley wrote the doctor two “letters,” and then left him “to laugh, and scold, and witticise, and call names, just as he pleased.”

Little is known respecting Whitefield’s health, labours, and success, during the first four months of 1759.

On the 4th of January, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Bristol to meet Wesley, who accompanied her to Bath, and preached, to several of the nobility, in her house. Early in February, her ladyship returned to London, and, on Friday, the 16th, the day appointed for a public fast, she went to the Tabernacle, where Whitefield addressed an immense congregation from the words, “Rend your hearts, and not your garments.” At half-past eight in the evening, she heard Wesley at the Foundery, where he preached, to an overflowing multitude, from “Seek the Lord while He may be found.” Her ladyship, profoundly impressed with a conviction of the necessity and power of prayer, arranged for a series of intercession meetings in her own mansion. On Wednesday, February 21, the officiating ministers were Whitefield, Charles Wesley, Venn, and Thomas Maxfield. On Friday, the 23rd, the meeting was conducted by Romaine, Wesley, Madan, and Jones. On Tuesday, the 27th, Wesley writes: “I walked with my brother and Mr. Maxfield to Lady Huntingdon’s. After breakfast, came in Messrs. Whitefield, Madan, Romaine, Jones, Downing, and Venn, with some persons of quality, and a few others. Mr. Whitefield, I found, was to have administered the sacrament; but he insisted upon my doing it: after which, at the request of Lady Huntingdon, I preached on 1 Cor. xiii. 13. O what are the greatest men, to the great God! As the small dust of the balance.”[456] Charles Wesley adds to this account, by saying, “My brother preached, and won all our hearts. I never liked him better, and was never more united to him since his unhappy marriage. We dined at Mr. Madan’s, who took us in his coach.”[457] On Wednesday, the 28th, the service was conducted by Wesley, Venn, and Madan, and, at its close, Whitefield delivered a short exhortation. On Thursday, March 1, the Rev. Thomas Jones preached, and Romaine prayed. On Friday, the 2nd, Charles Wesley gave an address, and Whitefield, Romaine, Downing, and Venn prayed.

These remarkable meetings seem to have been concluded on Tuesday, March 6, when, besides the clergymen already mentioned, there was another present, who afterwards attained a distinguished eminence――John Fletcher, the immortal Vicar of Madeley. First of all, the sacrament was administered by Whitefield. Among the communicants were the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, the Countess of Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Sir Charles Hotham, Mrs. Carteret, Mrs. Cavendish, Sir Sidney Halford Smythe, Mr. Thornton (of Clapham), the Rev. Messrs. Venn, Jones, Maxfield, Downing, Fletcher, and others. Whitefield addressed the communicants; “and all were touched to the heart,” said Lady Huntingdon, “and dissolved in tears.” Whitefield, Romaine, and Madan prayed. The sacramental service being ended, the Earls of Chesterfield and Holderness, and several others of distinction, were admitted. Whitefield preached, with his accustomed eloquence and energy, from “Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” The word, remarked Lady Huntingdon, “drew sighs from every heart, and tears from every eye. Mr. Fletcher concluded with a prayer, every syllable of which appeared to be uttered under the immediate teaching of the Spirit; and, he has told me since, that, he never had more intimate communion with God, or enjoyed so much of His immediate presence, as on that occasion.”[458]

Glorious men, and glorious meetings! No wonder God was present! Who can estimate the results of these godly gatherings? Fresh from such meetings, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Brighton, longing, panting, and praying for the salvation of sinners. She carried to the mansions of the nobility the influence of the services held in her London residence. She took to the houses of the poor the glad tidings of salvation. A soldier’s wife, at Brighton, manifested such anxiety, that the Countess was induced to repeat her visit. The apartment was contiguous to a public bakehouse, and the people, who came to the oven, listened, through a crack in the partition, to her ladyship’s conversations, readings, expositions, and prayers. In a little while, she had, in this humble home, a regular congregation. At first, none but females were admitted; but a blacksmith, named Joseph Wall, a man notorious for his profligacy, by some means, gained admission, was converted, and, for a period of twenty-nine years, adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour. The Countess had become a _preacheress_, and a successful one! In the midst of her Brighton meetings she sent for Whitefield. Whitefield went. His first sermon was preached under a tree, in a field behind the White Lion Inn. Among his hearers was a youth, eighteen years of age, Thomas ♦Tupper, ready to stone the preacher, but who was so affected by Whitefield’s cry of “Turn ye! turn ye!” that he was converted, and became the predecessor of the well-known William Jay of Bath. Another convert, gained on the spot, was Edward Gadsby, who, for more than a quarter of a century afterwards, “walked in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.” After this, conversions were multiplied; and the Countess built a small, but neat meeting-house, on the site of the present one in North Street, the expense of which she, either wholly, or in part, defrayed by the sale of her jewels. In 1761, the chapel was opened by Martin Madan; and, in succession, Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, severally took charge of the congregation.[459]

As usual, Whitefield was greatly encouraged by the prosperity of the work of God in London. In a letter to his housekeeper at Bethesda, dated “March 26, 1759,” he wrote, “We live in a changing world, but Bethesda’s God liveth for ever and ever. His word runs and is glorified daily, especially at Tottenham Court. Strange! that nobody will relieve me, that I may once more flee to America. But, heavenly Father, our times are in Thine hands: do with us as seemeth good in Thy sight!”

Before leaving London for his “spring campaign,” Whitefield issued a small publication with the following title: “A Sermon on Christ Crucified. Preached at Paul’s Cross, the Friday before Easter. By John Foxe, the Martyrologist. With a recommendatory preface by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. London, 1759.”

Nothing need be said of John Foxe’s sermon, but Whitefield’s preface is too good to be omitted.

“To all who attend on the word, preached at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields, and at Tottenham Court chapel.

“MY DEAR HEARERS,――The ensuing discourse was lately put into my hands. The title-page informs you when, where, and by whom it was delivered――namely, near two hundred years ago, in the open air, from a pulpit made in the shape of a cross in Cheapside, commonly called Paul’s Cross, and by that venerable man of God, Mr. John Foxe, Prebend of St. Paul’s, whose Book of Martyrs was, by order of the government in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, fixed in all churches, and remains in many to this day. Though some of the expressions in this sermon may seem to be obsolete, and others want a little explication, I choose to publish it in its native dress, not only on account of its being designed for the instruction and comfort of heavy-laden souls, who are too deeply impressed to mind the elegancy and correctness of the words and phrases, but also chiefly that you might have a specimen of that foolishness of preaching, which, in the days of our forefathers, was so mighty through God to the pulling down of the outward strongholds of popery in these kingdoms; and what was infinitely more (though less discernible by the natural man), the mightier inward strongholds of sin and corruption, in the hearts of both Papists and Protestants.

“And would to God, that not only all the ministers of our Established Church, but of all the Protestant Reformed Churches, were not only almost, but altogether, such preachers! How would their hearers’ hearts then burn within them, whilst they were opening to them, from the Scriptures, man’s original apostacy from God,――the only means of reconciliation through faith in the blood of Christ,――a universal morality, as the sole fruit and proof of such a faith,――an establishment and growth in grace here,――and, as the blessed and certain consequences of all these, a perfect consummation of bliss, both of body and soul, in the full and eternal enjoyment of a Triune God in the kingdom of heaven hereafter. These are the grand truths delivered in the following sermon.

“My chief reason for dedicating it to you is to let you see that the doctrines you daily hear are no new doctrines, but the very same which were preached two hundred years ago, and that in the streets too, by the excellent compilers of the Liturgy and Articles, and who had the honour of being banished and burned, in the bloody reign of Queen Mary, for adhering to the same. And, if it should ever happen in our times, that any of their true-born faithful sons and successors should be excluded pulpits, denied licenses, or put into spiritual courts for preaching in the same manner, let them remember, that we live under a reign, when, though pulpits are shut, the highways and hedges lie open. Paul’s Cross, as I am informed, was burnt down at the Fire of London; but Christ crucified, whom Paul preached, may yet be exalted in the streets and lanes of the city. Our Lord has given us a universal commission: ‘Go ye, and preach the gospel to every creature.’ When thrust out of the synagogues, a mountain, a ship were his pulpit, and the heavens were his sounding-board. Thus Latimer, Cranmer, Ridley, and Mr. John Foxe, the famous martyrologist, preached. And who needs be ashamed of copying after such unexceptionable examples? But I am detaining you too long. Haste, and read; and if, in reading, you feel what I did, you will be glad of this sermon.

“I am, my dear hearers, your affectionate friend and ready servant, in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“London, May 4, 1759.”

A few days after the date of this Protestant preface, Whitefield left London on another of his gospel tours. Hence the following:――

“BRISTOL, _May 25, 1759_.

“This day se’nnight, I came hither. The next day, the spring campaign was opened. On the Lord’s-day, we took the field. Thousands and thousands attended: full as many as in London. The power of the Lord was present at the three meetings, as well as at the holy sacrament. Ever since, I have been enabled to preach twice, and sometimes thrice a day. Never did I see the Bristol people more attentive or impressed. My body feels the heat, but no matter. If souls are benefited, all is well.”

Leaving Bristol, Whitefield made his way to Scotland, arriving at Edinburgh on Saturday, the 30th of June.[460] Three days afterwards, he wrote as follows:――

“Edinburgh, July 3, 1759. There has been a long interval between my last and this. My quick motions and frequent preaching have been the causes. O what am I that I should be employed for Jesus! In Gloucestershire, the cup of many of His people ran over. In Yorkshire, I preached for a week twice a day. Great congregations! great power! Blessed be the name of the Great God for ever and ever! Here, also, people, high and low, rich and poor, flock as usual, morning and evening. I am growing fat; but, as I take it to be a disease, I hope I shall go home the sooner. Happy they who are safe in harbour.”

Whitefield spent nearly seven weeks in Scotland, a fortnight in Glasgow, and the remainder of the time in Edinburgh. Of course, his cathedral in the latter city was the Orphan Hospital Park, as usual, where he preached every morning and evening without exception. He did the same in Glasgow, only on the two Sundays that he was there, he preached ten times! He set out for London on Tuesday, August 14;[461] but, before following him, further extracts from his letters must be given. To the Rev. John Gillies, he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, July 7, 1759. I purpose to see Glasgow; but cannot as yet fix the day. I preach, and people flock as usual; but Scotland is not London. The Redeemer is doing wonders there. Every post brings fresh good news. God’s Spirit blows when and where it listeth. O for a gale before the storm! I expect one is at hand. The refuge is as near. Jesus is our hiding-place. O for a hiding-place in heaven! When will my turn come? Some say, not yet; for I am growing fat. So did Mr. ♦Darracott a little before he died.”

Whitefield’s obesity was one of his troubles. He disliked it; for it was cumbersome, and made his work more difficult. It was not the result of less labour, or of more physical indulgence. Disease had already seized the strong, active man, and, as Whitefield judged, this was one of its early symptoms. It helped, however, to cure him of a fault. “My friend Mr. Whitefield,” says Romaine, “one day told me, that there was a time in his life when he thought he had never well closed a sermon without a lash at the _fat_, downy doctors of the Establishment. ‘At that period,’ said he, ‘I was not lean myself, though much slenderer than since. I went on, however, and seldom failed to touch pretty smartly upon the objects of my dissatisfaction, till one day, on entering the pulpit at Tottenham Court Road, I found the door apparently narrowed, and moved in obliquely. The idea then struck me, that I was becoming, at least in appearance, a downy doctor myself; and, from that time, I never more made the downy doctors a subject of castigation.’”[462]

“Edinburgh, July 12, 1759. It is well that there is a heaven to make amends for our disappointments on earth. It is a dead time in Scotland. There is little or no stirring among the dry bones. It is not so in London, and several other parts of England. On Monday, God willing, I go to blow the gospel trumpet at Glasgow. Lord, what am I, that I should be one of Thy run-abouts! If this be to be vile, Lord, make me more vile.”

“Glasgow, July 18, 1759. I see the disease, but know not how to come at a cure. I dread a corpulent body; but it breaks in upon me like an armed man. O that my heart may not wax gross at the same time! Congregations in Scotland are very large.”

During his present visit to Scotland, Whitefield preached nearly a hundred times, to ever-increasing congregations. His collections, for the Orphan Hospital, amounted to £215. In most of his sermons, he stirred up the zeal of the people for God, for King George II., and for their country. His last service, on Sunday evening, August 12, was a thanksgiving sermon for the victory of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick over the French, at Minden, on July 31. Another fact also must be mentioned. Miss Henderson, a young lady of considerable fortune, offered him a gift of £700, which he courteously refused. She then proposed to give it to his Orphan House; but, for some reason, this offer also was declined.[463] This was the mercenary man, who, according to his enemies, was always endeavouring to amass a fortune for himself!

At the end of August, Whitefield was once more in London, and, a fortnight afterwards, wrote the following concerning his Orphan House:――

“London, September 13, 1759. Your letter, dated May 25, which I received yesterday, gave me unspeakable satisfaction. God be praised for your success in silk-worms! God be praised that Bethesda is out of debt! God be praised for all His tender mercies to me and mine! Praise the Lord, O our souls! I wish some of the children could be bred up for the ministry. What a pity that I cannot have a grammar school! I shall think and pray, and then write to you on this head. It is a most discouraging thing, that good places cannot be found for the boys when fit to go out. By this means, they are kept in the house beyond their time, both to their own hurt, and to the further expense of the institution. Could you let me know what stock of cattle you have, and what hogs you kill? The more particular you are about everything, the better. I long for the account. I am glad you received the books. More are to be sent from Scotland. I do not much care for R――――’s being at Bethesda, unless he is a true penitent. How does my nephew go on?”

It is a remarkable fact, that hardly anything is known of Whitefield’s public ministry for the next five months. During this interval, however, he is not entirely shrouded from the public eye.

Nearly sixty years ago, had died the Rev. Samuel Clarke, M.A., one of the noble brotherhood of Christian clergymen, ejected from their pulpits by the Act of Uniformity in 1662. His father was one of the best oriental scholars of the age; and father and son combined quitted livings worth £600 a year. The son settled at High Wycombe,――“a man of considerable learning; a good critic, especially in the Scriptures; a great textuary; an excellent preacher; a great enemy of superstition and bigotry; yet zealous for unaffected piety and extensive charity.”[464] He was the author of several works, but his principal publication was “Annotations on the Bible,”――a work designed at the Oxford University, and the labour of his life. A new edition of this valuable, but almost unknown, Commentary, was published in 1759; and, for the new edition, Whitefield wrote a recommendatory preface, which is dated “London, October 1, 1759.” No useful end would be answered by the insertion of Whitefield’s preface. A brief extract from it must suffice:――

“In my poor opinion, next to holy Mr. Matthew Henry’s incomparable Comment upon the Bible, the Rev. Samuel Clarke’s Annotations seem to be the best calculated for universal edification. Though short, they contain, generally speaking, a full and spiritual interpretation of the most difficult words and phrases. A great many parallel scriptures are most judiciously inserted. And an analysis of the contents of every book and chapter is added. It may be, that, the curious and very critical reader may meet with a few exceptionable expressions; but, alas! if we forbear reading any book or comment, till we meet with one that will suit every taste, and is liable to no exception, I fear, we must never read at all. The best of men’s books, as well as the best of men themselves, are but men and the books of men, at the best. It is the peculiar property of Thy life, and of Thy Book, O blessed Jesus! to be exempt from all imperfections.”

News having arrived of Boscawen’s capture of the Toulon fleet off Cape Lagos, in Portugal; and of the victory on the heights of Abraham, and the surrender of Quebec, Whitefield, too impulsive to wait for royal proclamations, preached three thanksgiving sermons, on Friday, October 19. This, forsooth! gave great offence to the notorious anti-Methodist, Dr. Free, who wrote:――

“From Mr. Whitefield’s great _booth_, we had a pompous article in _St. James’s Evening Post_, of October 20, 1759, stating that, the day before, ‘the Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached three thanksgiving sermons, two in the morning at the Tabernacle, and one at his chapel at Tottenham Court, to numerous audiences of persons of distinction.’ By which, it appears, that, being _without law_, he did not think it decency to wait till his Majesty appointed the day of thanksgiving; but pert,――forward,――an enthusiast,――he sounds his own trumpet, sets up his own standard, and is attended in his irregularities by numerous persons of distinction.”[465]

Dr. Free was not the only clergyman who pleased himself by attacking Whitefield. The Rev. Mr. Downes, rector of St. Michael’s, Wood Street, and lecturer of St. Mary-le-Bow, published his “Methodism Examined and Exposed” (8vo. 106 pp.), in which Whitefield and Wesley were abused with a vehemence unbefitting a Christian minister.[466]

Towards the end of the year, Whitefield stirred a nest of hornets. He preached a sermon against attending theatres. This evoked a sixpenny pamphlet, with the title, “A Discourse concerning Plays and Players. Occasioned by a late and very extraordinary Sermon, in which some sentiments relative to the above subjects were delivered in a very copious and affecting manner, from the Pulpit of a certain popular Preacher of the Society called Methodists.” The writer of the pamphlet professed to be a Methodist himself. As such, he had long entertained an “ignorant” zeal against theatres; but he had recently been cured of his “blind prejudice,” by conversing with a comedian, and by seeing Garrick act. In consequence of this conversion, he had been much offended by the sermon in question, because it threatened attenders at theatres with damnation. Whitefield’s sermon brought upon him other attacks, besides this of a professed Methodist; but it must suffice at present to insert an extract from the _Monthly Review_, for November, 1759, in which the “Discourse” of the theatre-going Methodist is noticed:――

“We hope the pious orator, Mr. Whitefield, made some reserve in favour of those who frequent the theatres in the neighbourhood of Moorfields, Tottenham Court, Cow Cross, and Broad St. Giles. But, after all, it were no wonder, that a Whitefield, or a Wesley should be jealous of so powerful a rival as a Garrick; or even a Woodward, a Shuter, or a Yates. However, it must be allowed uncharitable in any performers, or managers, thus to consign each other’s audiences to the devil. We hope our good friends of Drury Lane and Covent Garden have never been chargeable with such unfair and unchristian dealings. Emulation is certainly commendable, while accompanied with honesty and decency; and if we can improve and extend our traffic by furnishing a better commodity than another can, why, it is all fair; but neither decency nor honesty will allow us to break the windows, or to abuse or frighten away the customers, of _our rivals in trade_.”

These were the first mutterings of one of the most violent storms that ever burst upon the head of Whitefield; but more of this anon.

Whitefield began the year 1760 by enlarging the Tottenham Court chapel, opened only three years before. He wrote to a friend in America:――

“London, February 5, 1760. I am growing very corpulent, but, I trust, not too corpulent for another voyage, when called to it. Every day the work increases. On Sunday last, a new enlargement of the chapel was opened, and a great concourse of people assembled.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield published a 12mo. pamphlet of twenty-four pages, entitled “Russian Cruelty; being the substance of several Letters from sundry Clergymen, in the New Marche of Brandenburg.” The letters are full of horrible details respecting the cruelties practised by the Russian army in Germany; and, in his preface, Whitefield ardently asks for sympathy and help on behalf of the distressed Protestants in that country. The preface is dated “March 2, 1760.” Friday, March 14, was appointed to be observed by a general fast; and, on the Sunday previous, says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “the Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached at his Tabernacle, at Tottenham Court Road, to a very numerous audience. In his discourse, he took occasion to mention the cruelties exercised by the Russian Cossacks upon the Protestant subjects of the Duchy of Mecklenburg, and earnestly to recommend a collection for their relief on the day of the public fast. The money is to be paid into the hands of the minister of the Lutheran chapel in London, by him to be transmitted to Germany, and there to be distributed in a proper manner to the objects worthy of relief.” Remembering the worth of money a hundred years ago, Whitefield’s collections were enormous. The following is taken from _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of March 17, 1760:――

“On the Fast-day, upwards of £400 were collected at Mr. Whitefield’s chapel in Tottenham Court Road, and at the Tabernacle, in Moorfields, for the relief of the distressed Protestants in and about Custrin, in the New Marche of Brandenburg; many of whom have been not only plundered and stripped of all they had, but have likewise been cruelly tortured and abused by the savage Cossacks and other irregular troops of the Russian army.”[467]

It is a strange and disgraceful coincidence, that, on the very Fast-day, when Whitefield was so nobly exerting himself to redress the Russian cruelties in Germany, one of Whitefield’s friends, within a dozen miles of London, was being treated with cruelty dishonourable to the character of old England. Hence the following taken from _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of March 21, 1760:――

“Last Friday (the Fast-day) a terrible riot happened at Kingston, in Surrey, occasioned by a Methodist preacher, who came there, and assembled a great number of people together in a barn to hear him. Whilst he was preaching, an impudent fellow threw some dirt at him, which created a great disturbance; and the mob, at last, dragged the preacher into the street, and rolled him in a ditch; and, had it not been for the humanity and good-nature of a gentleman near the spot, who took him into his house, he, in all likelihood, would have been murdered. Some of the Inniskilling dragoons being there among the mob, with their swords, wounded and bruised several of the people, and put the whole town into an uproar; but, by the prudent behaviour of their commanding officer, all ill consequences were prevented. He ordered the drums to beat, assembled the dragoons in the yard of the Sun Inn, and kept them there for some time, and then ordered them to their quarters.”

One of the notable events of 1760 was the trial and the execution of the half mad and intensely wicked Earl Ferrers, for the brutal murder of Mr. Johnson, his steward. The notorious Earl being nearly related to the Countess of Huntingdon, she and all her Methodist friends felt a profoundly painful interest in the case. The trial, which lasted three days, commenced in Westminster Hall, on April 16. Charles Wesley writes:――

“April 17, 1760. Yesterday morning, my heart was overwhelmed with sorrow. Not in my own will did I enter the place of judgment. George Whitefield and his wife sat next me. The lords entered with the utmost state: first the barons, then the lords, bishops, earls, dukes, and Lord High Steward. Most of the royal family, the peeresses, and chief gentry of the kingdom, and the foreign ambassadors were present, and made it one of the most august assemblies in Europe; but the pomp was quite lost upon me.”[468]

After his condemnation, the Earl was often visited, in the Tower of London, by the Countess of Huntingdon, and twice by Whitefield, to whom he behaved with great politeness. At her ladyship’s request, Whitefield repeatedly offered up public prayer for the unhappy murderer. “That impertinent fellow,” said Horace Walpole, “told his enthusiasts that my lord’s heart was stone.” So it was. Earl Ferrers ended his ignoble life, on the scaffold, May 5, 1760. “With all his madness,” sneered the flippant writer just mentioned, “Lord Ferrers was not mad enough to be struck with Lady Huntingdon’s sermons. The Methodists have nothing to brag of his conversion, though Whitefield prayed for him, and preached about him.”[469]

At the period when Whitefield was visiting Earl Ferrers in the Tower, there was another convict, belonging to another class of society, who secured his pity and attentions. Robert Tilling, coachman to Mr. Lloyd, a merchant living in Devonshire Square, Bishopsgate Street, had presented himself at the bedside of his master, at four o’clock in the morning of February 19; pointed a pistol at his head; demanded the keys of his escritoir; and threatened to blow out his brains, unless the demand was granted. The keys were given up; the merchant was robbed of his money; the coachman was arrested; was tried at the Old Bailey; confessed his crime; was sentenced to be hanged; and, in company with three others, was executed, at Tyburn, on Monday, April 28. The body was conveyed to Whitefield’s Tabernacle in Moorfields, where, _horresco referens!_ it was exposed to the public view. On April 30, it was carried to Tindall’s burying ground in Bunhill Fields. The rest of the story may be told by an extract from _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of the 5th of May:――

“We are informed that there was a prodigious concourse of people to hear Mr. Whitefield speak in Bunhill Fields, at the grave of Robert Tilling; some think not less than twenty thousand. There was no burial office read; but, after the corpse had been laid in the ground some time, Mr. Whitefield came, and, in a declamatory way, shewed how the wages of sin was death,――gave some account of the malefactor’s penitence,――exhorted all in general to turn from their vices and come to Christ,――and pressed all servants in particular to take warning by the criminal’s execution, and shew all fidelity to their masters.”

Having “spent all the last winter in London,” Whitefield set out, in the month of May, on another of his evangelistic tours. First of all, he went to Gloucestershire; in June he went to Wales; in July, to Bristol; and in August came back to London. In September and October, he had “a ramble of two months in Yorkshire;”[470] after which, as usual, he returned to his “winter quarters,” in the metropolis.[471] Hardly anything is known of these preaching journeys. The following are extracts from his letters:――

“Bristol, July 5, 1760. When in the fields, ten thousand, perhaps more, assemble here. When under cover, there are more than the Tabernacle will hold; at least, in the evening. Every time, the house is a Bethel, a house of God, a gate of heaven. I thought my wife’s illness would have hastened me to London; but, as she is now recovering, I would fain proceed in my summer’s campaign. I am persuaded I am the better for your prayers. Never were they more charitably bestowed. I am a worm, and no man. O blessed Jesus, how good Thou art! With all Thy other mercies, give, O give me an humble and a thankful heart!”

“Bristol, July 8, 1760. I have sympathised with you, in respect to your fears about the _Indian_ war. Lord Jesus, grant the Indians may not come near Bethesda! In heaven, all alarms will be over. I long for those blessed mansions. But nothing kills me. My wife was lately just got into harbour, but is driven back again. Blessed be God, we are sure of getting in at last. Jesus is our pilot. I am going on in my old way, saving that I grow fatter and fatter every day. Lord, help me to work it down! But it seems working will not do it.”

“London, August 15, 1760. How do I long to hear of God’s appearing for Georgia and Bethesda! I trust the Indians will not be permitted to disturb a family planted by God’s own right hand, and for His own glory. But the Divine judgments are a great deep. I trust some Bethesda letters will soon put me out of suspense. I wrote to you by the convoy that took your new governor. I hope he will behave friendly to the Orphan House. If we make the Lord Jesus our friend, all will be well. Many here are seeking His friendship. Satan is angry. I am now mimicked and burlesqued upon the public stage. All hail such contempt! God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Jesus Christ! It is sweet! It is sweet! What a mercy is it, that we have got an abiding inheritance in the kingdom of heaven! Of this we can never be robbed. _Hallelujah!_”

It is a remarkable fact, that, though the burlesquing of Whitefield, in 1760, was a most disgraceful, and almost unparalleled outrage against all propriety, the above and another introduced hereafter are the only instances, in Whitefield’s published letters, where he mentions it. The subject is disgusting; but it must be noticed.

Samuel Foote was born at Truro, in Cornwall. His father was member of Parliament for Tiverton. Young Foote was educated at Worcester College, Oxford. On leaving the University, he became student of law in the Temple. He married a young lady of a good family and some fortune; but, their tempers not agreeing, harmony did not long subsist between them. Foote now launched into all the fashionable follies of the age, gambling not excepted; and, in a few years, squandered all his money. His necessities led him to the stage. In 1747, when about twenty-six years of age, he opened the little theatre in the Haymarket, taking upon himself the double character of author and performer. His first dramatic piece was called “The Diversions of the Morning,” and was chiefly a description of several well-known living persons. For years after, Foote continued to select, for the entertainment of the town, such public characters as seemed most likely to amuse the attendants at his theatre. In 1760, he published and performed “The Minor,” a filthy and profane burlesque of Whitefield and his followers. Six years afterwards, he broke his leg, and was compelled to undergo an amputation. His last piece was brought out in 1776, and was called “The Trip to Paris.” In this, he made a pointed attack on the character of the Duchess of Kingston. The Lord Chamberlain interdicted the performance. Foote made some alterations in the play, and brought it out under the title of “The Capuchin.” In this, he levelled his satire, not only against the Duchess, but against her bosom friend, Dr. Jackson, the editor of a newspaper. Foote grew in wickedness, as he grew in years. He was charged with an unnatural crime, but was acquitted. The man, however, who had been stigmatizing public and living persons, for the last thirty years, was annoyed at being stigmatized himself. His spirits sank; his health failed; and, while on the stage, he was seized with paralysis. Soon afterwards, he set out for France; but died suddenly, at Dover, on October 21, 1777. He was privately interred in Westminster Abbey.[472] “Foote,” said Boswell to Johnson, both of whom were well acquainted with the zany, “Foote has a great deal of humour.” Johnson: “Yes, sir.” Boswell: “He has a singular talent for exhibiting character.” Johnson: “Sir, it is not a talent――it is a vice: it is what others abstain from. It is not comedy, which exhibits the character of a species, as that of a miser gathered from many misers: it is a farce, which exhibits individuals.” Boswell: “Pray, sir, is not Foote an infidel?” Johnson: “I do not know, sir, that the fellow is an infidel: but if he be an infidel, he is an infidel as a dog is an infidel; that is to say, he has never thought upon the subject.”[473]

This profane and filthy-minded comedian was the author of the infamous production, which brought upon Whitefield an unequalled torrent of abuse and ridicule. Its title was, “The Minor, a Comedy, written by Mr. Foote. As it is now acting at the New Theatre in the Hay-Market. By authority from the Lord Chamberlain.[474] _Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum._ London, 1760.” (8vo. 91 pp.)

“The Minor” was first acted early in July, 1760.[475] It would be far worse than offensive to give an outline of it in a work like this. How educated and respectable people could listen to such ribald and blasphemous outpourings it is difficult to imagine. The whole thing is so steeped in lewdness, that it would be criminal even to reproduce the plot. Suffice it to say, that Foote was not only the author of the piece, but its chief actor. He performed the three characters, “Shift,” “Smirk,” and “Mrs. Cole.” He declaimed against “the Itinerant Field Orators, who are at declared enmity with common sense, and yet have the address to poison the principles, and, at the same time, to pick the pockets of half our industrious fellow-subjects.” He lays it down, that, “ridicule is the only antidote against this pernicious poison. Methodism is a madness that arguments can never cure; and, should a little wholesome severity be applied, persecution would be the immediate cry. Where then can we have recourse but to the comic muse? Perhaps the archness and severity of her smile may redress an evil, that the laws cannot reach, or reason reclaim.” Such, forsooth, were the virtuous motives which prompted Foote, in the profanest language, and in the character of a _bawd_, to ridicule the greatest evangelist of his age, and one whom all men now delight to honour. In a literary point of view, “The Minor” is despicable; in a moral, it is _unquotable_.

The Countess of Huntingdon waited on the Duke of Devonshire, the Lord Chamberlain, and requested its suppression; but was told her request could not be granted. She had an interview with Garrick, who professed to be offended with the comedy;[476] and yet, shortly after, admitted it into his own theatre in Drury Lane.

In the very month when it first appeared, even the _Monthly Review_, no friend to the Methodists, condemned it. Hence the following:――

“The spirit of puffing, which so strongly characterizes the present age, is become so universal, that almost every class seems to be moved by it. In time past, it was chiefly confined to quack doctors, booksellers, and advertising tailors; but now even the wits of the town are seized by it, and every farce-writer ostentatiously styles his _petit piece_ of three acts, a comedy. This of Mr. Foote’s is one of the number; but it no more deserves the title of a comedy than ‘The Stage Coach,’ ‘The Devil to Pay,’ or any of those inferior dramatic productions, which usually appear as the humble attendants upon works of the higher order――the tragedies and comedies of _five acts_.

“The success of the present performance, during the representation, arose from the author’s extraordinary talent at mimicry; but it is not calculated to please equally in the perusal. The satire levelled at the great leader of the Methodists seems to be extremely out of character. It is no less unjust to Mr. Whitefield, than absurd, to suppose a man of his penetration, either conniving at, or being the dupe of, an old bawd’s hypocrisy, in continuing to follow her iniquitous occupation, while she frequents the Tabernacle, and cants about the new birth. And when we are told that an occasional hymn is given out, and a thanksgiving sermon preached, on occasion of Mother Cole’s (Douglas’s) recovery from sickness, who can forbear smiling――not with approbation of the conceit, but, with contempt for the author of such improbable scandal? We despise and abhor all enthusiastic flights, and high pretentions to extraordinary sanctity, as much as Mr. Foote can do; but, without entering into the enquiry whether or not these are proper objects of playhouse ridicule, it is most certain, that no man, or body of men, ought to be charged with more than they are guilty of; and that there is not a juster maxim in the moral world, than, ‘_Give the devil his due[477]_.’”

In the month of August,[478] 1760, there appeared a pamphlet with the title, “Christian and Critical Remarks on a Droll, or Interlude, called ‘The Minor,’ now acting by a Company of Stage-Players in the Hay-Market, and said to be acted by Authority; in which the Blasphemy, Falsehood, and Scurrility of that Piece are properly considered, answered, and exposed. By a Minister of the Church of Christ. London, 1760.” (8vo. 41 pp.) The writer says Foote “has gone beyond any of his competitors in debauching, if possible, and debasing the stage. He has done this, by doing that which nobody else in these kingdoms had the confidence to attempt; I mean by the introduction of real and living characters into his pieces.” And then, it is correctly added, “The name of the Spirit of God is bandied about from the mouth of vagabond to vagabond, in order to raise a laugh in honour of the devil.”

A month later, was published a 4to. shilling pamphlet, entitled, “A Satyrical Dialogue between the celebrated Mr. F――te and Dr. Squintum,” which the _Monthly Review_ pronounced, “Dirty trash: intended to vilify Mr. Whitefield.” Also, a folio publication (price 1s.), with the title, “A Letter of Expostulation from the Manager of the Theatre in Tottenham Court, to the Manager of the Theatre in the Hay-Market, relative to a new Comedy, called ‘The Minor.’” In this infamous and lewd production, Whitefield is represented as being jealous of Foote in gulling the public, and, therefore, proposes that they become partners. Much of it cannot be quoted. The following are among the less objectionable lines. Addressing Foote, Whitefield, at the Tabernacle, is made to say:――

“Your talent of humour shall have its full swing, Here pleasure and profit are both on the wing: Love-feasts――and ladies intriguing――and cash―― Keep on but the vizor,――have at ’em slap-dash―― No bait shall be wanting the trade to advance, We’ll now and then tip ’em a drum and a dance.”

In the month of October, the storm was continued, and, if possible, became more furious. A long letter was inserted in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, in which, after praising Foote for his mimicry in “The Minor,” the writer adds: “Religion is too sacred (be it exercised in ever so absurd a manner) to become the butt of public mockery. If the exercise of it should be unwarrantable, the laws will check it, without calling theatrical buffoonery to their assistance.”

Three months before, as soon as “The Minor” appeared, there was published, a shilling pamphlet, with the false title: “A Genuine Letter from a Methodist Preacher in the Country, to Laurence Sterne, M.A., Prebendary of York.” Now, in the month of October, the same “nonsensical and profane” thing was re-issued with an altered title: “A Letter from the Rev. George Whitefield, B.A., to the Rev. Laurence Sterne, M.A., the supposed Author of ‘The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.’” Even the _Monthly Review_ now became indignant, and said, “The impudence of our low dirty, hedge-publishers is risen to a most shameful height. To take such scandalous liberties with names, as is here done with that of Mr. Whitefield, is surely insufferable in any well-regulated community. If it is not in that gentleman’s power to procure redress of such a flagrant injury, it is high time to provide the means of punishing such audacious proceedings for the future.”

The volatile Foote also added to his previous crime, the publication of an 8vo. pamphlet, of 40 pages, entitled, “A Letter from Mr. Foote to the Reverend Author of the Remarks, Critical and Christian, on ‘The Minor.’” The mendacious reviler writes:――

“I am extremely puzzled in what manner to address you; it being impossible to determine, from the title you assume, whether you are an authorised pastor, or a peruke-maker,――a real clergyman, or a corn-cutter.”

Again:――

“I have heard George Whitefield’s mother frequently declare that he was a dull, stupid, heavy boy, totally incapable of their business at the ‘Bell,’ a principal inn at Gloucester.

“The force and miserable effects of Whitefield’s mystic doctrines are obvious enough. _Bedlam_ loudly proclaims the power of your preacher, and scarce a street in town but boasts its tabernacle; where some, from interested views, and others――unhappy creatures! mistaking the idle offspring of a distempered brain for divine inspiration, broach such doctrines as are not only repugnant to Christianity, but destructive even to civil society.

“I believe Whitefield is too cunning to let anybody into the secret as to the quantity of wealth he has amassed; but, from your own computation of males fit to carry arms, who are listed in his service, and the price they are well known to pay for admittance, even into the gallery of his theatre, I should suppose his annual income must double the primate’s. To this may be added private benefactions and occasional contributions.”

One more specimen of Foote’s audacious scurrility must suffice. He concludes his pamphlet thus:――

“You a reformer! Are these the proofs of your mission? Repent, and, by way of atonement and mortification, summon your misguided flock; reveal your impious frauds, and restore the poor deluded people to their senses and their proper pastors. If you still persist, I must, after your example, conclude with wishing that those teachers amongst you, who are mad, were confined closely in _Bedlam_, and those who are wicked, were lodged safely in _Bridewell_; and then, I think the public would get rid of you all. But, whilst you continue triumphantly at large, spiritualized and divine as you may think yourselves, I shall still take the liberty to follow you, as the boy did Philip, with a loud memento that you are merely men.”

The reader must pardon these long extracts from such a writer; for, without them, it is difficult to convey an adequate idea of what a sensitive man like Whitefield must have suffered from the publication of such falsehoods and abuse. Unfortunately more must follow.

In the month of November, Garrick permitted “The Minor” to be acted in Drury Lane Theatre, but with some insignificant alterations, the chief of which was, in lieu of a filthy and profane sentence, which cannot be quoted, Mrs. Cole, the bawd, was represented as saying, “Dr. Squintum washed me with the soap-suds and scouring sand of the Tabernacle, and I became as clean and bright as a pewter-platter.”[479] The theatre was crowded, and thus even Garrick, as well as Foote, began to make money by holding up Whitefield to the ridicule of the large and fashionable assemblies of the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. It was now that one of the personal friends of Whitefield stepped into the lists. The Rev. Martin Madan[480] published an 8vo. pamphlet of 48 pages, entitled, “A Letter to David Garrick, Esq.; occasioned by the intended Representation of ‘The Minor’ at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane.” In an advertisement, Mr. Madan states that the first performance of ‘The Minor’ in Drury-Lane had been fixed for October 25, but the sudden death of King George the Second, on the morning of that day, occasioned a short postponement. Madan refrains from discussing “the absolute unlawfulness of stage entertainments,” because that point had been “ably and unanswerably proved by the masterly pen of the Rev. Mr. William Law.” He says, “Mr. Whitefield knows nothing of the writing of this letter;[481] and I will not say one word in behalf of him. I shall put him as much out of the case as if there was no such man breathing. I profess no attempt to defend anything but the truths of the Bible, and consequently the religion of this country, as by law established.” Madan declares that, instead of “The Minor” being styled a comedy, it deserved the name of “A Dramatic Libel against the Christian Religion;” and, by quotations, proceeds to state his reasons, for this assertion, adding:――

“Does Mr. Garrick think such language as this is fit for the entertainment of polite ears? Would any one imagine that these speeches, if weighed one moment in the balance of reason (to say nothing of religion), could possibly be introduced, with the least degree of approbation, before any audience, except the inhabitants of Bridewell or Newgate? I blush for my countrymen, when I recollect, that even this _vile stuff_ was attended to in the Hay-Market, by crowded audiences, for above thirty nights, and that with applause; whereas it was dismissed, with deserved abhorrence, after being _one_ night _only_ offered to the people of Ireland, at one of their theatres. This I have been credibly informed of, and believe it to be true.”

After furnishing other quotations from “The Minor,” Madan again addresses Garrick thus:――

“Now, sir, give me leave to appeal to your own _good sense_ and _judgment_, whether, upon the foregoing view of ‘The Minor,’ you think it a proper entertainment for his Majesty’s comedians to exhibit, or his Majesty’s subjects to attend to; whether you think there is such a veneration for our holy religion among the people, as to need any retrenchment; and whether making the language of the Scriptures and the doctrines of the gospel ridiculous, can be likely to answer any other end, than increasing the daily growth of impiety and infidelity amongst people of all degrees?”

“As to Mr. Foote, I would charitably think, that all the knowledge he has of the several expressions and doctrines he has ridiculed, is, in consequence of his attendance upon the preaching of Mr. Squintum, in order to laugh at him. Hence he thought (as he had not been used to such language) that they were the vapours of a distempered brain, and treated them accordingly; so that, like Solomon’s madman, he has been casting about firebrands, arrows, and death, and saying, ‘Am I not in sport?’ I hope, however, Mr. Foote will endeavour to inform himself better, and then make what amends he can to the public, for having been the promoter of an open attack upon the truths and _language_ of the _sacred volume_, by the mouths of the most profligate and wicked of the people; for we can hardly walk the streets, but we hear ballads, in which the _very words_ of our blessed Saviour are blasphemed, and treated as the _rare doctrine_ of Dr. Squintum.”

It is hoped that quotations like these will justify the treating of this subject at so great a length. To say nothing of Foote, and his lewd audiences in the little theatre in the Haymarket, it was a serious, almost a national, crime and evil when such profanity and pollution were introduced into His Majesty’s Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane; and when, prompted by such a high example, Grub Street began to supply ballads, of the same horrible description as the farce of Foote, to the boys and girls, the drunkards and profligates, of England’s great metropolis.[482]

Besides Mr. Madan’s pamphlet, another was published, in Whitefield’s favour, in November, 1760, namely: “A Letter to Mr. Foote, occasioned by his Letter to the Reverend Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor;’ containing a Refutation of Mr. Foote’s Pamphlet, and a full Defence of the Principles and Practices of the Methodists. By the Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks.” (8vo. 28 pp.)

This was a well-written pamphlet; but another, by the same author, published in the same month, was not so prudently composed. Its title was, “An Exhortatory Address to the Brethren in the Faith of Christ. Occasioned by a Remarkable Letter from Mr. Foote to the Reverend Author of Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor.’ With a serious word or two on the present Melancholy Occasion. By a Minister of the Church of Christ.” The “serious word or two” spoilt all the rest; for the author rashly insinuated that the encouragement given to Foote was the sin which had brought upon the nation a Divine judgment, in the recent sudden death of George II. As might be expected, this gave an advantage to Foote and to his friends. On reading the pamphlet, the _Monthly Review_ exclaimed, “_O thou wrong-headed leader of the wrong-heads! Fie on thee! Fie on thee!_”

On the other side, a long letter, filling nearly a page, was inserted in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of November 14. It began as follows: “We now have the pleasure of seeing Methodism ushered in in comic characters, and the ridiculous gesture of the Tabernacle Impostor mimicked in the easier attitude of the stage.” The writer proceeds to criticise what he calls Methodism’s “favourite tenet, the _grace of assurance_, good works being not significant;” and then wishes “we had some formal Court of Judicature, to detect the cunning cant and hypocrisy of all pretenders to sanctity and devotion, for then we should be able to guard against those who preach to us salvation with a view to make us undergo a _temporal fleecing_.” With a sneer, he concludes thus:――

“What a monstrous piece of inhumanity are we venerators of apostolic doctrine and episcopal dignity to these pretended saint errants and non-apostolical preachers! To complete their unhappiness, we have made them a theatrical scoff, and the common jest and scorn of every chorister in the street.”

Five days afterwards, there appeared, in the same journal, a letter by Wesley, replying to this “very angry gentleman,” whom he presumed to be “a retainer of the theatre.” This evoked a disgracefully abusive answer, on November 24, which concluded with the polite assertion, that “arguing with Methodists is like pounding fools in a mortar.” Wesley again replied, on December 3; and his opponent, angrier than ever, in a long epistle, on December 12. In one of his quiet, but caustic letters, Wesley concluded the correspondence on December 26.

During this lengthened controversy, between Wesley and his nameless adversary, two more pamphlets were given to the public. The first was entitled, “A Letter to Mr. F――te. Occasioned by the Christian and Critical Remarks on his Interlude, called ‘The Minor.’ To which is added an Appendix, relative to a Serious Address to the Methodists themselves.” (12mo. 28 pp.) The thing was full of banter and badness,――bespattering Whitefield, and extolling Foote. The second was an equally vile production: “Observations, Good or Bad, Stupid or Clever, Serious or Jocular, on Squire Foote’s Dramatic Entertainment, entitled ‘The Minor.’ By a Genius.” (12mo. 15 pp.) In the _Genius’s_ estimation, “the _fable_ of ‘The Minor’ is pretty and entertaining; the _manners_ happily described; the _sentiments_ just and natural; and the _language_ easy and spirited!!!” The critique of the _Monthly Review_ on this production of “a Genius” was contained in a single line: “All the humour of this lies in the title-page.”

These lengthened details may be somewhat tedious; but they show the terrible _fracas_ in which Whitefield was involved during the year 1760. This certainly was one of the most painful years of his eventful life. The persecution also was novel. He had been abused by clergymen in England, Scotland, and America, by pamphleteers learned and illiterate, and by mobs; but now, for the first time, he was ridiculed by theatrical comedians and their friends. Other opponents had been severe; but, as a rule, they had not been ribald and profane. Now it was otherwise. The farce of Foote, and the ballads in the streets, were steeped in blasphemy and filth. And yet, with the exception already mentioned, they are never noticed in any of Whitefield’s published letters. That he suffered――keenly suffered――it is impossible to doubt; but there is no evidence that he murmured or complained. No man more fully realized the truth and meaning of the Saviour’s beatitude, “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you _falsely_, for my sake.”

“The Minor” was not the only farce published against Whitefield. At least, three other kindred productions were printed during the ensuing year. First, there was “An Additional Scene to the Comedy of ‘The Minor.’ London, 1761.” (8vo. 19 pp.) In this, Whitefield was described as “a priestly-looking man, with a cast in his eyes, and wearing a white flaxen wig,” and who, on being introduced to Foote, presented a comedy of his own composing, and requested Foote to act it. Then, there was “The Register Office: a Farce of Two Acts. Acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. By J. Reed. London, 1761.” (8vo. 47 pp.) A filthy thing, in which Whitefield is called “Mr. Watchlight,” instead of “Dr. Squintum;” and “Mrs. Snarewell” answers to “Mrs. Cole” in “The Minor” by Foote. “Lady Wrinkle” and “Mrs. Snarewell” are both _dramatis personæ_ in the printed farce; but a foot-note states, “These two characters were not _permitted_ to be played.” Then, finally, there was “The Methodist: a Comedy: being a Continuation and Completion of the Plan of ‘The Minor’ written by Mr. Foote: as it was intended to have been acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, but for obvious reasons suppressed. With the original Prologue and Epilogue. London, 1761.” (8vo. 60 pp.) This, if possible, was even more profane and polluted than “The Minor” itself; and, though not acted, it soon passed through three editions. “Squintum” and “Mrs. Cole” were both among the leading characters; but to quote what they are made to say would be a crime. Half a dozen lines, however, taken from the prologue, may be given:――

“No private pique this just resentment draws, Or brands a wretched _Squintum_, or his cause; But, since the laws no punishment provide For such as draw the multitude aside, The poet seizes the corrective rod, To scourge the bold blasphemer of his God.”

A disgusting specimen of the audacious falsehoods of the _blaspheming_ Foote! To use one of Whitefield’s own expressions, none but a wretched being, “_half a beast and half a devil_,” could have written “The Minor” and “The Methodist.” The following is the _Monthly Review’s_ critique on the latter of these infamous productions:――

“Mr. Foote’s ‘Minor’ is the foundation of this despicable superstructure, by means of which the scandalous abuse of Mr. Whitefield, under the opprobrious name of Dr. Squintum, is carried to such a height, as, in our judgment, reflects the utmost disgrace upon literature.”[483]

It is mournful to relate, that the wretched Foote hunted Whitefield, with undiminished hatred, to the end of Whitefield’s life. Two months after the great preacher’s death, in 1770, Foote was acting “The Minor” in the theatre at Edinburgh. The first night’s audience was large; but the indecency of the piece so shocked the people, that, at the following night’s performance, only ten of the female sex had effrontery sufficient to witness such profane impurity. Meanwhile, the news arrived of Whitefield’s decease, and loud was the outcry against ridiculing the man after he was dead. The Revs. Dr. Erskine, Dr. Walker, and Mr. Baine denounced Foote’s outrageous behaviour from their respective pulpits. “How base and ungrateful,” exclaimed the last-mentioned minister, “is such treatment of the dead! and that, too, so very nigh to a family of orphans, the records of whose hospital will transmit Mr. Whitefield’s name to posterity with honour, when the memory of others will rot. How illiberal such usage of one, whose seasonable good services for his king and country are well known; and whose indefatigable labours for his beloved Master were countenanced by heaven!”[484]

Here, while the buffoon, as it were, gesticulates, capers, and makes grimaces over Whitefield’s corpse, we take our leave of Foote for ever.

Before passing from the year 1760, one more publication must be mentioned. Its title was “Pious Aspirations for the use of Devout Communicants, either before, at, or after the Time of Receiving. Founded on the History of the Sufferings of Christ, as related by the Four Evangelists. Extracted from the English Edition of the three Volumes of the Rev. Mr. J. Rambach, late Professor of Divinity in the University of Giessen. By George Whitefield, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1760.” (12mo. 104 pp.) This little book is often beautiful, and always intensely earnest and devout.

The first glimpse of Whitefield, in 1761, is on February 21, when he wrote as follows:――

“London. The distance that Plymouth lies from London, is one great cause of my coming there so seldom. What can I do, who have so many calls, and so few assistants? London must be minded; for, surely, there the word runs, and is glorified more and more. I returned in post-haste, last month, from Bristol. Both in going and coming, dear Mr. H―――― and I were in great jeopardy. Once the machine fell over; and, at another time, we were obliged to leap out of the post-chaise, though going very fast. Blessed be God, we received little hurt. Good was to be done. On the Fast-day, near £600 were collected for the German and Boston sufferers. Grace! grace! I wish you had collected at Bristol. When can you move? Pray let me know directly. I want my wife to ride as far as Plymouth. Nothing but exercise will do with her.”

The general fast, here mentioned, was held on Friday, February 13. On that day, Whitefield preached early in the morning, at the Tabernacle, from Exodus xxxiv. 1, etc., and collected £112. In the forenoon, at Tottenham Court Road, he selected, as his text, “Blow the trumpet in Zion, sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly.” Here the collection was £242. In the evening, he preached again in the Tabernacle, choosing for his text, “The Lord said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation.” The third collection amounted to £210.[485] The ridicule of Foote, so far from lessening, had increased Whitefield’s popularity. On the day in question, not only did his congregations crowd the two chapels, but comprised an assemblage of the aristocracy of England rarely witnessed in a Methodist meeting-house. Among others present, there were the Countess of Huntingdon, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Fanny Shirley, Lord Halifax, Lord Holdernesse, Secretary of State; Lord Bute, who soon succeeded him in his office; the Duke of Grafton, then rising rapidly into public life; Lady Harrington; Charles Fox then a boy, but, afterwards, the celebrated statesman and orator; William Pitt, Lord Villiers, and Soame Jennys, who held office in the Board of Trade, and acquired imperishable fame by his “View of the Internal Evidences of the Christian Religion.” The collections, made on the occasion, were for a twofold purpose, partly for the benefit of the plundered Protestants in the Marche of Brandenburg, and partly to relieve the distresses of the inhabitants of Boston, in New England, where a fire had destroyed nearly four hundred dwelling-houses. No wonder that they amounted to upwards of £560.[486]

Soon after this, Whitefield received assistance in his London work, from Berridge, of Everton, late moderator of Cambridge. Hence the following extracts from his letters:――

“LONDON, _February 23, 1761_.

“The Redeemer’s work is upon the advance. All opposition is over-ruled for the furtherance of the gospel. A new instrument is raised up out of Cambridge University. He has been here preaching like an angel of the churches.”

Again, to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“LONDON, _March 14, 1761_.

“One Mr. Berridge, late moderator of Cambridge, has been preaching here with great flame. The awakening is rather greater than ever. Satan’s artillery has done but little execution.

“‘Thoughts are vain against the Lord, All subserve His standing word; Wheels encircling wheels must run, Each in course to bring it on. Hallelujah!’”

The truth is, Whitefield needed help. During his late visit to the city of Bristol, he had caught a cold, which so seriously affected his health, that, in one of the London newspapers, it was announced that he was dead.[487] His illness disabled him during the whole of the months of March and April. Hence the following, from _Lloyd’s Evening Post_:――

“April 13. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield is so well recovered from his late illness, that he appeared abroad on Saturday last.

“April 29. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield was so well on Sunday, as to assist in administering the sacrament of the Lord’s supper.”

The following letters were written when Whitefield was convalescent:――

“CANONBURY HOUSE, _April 27, 1761_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――Accept a few lines of love unfeigned from a worthless worm, just returning ♦from the borders of the eternal world. O into what a world was I launching! But the prayers of God’s people have brought me back. Lord Jesus, let it be for Thy glory, and the welfare of precious and immortal souls! O how ought ministers to work before the night of sickness and death comes, when no man can work! You will not cease to pray for me, who am indeed less than the least of all. Weakness forbids my enlarging. Hearty love to all who are so kind as to enquire after a hell-deserving, but redeemed, creature. Not only pray, but also give thanks to the never-failing Emmanuel, who has been ease in pain, health in sickness, life in death, to yours, for His great name’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

The next was addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow.

“CANONBURY HOUSE, _May 2, 1761_.

“Indeed, my dear friend, the news you have heard was true. I have been at the very gates of what is commonly called death. They seemed opening to admit me, through the alone righteousness of the blessed Jesus, into everlasting life. But, at present, they are closed again. For what end, an all-wise Redeemer can only tell. I have, since my illness, once assisted a little at the Lord’s supper, and once have spoken a little in public. But my locks are cut. Natural strength fails. Jesus can renew; Jesus can cause to grow again. By His divine permission, I have thoughts of seeing Scotland. If I relapse, that will be a desirable place to go to heaven from. I love, I love the dear people of Scotland! Ten thousand thanks to you, and all my dear Glasgow friends.”

It is a disgraceful fact, that, while Whitefield was thus tottering back from the margin of the grave, the _St. James’s Chronicle_, of April 28, filled a column and a half of its folio sheet, with what it was pleased to call “Similes, Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” Only the last in the list shall be given.

“I will tell you the very picture of damned souls in hell. Have you never seen a potter’s oven, where he bakes his pots? Now the longer these pots bake, the harder they grow. Just so does one of these damned souls. God keep you and me, dear brethren, from ever being one of their unhappy number! (Sighing by the people.)”

For the next twelve months, Whitefield was an invalid, and, with a few exceptions, was obliged to refrain from preaching. The following extracts from his letters are painfully interesting. His health was gone, and yet, when he could, he tried to preach.

“PLYMOUTH, _June 5, 1761_.

“Through Divine mercy, I am somewhat improved in my health since my leaving London. At Bristol, I grew sensibly better, but hurt myself by too long journeys to Exeter and hither. However, blessed be God! I am now recovered from my fatigue, and hope bathing will brace me up for my glorious Master’s use again. The few times I have been enabled to preach, the infinitely condescending Redeemer has breathed upon the word. Who knows but I may get my wings again? Abba, Father, all things are possible with Thee!”

“BRISTOL, _June 11, 1761_.

“These few lines leave me rather hurt by my late western journey. I strive to put out to sea as usual, but my shattered bark will not bear it. If this air does not agree with me, I think of returning, in a few days, to my old nurses and physicians. Blessed be God for an interest in an infinitely great, infinitely gracious, and sympathising, unchangeable Physician! I hope you and yours enjoy much of His heart-cheering consolations. These have been my support in my younger days; these will be my cordials in the latter stages of the road. Jesus lives when ministers die.”

In the beginning of July, Whitefield had returned to London. Meanwhile, news had arrived of the English fleets having taken Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany, and Dominica in the West Indies. Pondicherry, also, the capital settlement of the French in the East Indies, had been surrendered to the British troops, and the English were left undisputed masters of the rich coast of Coromandel, and of the whole trade of the vast Indian Peninsula, from the Ganges to the Indus. Considering how, for the last quarter of a century, Whitefield’s whole soul had been absorbed in the great work of preaching Christ and saving souls, it is curious to see him so profoundly interested in the war which was now raging in the four quarters of the earth, and in the victories won by the British arms. Hence the following:――

“London, July 6, 1761. Blessed be God, I am better! Blessed be God that you are so likewise! Who knows what rest and time may produce? Oh to be blanks in the hands of Jesus! When shall this once be? What good news by sea and land! Grace! Grace!”

Wesley was now in Yorkshire, and was anxious about the health of his old and much-loved friend. He had been in company with Venn, who had become vicar of Huddersfield, and Venn had created fears that Whitefield’s labours and life were almost ended. Hence, in a letter to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, the London banker, Wesley wrote:――

“Bradford, July 16, 1761. Mr. Venn informs me that Mr. Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote to me lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. Perhaps, sir, you can send me better news concerning him. What need have we, while we do live, to live in earnest!”[488]

For weeks after this, Whitefield was almost entirely silent. To an afflicted friend, he wrote:――

“LONDON, _October 13, 1761_.

“MY DEAR FELLOW-PRISONER,――I hope the all-wise Redeemer is teaching us to be content to be buried ourselves, and to bury our friends. This is a hard but important lesson. I have not preached a single sermon for some weeks. Last Sunday, I spoke a little; but I have felt its effects ever since. Father, Thy will be done! Glory be to God, that some good was done at Plymouth! The news drove me to my knees, and stirred up an ambition to be employed again. I have met with changes. My two old servants are married, and gone. Mr. E――――” (query John Edwards?) “has preached for me some time. As yet, the congregations are kept up.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield set out for Edinburgh, to obtain medical advice. While halting at Leeds, he received news of the death of one of his assistants at Bethesda; and wrote as follows:――

“Leeds, October 24, 1761. I am still in this dying world, but frequently tempted to wish the report of my death had been true, since my disorder keeps me from my old delightful work of preaching. But Jesus can teach us to exercise our passive as well as active graces. Fain would I say, ‘Thy will be done!’ I know now what nervous disorders are. Blessed be God that they were contracted in His service! I am riding for my health; but I think a voyage would brace me up. I impute my present disorder, in a great measure, to the want of my usual sea voyages.

“What sudden changes here! O that my great change were come! Happy Polhill! Bethesda’s loss is thy gain! To be carried to heaven in an instant; from a ship’s cabin into Abraham’s bosom; O what a blessing! God sanctify and make up the loss! We shall find few Polhills.

“I see you are running in arrears. Some way or other, I trust, they will be discharged. But I would have the family reduced as low as can be. The keeping of those who are grown up hurts them, and increases my expense. I have little comfort in many whom I have assisted. But our reward is with the Lord. I can at present bear very little of outward cares.”

Five days later, Whitefield had reached Newcastle, where he wrote the following to Mr. Robert Keen, of London:――

“NEWCASTLE, _October 29, 1761_.

“MY DEAR STEADY FRIEND,――Hitherto the Lord has helped me. Surely His mercy endureth for ever. I bear riding sixty miles a day in a post-chaise quite well. Friends, both here and at Leeds, are prudent, and do not press me to preach much. But, I hope, I am travelling in order to preach. If not, Lord Jesus help me to drink the bitter cup of a continued silence with a holy resignation, believing that what is, is best! Everywhere, as I came along, my spiritual children gladly received me. I hope you go on well at London. It is the Jerusalem――the Goshen. To-morrow, I may set forwards towards Edinburgh.”

At Edinburgh, Whitefield consulted four eminent physicians.[489] There are only two more letters to tell the remainder of his story during the year 1761: the first addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow; the second to Mr. Robert Keen, of London.

“Edinburgh, November 9, 1761. Though I have been very ill since my coming to Edinburgh, yet I must come to see my dear friends at Glasgow. I cannot be there till noon on the 12th inst. Little, very little, can be expected from a dying man.”

“Leeds, December 1, 1761. It is near ten at night and I am to set off to-morrow in the Leeds stage for London. Silence is enjoined me for a while by the Edinburgh physicians. They say my case is then recoverable. The great Physician will direct.”

The poor fellow apparently was dying; but, even under such circumstances, his enemies could not restrain their malice. It is a painful thing to advert again to hostile publications, but Whitefield’s history cannot be fully told without it. Some, belonging to 1761, have been already noticed; others, unfortunately, are, as yet, unmentioned:――

1. “A Funeral Discourse, occasioned by the much-lamented Death of Mr. Yorick, Prebendary of Y――k, and Author of the much-admired ‘Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.’ Preached before a very mixed Society of _Jemmies_, _Jessamies_, _Methodists_, and _Christians_, at a nocturnal meeting in Petticoat Lane; and now Published, at the unanimous request of the hearers, by Christopher Flagellan, A.M. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.) It is enough to say that this profane and filthy production was dedicated to “the Right Honourable the Lord F――――g, and _to the very facetious Mr. Foote_!”

2. “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a Methodist Teacher of the Word. Containing an Account of the many Marvellous Adventures which befel him in his way from the town of Kingston-upon-Hull to the City of York. London, 1761.” (8vo. 32 pp.) This was an infamous production, full of burlesque and banter; but the foot-note, at the end of it, will be quite enough to satisfy the reader’s craving:――

“As Snip’s manuscript concludes thus abruptly, I beg leave to finish the whole with an account of what I observed at a puppet show, exhibited at one of the principal towns in the west of Yorkshire. Punch was introduced in the character of Parson Squintum, the field-preacher, holding forth to a number of wooden-headed puppets, mostly composed of old women and ungartered journeymen of different callings. The more noise Punch (_alias_ Squintum) made, the more the audience sighed and groaned. At last, _Squintum_ said something about _a woman with the moon under her feet_, and pointed up to the sky, on which he desired them to fix their eyes with steadfastness. They did so; and, while their eyes were thus fixed, he very fairly picked all their pockets, and stole off. Oh, Punch, Punch! Thou Alexander the Coppersmith! thou Ananias Inlignante! what will become of thee hereafter, for thus vilifying the _Inspired of Heaven_, the _Grand Obstetrix_ of those _chosen few_, who are _impregnate_ with the _New Birth_!”

3. A third of these malignant productions _professed_ to have for its author the most notorious quack of the age, “Dr. Rock,” and was entitled, “A Letter to the Reverend Mr. G――e Wh――――d, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford.” (12mo. 8 pp.) The purport of this bantering tract was, a proposal that, as Rock and Whitefield were both quacks, they should enter into partnership. The thing displayed cleverness,――perhaps too great to affiliate it on the great empiric. One or two extracts must suffice:――

“If you set up for a copy of St. Paul (as it is observed you do, even to the mimicking of Raphael’s picture of him at Hampton Court), I do the same by the old stager――_Hypocrites_, I think they call him. If you undertake to cleanse and purify the soul, I do the like by the body. If you are an enemy to the regular drones of your profession, I am as much to those of ours. If you profess to serve the public for the sake of the public, so do I. Do you pocket the fee when it is offered?――I do the same. Are the mob your customers?――they are mine likewise. Are you called a quack in _doctrinals_?――I bear the same reproach in practice. Are you the scorn and jest of men of sense?――I want but very little of being as much their jest and scorn as you. In a word, as it is said that you turn the brains of your patients, it is affirmed, with equal truth, that I destroy the constitutions of mine.”

Supposing Whitefield might have objections to the proposed partnership, Rock pretends that he has objections too; for, says he:――

“Nobody, I thank God, can upbraid me with devouring widows’ houses; leading captive silly women; confounding the peace and ruining the substance of families; preaching up Christ, and playing the devil; blindly recommending charity, and, at the same time, guilty of the worst oppression by squeezing the last mite out of the pockets of the poor.”

Dr. Rock concludes by stating that Whitefield “is a public pest, an incendiary of the worst kind, and a deceiver of the people.”

This was bad to bear, especially for a man in Whitefield’s state of health; but more must follow:――

4. “The Crooked Disciple’s Remarks upon the Blind Guide’s Method of Preaching for some years; being a Collection of the Principal Words, Sayings, Phraseology, Rhapsodies, Hyperboles, Parables, and Miscellaneous Incongruities of the Sacred and Profane, commonly, repeatedly, and peculiarly made use of by the Reverend Dr. Squintum, delivered by him, _viva voce ex Cathedra_, at Tottenham Court, Moorfields, etc. A work never before attempted. Taken _verbatim_ from a constant attendance. Whereby the honesty of this Preacher’s intentions may be judged of from his own doctrine. By the learned John Harman, Regulator of Enthusiasts. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.)

This was one of the vilest pamphlets ever published. Its trash cannot be quoted. It is enough to say that, besides “A Short Specimen of the Rev. Dr. Squintum’s Extemporary Sermons,” it contains what it calls one of Whitefield’s prayers, prefaced thus:――

“The following preamble is Dr. Squintum’s fervent, solemn form of prayer; delivered by him in an attitude similar to that of _Ajax_, in _Ovid’s Metamorphoses_. His body erect, his hands extended, his face thrown upwards, with his eyes gazing towards the stars. _Torvo vulto, tendens ad sidera palmas._ Alternately changing from his theatrical astonishments into violent enthusiastical agitations and distortions, accompanied with weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth! _Strange vicissitudes!_ which he strictly keeps up to, throughout the whole of his preaching.”

5. “The Spiritual Minor. A Comedy. London.” (8vo. 32 pp.) Another infamous production, with a “Prologue,” by Mrs. Cole, and an “Epilogue,” by Dr. Squintum. The _dramatis personæ_ are Mr. Squintum, Mr. Rakish, Mr. Screamwell, Mr. Scruple, Mr. Cheatwell, Feeble, Mrs. Cole, and Miss Ogle.

All this is extremely loathsome, and worthy of Foote, the comedian. Two other names, much more respectable than Doctor Rock and John Harman, must now be introduced.

6. Jonas Hanway, the distinguished merchant, traveller, and philanthropist, was now in the fiftieth year of his age. Eight years before, he had published his travels, in four 4to. volumes, under the title of “An Historical Account of the Caspian Trade over the Caspian Sea; with a Journal of Travels from London, through Russia, into Persia, etc.; to which are added the Revolutions of Persia during the present Century, with the particular History of the Great Usurper, Nadir Kouli.” In 1754, he called the attention of the Government to the bad state of the streets in London and Westminster. In 1756, he took steps which ultimately led to the establishment of the Marine Society. In 1758, he made strenuous exertions to improve the Foundling, and to establish the Magdalen Hospitals. And now, in 1761, he published “Reflections, Essays, and Meditations on Life and Religion; with a Collection of Proverbs in Alphabetical Order; and Twenty-eight Letters, written occasionally on several subjects――viz., The Absurd Notions of the Sect called Methodists; The Customs of foreign Nations in regard to Harlots; The Lawless Commerce of the Sexes; The Repentance of Prostitutes; And the great Humanity and Beneficence of the Magda_lane_ Charity. By Mr. Hanway. London, 1761.” (Two vols., 8vo., pp. 280 and 317.)

As Mr. Hanway became so notable a man, that, two years after his death, a monument, by public subscription, was erected to his memory, in Westminster Abbey; his sentiments on Whitefield deserve insertion. At all events, the critique of the benevolent old bachelor, who had the courage to be the first who appeared in the streets of London carrying an umbrella, will, perhaps, amuse the reader.

“I intended, a long while since,” says he, “to hear Mr. Whitefield at Tottenham Court, and I have at length compassed my design. The _prayers_ were performed with as much devotion as one generally finds at any church, and, as well as I remember, without any _excursions_ foreign to the Church Service. Fame had represented him to me as a great _orator_; but in this I was a little disappointed, not but he performs, upon the whole, _tolerably well_. The _tunes_ and _concordance_ of the singing are also very _proper_ and agreeable; though I thought that _psalms_, or _anthems_, would be better than _hymns_; or the true harmony of sense and numbers, than such _poor poetry_ as was sung.

“When he began his _sermon_, the oddness of some of his _conceits_, his _manner_, and turn of _expression_, had I not been in a place of public _worship_, would have excited my laughter. As he went on, I became _serious_, then _astonished_, and at length _confounded_. My confusion arose from a mixture of _sorrow and indignation_, that any man bearing the name of a _minister_ of our _meek and blessed Redeemer_, or the dignity of the _Christian priesthood_, should demean himself like an inhabitant of _Bedlam_. I thought I saw human nature in distress, as much as in the cells of _lunatics_; with this difference, that he was permitted to go abroad, and make others as _mad_ as himself; which he might be able to accomplish by means of the _credulity of his audience_, joined to the _art_ of making them think that himself and his _fraternity_ are the only people _in their senses_.

“I must inform you, that, opposite to this _celebrated_ preacher, sat a dozen or more of old women, of that class who, within this half-century, might easily have been persuaded, by _threats_ or _promises_, that they had rode in the air on _broomsticks_, and, confessing it, might have been put to death by people as much bewitched as themselves. Their intellectual powers are so far decayed, that they do not distinguish between _receiving alms_, in relief of their misery, and _receiving hire_, as _hummers and hawers_. This is the denomination given, by many sober persons, to these _old women_, some of whom, I am assured, have _confessed_ that they are retained ♦by hire, for _sighing and groaning_.”

Mr. Hanway proceeds to say that he had been to the Haymarket, to see “The Minor” acted, but “had not health, nor patience to sit out above half of it.” He adds:――

“I wish the _principles_ of the Methodists may be understood more clearly by being brought on the _stage_; but I question if the character of the _bawd_, in ‘The Minor,’ has any existence, and, if so, the whole fabric of the _drama_ is built on false grounds. If it does exist, is it so proper a subject for the theatre, as for _St. Luke’s Hospital_? This dramatic piece may possibly intimidate some from becoming _Methodists_; but, however _popular_ it may be, I am very doubtful concerning the _propriety_ of the measure, as to the end of correcting the _enthusiasm_ in question. It is said, that, this comedy ‘has shaken the _pillars of Tottenham Tabernacle_,’ and I must add, that, I believe no harm would happen were it to tumble, provided the poor people, who frequent it, were at their _work_, or saying their prayers in their parish churches.

“As to the _peruke_ and _shoemaker_ declaimers, whose recommendation is consummate impudence, warm imaginations, and the remembrance of texts which they have no capacity to understand, it would be an indignity offered to the Christian priesthood to call such persons _Teachers_ or _Preachers_ of the Gospel. And as to the _gentlemen_ of Methodistical tenets, who have had a scholastic education, how few among them are there who would not _face about to the right_, for the consideration of a good ecclesiastical benefice. I have very _particular reasons_ to believe the major part of them would conform to Church orthodoxy and _intelligible_ Christianity, if they did not find a better living in another way.”

7. So much for the eccentric Jonas Hanway. Another pamphleteer――much more able, though not so well known to fame――must now be introduced. Whitefield had already been attacked by the Bishop of London, the Bishop of Lichfield, and the Bishop of Exeter. Now, he came under the lash of the Rev. John Green, D.D., Bishop of Lincoln. In 1760, Dr. Green published an 8vo. pamphlet of seventy pages, addressed to Berridge, of Everton; but that must be passed without further notice. A year later, he issued another pamphlet with the title, “The Principles and Practices of the Methodists farther considered; in a Letter to the Reverend Mr. George Whitefield. Cambridge, 1761.” (8vo. 74 pp.) The Bishop of Lincoln wrote with great ability. The chief fault to be found with him is, that, he based his strictures upon the first editions of Whitefield’s Journals, and his “Short Account of God’s Dealings with him,” published in 1740. This was hardly fair, because Whitefield, since then, had, more than once, publicly expressed his regret for having used certain loose and extravagant expressions in these productions. Dr. Green was either not acquainted with Whitefield’s apologies, or he chose, for some hidden purpose, not to acknowledge them. Anyhow, remembering that such apologies had been made, and that Whitefield’s health was now even dangerously affected, paragraphs, like the following, were neither courteous nor fair:――

“In that curious repository of religious anecdotes, called your Journals, I have often seen and pitied the distress you have been in between strength of inclination and want of ability; when you have recited several things, which bordered on the marvellous, and which, notwithstanding, you did not care to vouch for miraculous.

“All the exalted things you have said, and all the wonderful things you have done, will pass, I fear, with many, only for the frenzy and rant of fanaticism. They will be apt to think your journeyings the effects of a roving and itinerant temper, and ascribe them to a strong tincture of that heroical passion, by which so many saints of the Romish communion have been actuated.

“Though possessed of so happy a talent at opening the hearts and purses of the people, that you were traduced under the name of ‘the Spiritual Pickpocket,’ yet you have not ventured to trust your support to the precarious offerings of voluntary contribution. Though you have not chosen to put yourself in a situation to claim any legal dues; yet you have lately dispensed your instructions, on the stipulation of certain periodical payments, and under the sanction of that unquestionable truth, ‘that the labourer is worthy of his hire.’

“We have instances on record, how an audience has been dissolved into tears by an orator, without knowing a single syllable of that which he uttered; have been moved by the efficacy of words which they did not understand, and by the goodly appearance of the speaker, whom they knew nothing of, to yield the sincerest proofs of their convictions by a liberal supply of such good things as he wanted. Some incidents of the same sort are said to have happened to yourself, and that the bare sight of your blessed gown and wig, though out of the reach of that elocution which so much surprises, and that pathos which so much moves, has not only softened the hearts and moistened the eyes, but drawn large pecuniary supplies to your charitable designs from the pity and benevolence of your female disciples.”

These were taunts unworthy of a bishop of the Established Church, and undeserved by poor afflicted Whitefield. Doubtless, they were painful; but they were patiently endured.

Whitefield’s health was somewhat better. On January 8, 1762, he wrote: “The Scotch journey did me service. I preached on New Year’s Day, and am to do so again to-morrow. I had a violent fall upon my head, from my horse, last Thursday, but was not hurt. Mr. Berridge is here, and preaches with power. Blessed be God that some can speak, though I am laid aside!”

No information exists as to how Whitefield spent the first three months of 1762. He still, however, was the subject of disgraceful persecution. During this interval, there was published a small 8vo. volume (price 2s. 6d.), entitled, “A Plain and Easy Road to the Land of Bliss, a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator ――――.” No good end would be answered by quotations from it. “It is,” said the _Monthly Review_, “contemptible for its stupidity. It is a filthy, obscene thing, for which the dirty author ought to be washed in a horse-pond.”[490]

In April, Whitefield went to Bristol, where he continued for about a month. The following extracts from his letters will shew the progress he was making:――

“Bristol, April 17, 1762. Bristol air agrees with me. I have been enabled to preach five times this last week, without being hurt. Were the door open for an American voyage, I believe it would be serviceable in bracing up my relaxed tabernacle. But He who knoweth all things, knoweth what is best. I see more and more, that grace must be tried. O for a heart to be made willing to be nothing, yea, less than nothing, that God may be all in all!”

“Bristol, April 18, 1762. Sunday. This morning I have been administering the ordinance; and this evening I hope to be upon my throne again. Who knows but I may yet be so far restored as to sound the gospel trumpet for my God? The quietness I enjoy here, with the daily riding out, seems to be one very proper means. Be this as it will, I know ere long I shall serve our Lord without weariness. A few more blows from friends, and from foes, and the pitcher will be broken. Then the wicked one will cease from troubling, and the weary traveller arrive at his wished-for rest.”

“Bristol, May 4, 1762. I see it is always darkest before the break of day. O that we could always remember that blessed promise, ‘At evening-tide it shall be light’! The archers have of late shot sorely at me and grieved me; but blessed be God for a little revival in my bondage. For these three weeks past, I have been enabled to preach four or five times a week; but you would scarce know me, I am so swollen, and so corpulent. Blessed be God for the prospect of a glorious resurrection!”

On his way back to London, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“Rodborough, May 21, 1762. I hope to be in London on Tuesday or Wednesday next. Through Divine mercy, preaching four or five times a week has not hurt me; and twice or thrice I have been enabled to take the field: in my opinion, a greater honour than to be monarch of the universe. London cares and London labours, I expect, will bring me low again; but I hope soon to slip away, and to get strength, and then to hunt for precious souls again. How gladly would I bid adieu to ceiled houses, and vaulted roofs! Mounts are the best pulpits, and the heavens the best sounding-boards. O for power equal to my will! I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the everlasting gospel of the Son of God. I write this at a house built for dear Mr. Adams.[491] From his window is a prospect perhaps of thirty miles. I have wished you here with your telescope. But if the footstool is so glorious, what must the throne be!”

“London, May 28, 1762. I am just now come to town for a few days, sensibly better for my country excursion. Once more, I have had the honour of taking the field, and have now some hopes of not being as yet quite thrown aside as a broken vessel. Help me to praise Him, whose mercy endureth for ever.”

In the month of June, Whitefield sailed to Holland, where his health was further benefited. At the end of July, he was preaching at Norwich, and wrote:――

“Norwich, July 31, 1762. The trip to Holland, last month, was profitable to myself, and, I trust, to others. If my usefulness is to be continued in London, I must be prepared for it by a longer itinerancy both by land and water. At present, blessed be God! I can preach once a day; and it would do your heart good to see what an influence attends the word. All my old times are revived again. On Monday next, God willing, I shall set forwards to Lincolnshire, Yorkshire, etc.”

Ten days after this, Whitefield attended the annual Conference of Wesley and his itinerants, in the town of Leeds. This was a notable assembly, for, besides the brave band of Wesley’s helpers, there were present the two Wesleys, Whitefield, Romaine, Madan, Venn, and, last but not least, the Countess of Huntingdon![492] Wesley wrote:――

“We had great reason to praise God for His gracious presence, from the beginning to the end.”

From Leeds, Whitefield proceeded to his beloved Scotland, where he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, September 2, 1762. I am just this moment returned from Glasgow, where I have been enabled to preach every day, and twice at Cambuslang. Auditories were large, and Jesus smiled upon my feeble labours.”

“Edinburgh, September 9. I came here a week ago. Since then, I have been helped to preach every day. The kirk has been a Bethel. Grace! Grace! On Monday, the 13th inst., I shall set off. Follow me with your prayers.”

On Sunday, September 19, Whitefield was at Sunderland;[493] and on the following Sunday at Leeds. Here he wrote to his friend, Mr. Robert Keen, as follows:――

“I am just now setting forwards towards London, but fear I cannot reach it before Sunday. My chaise wanted repairing here. O how good hath Jesus been to a worthless worm! Once a day preaching, I can bear well; more hurts me. What shall I do with the Chapel and Tabernacle? Lord Jesus, be thou my guide and helper! He will! He will! Send word to the Tabernacle that you have heard from me. We have had sweet seasons.”

The “Seven Years’ War” was now nearly ended. The campaign of 1762 was eminently successful. Frederick the Great and Prince Ferdinand had been victorious in Germany; Burgoyne had aided Portugal in repelling the Spaniards; and the English fleet and army in the West Indies had taken the Carribbean Islands and Havannah. Lord Bute, the prime minister of England, strongly desired peace, for the English people were complaining loudly of increased taxation. He engaged the neutral king of Sardinia to propose to the court of France negotiations for a termination of the war. Louis XV., like a drowning man, caught at the proposal. The Duke of Bedford was selected as plenipotentiary and ambassador extraordinary to Paris; and the high-born and gallant Duke de Nivernois came to London in the same capacity. This was in September; and the negotiations proceeded with such rapidity, that _preliminaries_ for peace were signed at Fontainebleau on the 3rd of November following.

In consequence of these events, Whitefield now had a prospect of carrying out his long-cherished wish to visit his Orphan House, and his numerous friends, across the Atlantic. He wrote, as follows, to the housekeeper of his Orphanage:――

“London, October 15, 1762. I wish to answer your letter in person. I hope the time is now drawing near. I count the weeks, and days, and hours. Blessed be God that you live in such harmony! A house thus united in Jesus will stand. I write this in great haste. I am enabled to preach once a day. Give thanks! give thanks!”

In November, Whitefield went to Bristol, where his “congregations were large, and a most gracious gale of Divine influence attended the word preached.” Having promised to visit Plymouth, he wrote to his friend there, the good Andrew Kinsman:――

“Let grand preparations be made,――as a candle, a book, and a table; above all, much prayer, that I may not again relapse at Plymouth, as the Bristol people say I shall do, by coming at this season of the year.”

On reaching Plymouth, he wrote:――

“Plymouth, December 4, 1762. Being under a positive promise to come here before I left England, I embraced this opportunity. Through mercy, I preached last night, and find no hurt this morning. Many young people, I hear, are under great awakenings. O to begin to wage an eternal war with the devil, the world, and the flesh! I would fain die sword in hand.”

Whitefield had an old trusty servant, Mrs. Elizabeth Wood,[494] to whom he wrote as follows:――

“Plymouth, December 5, 1762. You did very wrong, in not letting me know of your mother’s necessities. She was a widow indeed; but now she is above the reach of everything. I am weary of the world, of the Church, and of myself. I cannot get up to London till near Christmas Day. As affairs are there circumstanced, everything there tends to weigh me down. O that patience may have its perfect work! Let me always know your wants. It is your own fault if you lack anything, whilst I have a farthing.”

Kind-heartedness was a prominent trait in Whitefield’s character. It was during this, or some other visit to Plymouth, that an incident occurred which is worth telling. “Come,” said Whitefield to his friend and host, Andrew Kinsman, “come, let us go to some of the poor and afflicted of your flock. It is not enough that we labour in the pulpit; we must endeavour to be useful out of it.” Away the two friends went, and Whitefield not only gave counsel to those they visited, but monetary aid. Kinsman reminded him that his finances were low, and that he was more bountiful than he could afford. “Young man,” replied Whitefield, “it is not enough to pray, and to put on a serious countenance: ‘pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,’ and to administer to their wants. My stock, I grant, is nearly exhausted, but God will soon send me a fresh supply.” In the evening, a gentleman called, and asked to see Whitefield. “Sir,” said he, “I heard you preach yesterday: you are on a journey, as well as myself; and, as travelling is expensive, will you do me the honour of accepting this?” The present was five guineas, and came from a man noted for his penuriousness. “Young man,” cried Whitefield, on his return to Kinsman, “young man, God has soon repaid what I bestowed. Learn, in future, not to withhold when it is in the power of your hand to give.”[495]

Whitefield, on his way to London, halted at Bristol, and wrote to Kinsman, as follows:――

“Bristol, December 12, 1762. We got here yesterday, all well, excepting that I lost my watch in the way. If it teach me to be more on my _watch_ in the best things, the loss will be a gain. Lord, help me in everything to give thanks! I do not repent my Plymouth journey. Thanks to you all for your great kindnesses. Thanks, eternal thanks, to the God of all, for giving us His presence! It is better than life. I have not yet seen your daughter; but I hear she is well. Tell Sarah not to murder so dear a child. Hugging to death is cruelty indeed. Adieu! I must away to sacrament. O for such a one as we had last Sunday! Mind and get up in a morning to pray, before you get into shop.”

Whitefield wished to embark for America; but, before doing so, had a difficulty to encounter. He had erected two large and flourishing chapels in London, which, in consequence of the sites on which they stood being granted to himself on lease, were practically his own property. The money by which the chapels had been built was not his; and he felt that it would be unjust if, by his decease, they came into the possession of his heirs and successors. Hence, as he was hoping soon to sail, and as his health was such as to render his return to England a doubtful matter, he was anxious to have the Tabernacle and the Tottenham Court Road chapel so settled, that the purpose for which they had been erected might never be frustrated. Hence the following to Mr. Robert Keen:――

“_January 15, 1763._

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――Do meet me to-morrow, at one o’clock, at Mr. B――――n’s, Canonbury House. I have something of importance to communicate. It is to beseech you, jointly with Mr. Hardy and Mr. B――――n,[496] as trustees, to take upon you the whole care of the affairs of Tottenham Court chapel, and of the Tabernacle, and all my other concerns in England. This one thing being settled, I have nothing to retard my visit to America, to which I think there is a manifest call at this time, both as to the bracing up my poor, feeble, crazy body, and adjusting all things relating to Bethesda. Your accepting this trust will take off a ponderous load that oppresses me much.”

There can be little doubt, that, Messrs. Keen and Hardy consented to take the management of the two chapels during Whitefield’s absence in America; but it is also clear that no trust deed, transferring the chapels to these two gentlemen, was at that time executed. Hence the following clause in Whitefield’s will, dated March 22, 1770:――

“Whereas there is a building, commonly called the Tabernacle, set apart many years ago for Divine worship, I give and bequeath my said Tabernacle, with the adjacent house in which I usually reside, when in London, with the stable and coach-house in the yard adjoining, together with all books, furniture, and everything else whatsoever, that shall be found in the house and premises aforesaid; and also the buildings commonly called Tottenham Court chapel, together with all the other buildings, houses, stable, coach-house, and everything else whatsoever which I stand possessed of in that part of the town,――to my worthy, trusty, tried friends, Daniel West, Esq., in Church Street, Spitalfields, and Mr. Robert Keen, woollen-draper in the Minories, or the longer survivor of the two.”

This is a curious clause. In the year of his decease, Whitefield evidently believed the London chapels and their adjacent premises to be his own property, but he had no wish for them to pass to his representatives and heirs. His desire was that they should be used in perpetuity, for preaching the same glorious gospel, as he had preached for more than the last thirty years; and hence the above bequest. The oddness of the thing, however, is, that Whitefield’s will created no _trust_; and that, by it, these two chapels became as absolutely the property of Messrs. West and Keen as they had been his own.

It is only right to add, that, in making his will, Whitefield was his own lawyer. At all events, the will was in his own handwriting. And, further, it is due to Mr. West and Mr. Keen to say, that, though they might have appropriated this property to their own private use, they faithfully carried out the intentions of Whitefield, and managed the chapels, not for their own benefit, but, for the glory of God and the good of their fellow-men. Mr. Keen died on January 30, 1793; and Mr. West on September 30, 1796.[497] The last-mentioned gentleman, as the survivor of the two “trusty friends” mentioned in Whitefield’s will, bequeathed the property to Samuel Foyster and John Wilson, both of them well known in the Christian world. This, however, is not the place to pursue the history of the glorious old Tabernacle in Moorfields, and of the aristocratic chapel in Tottenham Court Road.

Whitefield took leave of his London congregations on Wednesday, February 23, when he preached a farewell sermon, from “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.” In the earlier parts of this biography, lengthened extracts were given from Whitefield’s sermons, for the purpose of conveying an idea of the character of his preaching, at that period of his ministry. For the same purpose, other extracts from sermons, belonging to the present date, may be given here.

In the sermon, preached on February 23, 1763, Whitefield is reported as having said:――

“‘The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you _all_.’ It is not said, all ministers, or all of this or that particular people; but with all believers. Mr. Henry said, he desired to be a Catholic, but not a Roman Catholic. There is a great reservoir of water from which this great city is supplied; but how is it supplied? Why, by hundreds and hundreds of pipes. Does the water go only to the Dissenters, or to the Church people,――only to this or that people? No: the pipes convey the water to all; and, I remember, when I saw the reservoir, it put me in mind of the great reservoir of grace, the living water that is in Christ Jesus.

“What a horrid blunder has the Bishop of Gloucester been guilty of! What do you think his lordship says, in order to expose the fanaticism of the Methodists? ‘Why,’ says he, ‘they say they cannot understand the Scriptures without the Spirit of God.’ Can any man understand the Scriptures without the Spirit of God helps him? Jesus Christ must open our understanding to understand them. The Spirit of God must take of the things of Christ, and shew them unto us. So, also, with respect to all ordinances. What signifies my preaching, and your hearing, if the Spirit of God does not enlighten? I declare I would not preach again, if I did not think that God would accompany the word by His Spirit.”

“Are any of you here unconverted? No doubt too many. Are any of you come this morning, out of curiosity, to hear what the babbler has to say? Many, perhaps, are glad it is my last sermon, and that London is to be rid of such a monster; but surely you cannot be angry with me for my wishing that the grace of God may be with you all. O that it may be with every unconverted soul! O man! what wilt thou do if the grace of God is not with thee? My brethren, you cannot do without the grace of God when you come to die. Do you know that without this you are nothing but devils incarnate? Do you know that every moment you are liable to eternal pains? Don’t say I part with you in an ill humour. Don’t say that a madman left you with a curse. Blessed be God! when I first became a field-preacher, I proclaimed the grace of God to the worst of sinners; and I proclaim it now to the vilest sinner under heaven. Could I speak so loud that the whole world might hear me, I would declare that the grace of God is free for all who are willing to accept of it by Christ. God make you all willing this day!”

Was Whitefield still a Calvinist? Language like this can hardly be harmonized with Whitefield’s holding the doctrine of election, and, by consequence, the doctrine of reprobation. Two or three extracts from other sermons, preached at this period of his history, may be useful.

“Woe! woe! woe! to those who, in the hour of death, cannot say, ‘God is my refuge.’ O what will you do, when the elements shall melt with fervent heat? when the earth with all its furniture shall be burnt up? when the archangel shall proclaim, ‘Time shall be no more!’ Whither then, ye wicked ones, ye unconverted ones, will ye flee for refuge? ‘O,’ says one, ‘I will flee to the mountains.’ Silly fool! flee to the mountains, that are themselves to be burnt up! ‘O,’ say you, ‘I will flee to the sea.’ That will be boiling! ‘I will flee to the elements.’ They will be melting with fervent heat. I know of but one place you can go to, that is to the devil. God keep you from that! Make God your refuge. If you stop short of this, you will only be a sport for devils. There is no river to make glad the inhabitants of hell: no streams to cool them in that scorching element. Were those in hell to have such an offer of mercy as you have, how would their chains rattle! how would they come with the flames of hell about their ears! Fly! sinner, fly! God help thee to fly to Himself for refuge! Hark! hear the word of the Lord! See the world consumed! See the avenger of blood at thy heels! If thou dost not take refuge in God to-night, thou mayest to-morrow be damned for ever.[498]

“Tremble for fear God should remove His candlestick from among you. Labourers are sick. Those who did once labour are almost worn out; and others bring themselves into a narrow sphere, and so confine their usefulness. There are few who like to go out into the fields. Broken heads and dead cats are no longer the ornaments of a Methodist. These honourable badges are now no more. Languor has got from the ministers to the people; and, if you don’t take care, we shall all be dead together. The Lord Jesus rouse us! Ye Methodists of many years’ standing, shew the young ones, who have not the cross to bear as we once had, what ancient Methodism was.[499]

“Don’t be angry with a poor minister for weeping over them who will not weep for themselves. If you laugh at me, I know Jesus smiles. I am free from the blood of you all. If you are damned for want of conversion, remember you are not damned for want of warning. You are gospel-proof; and, if there is one place in hell deeper than another, God will order a gospel-despising Methodist to be put there. God convert you from lying a-bed in the morning! God convert you from conformity to the world! God convert you from lukewarmness! Do not get into a cursed Antinomian way of thinking, and say, ‘I thank God, I have the root of the matter in me! I thank God, I was converted twenty or thirty years ago; and, though I can go to a public-house, and play at cards, yet, I am converted; for once in Christ, always in Christ,’ Whether you were converted formerly or not, you are perverted now. Would you have Jesus Christ catch you napping, with your lamps untrimmed? Suffer the word of exhortation. I preach feelingly. I could be glad to preach till I preached myself dead, if God would convert you. I seldom sleep after three in the morning; and I pray every morning, ‘Lord, convert me, and make me more a new creature to-day!’”

These extracts are neither eloquent, nor particularly instructive; but they serve to shew the declamatory and colloquial style used by Whitefield in the latter period of his ministry. His sermons were _earnest talk_, full of anecdotes, and ejaculatory prayers.

It is only just to add, that the sermons, from which the foregoing extracts are taken, were not written and published by Whitefield himself, nor yet with his permission. They were “taken verbatim in shorthand, and faithfully transcribed by Joseph Gurney;” and were “Revised by Andrew Gifford, D.D.” The sermons, in Gurney’s volume, issued in 1771, were eighteen in number; but, two or three were published separately previous to that. To one of these, Whitefield raised strong objections. “It is not _verbatim_,” said he; “in some places Mr. Gurney makes me to speak false concord, and even nonsense.”[500] The publication of Gurney’s volume (8vo. 455 pp.) created great unpleasantness. In the first instance, Whitefield’s executors consented to the publication, and agreed to remunerate the transcriber for his labour; but, when half the sermons were “worked off,” they were so dissatisfied with them, that they informed the shorthand writer, they were “not able to recommend them to the public.” No doubt, the objections of the executors were well founded; but still, though the sermons might not be reported with perfect accuracy, they may be fairly taken as a specimen――though an imperfect one――of Whitefield’s style of preaching during the last few years of his eventful life.

After his farewell sermon, at the Tabernacle, on February 23, Whitefield set out for Scotland. On his way, he preached for Berridge at Everton;[501] Berridge, together with Thomas Adams, having engaged to supply his place in London.[502] He visited Sheffield, and preached in Wesley’s, unplastered, though white-washed, chapel in Mulberry Street, taking as his text, Romans v. 11. Here, as in the extract above given, he warned the people against resting satisfied with a _past_ conversion. “In your Bibles,” said he, “you have registered your births; and some of you the time when you were born again; but are you new creatures _now_?”[503]

On March 4, he arrived at Leeds, and here, besides preaching, he employed himself in writing his “Observations on some Fatal Mistakes, in a Book lately published, and entitled, ‘The Doctrine of Grace; or, the Office and Operations of the Holy Spirit Vindicated from the Insults of Infidelity and the Abuses of Fanaticism. By William, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.’ In a Letter to a Friend. By George Whitefield, A.M., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1763.” (12mo. 35 pp.)[504]

This was, I believe, the first instance in which, in England, A.M. was attached to Whitefield’s name; and even now the degree, conferred by New Jersey College in 1754, was not appropriated by Whitefield himself, but was foolishly used by his friends, who printed his pamphlet after he embarked for America.

So far as the Methodists were concerned, the book of Bishop Warburton was levelled against Wesley, rather than against Whitefield. The worst, indeed, almost the only sneer against Whitefield, was, that, though both Wesley and he were mad, Whitefield was “the madder of the two.” Wesley’s reply to Warburton was published in a 12mo. volume of 144 pages; but, with a single exception, need not be quoted here. In answer to one of the Bishop’s contemptuous remarks, that Whitefield set up himself as Wesley’s rival, Wesley says: “We were[505] in full union; nor was there the least shadow of rivalry or contention between us. I still sincerely ‘praise God for His wisdom in giving different talents to different preachers;’ and particularly for His giving Mr. Whitefield the talents which I have not.”

Whitefield’s “Observations” were smartly and rather ably written; but two extracts must suffice. He admits that the “modern defenders of Christianity, in their elaborate and well-meant treatises, against the attacks of Infidels and Free-thinkers, have shewn themselves, as far as human learning is concerned, to be masters of strong reasoning, nervous language, and conclusive arguments;” but they lacked a “deep and experimental knowledge of themselves, and of Jesus Christ.” With regard to Bishop Warburton in particular, he affirms, that, his lordship, “in his great zeal against fanaticism, and to the no small encouragement of infidelity, has, as far as perverted reason and disguised sophistry could carry him, robbed the Church of Christ of its promised Comforter; and, thereby, left us without any supernatural influence or Divine operations whatsoever” (pp. 5, 6). Then turning to Warburton’s abuse of the Methodists, Whitefield remarks:――

“To set these off in a ridiculous light, this writer runs from Dan to Beersheba; gives us quotation upon quotation out of the Rev. Mr. John Wesley’s Journals; and, to use his own simile upon another occasion, by a kind of Egyptian husbandry, draws together whole droves of obscene animals, of his own formation, who rush in furiously, and then trample the Journals, and this sect, under their feet. Our author calls the Rev. Mr. John Wesley ‘paltry mimic, spiritual empiric, spiritual martialist, new adventurer.’ The Methodists, according to him, are ‘modern apostles, the saints, new missionaries, and illuminated doctors.’ Methodism itself is modern saintship; Mr. Law begat it; Count Zinzendorf rocked the cradle; and the devil himself was midwife to their new-birth” (p. 24).

In reference to Wesley’s Journals and his own, Whitefield says:――

“Whatever that indefatigable labourer, the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, may think of his, I have long since publicly acknowledged that there were, and doubtless, though now sent forth in a more correct attire, there are yet many exceptionable passages in my Journals. And I hope it will be one of the constant employments of my declining years to humble myself daily before the Most High God, for the innumerable mixtures of corruption which have blended themselves with my feeble, but, I trust, sincere endeavours to promote the Redeemer’s glory. If his lordship had contented himself with pointing out, or even ridiculing, any such blemishes, imprudences, or mistakes, in my own, or in any of the Methodists’ conduct or performances, I should have stood entirely silent. But when I observed his lordship, through almost his whole book, not only wantonly throwing about the arrows and firebrands of scurrility, buffoonery, and personal abuse, but, at the same time, taking occasion to vilify, and totally deny the operations of the blessed Spirit, by which alone his lordship, or any other man, can be sanctified and sealed to the day of eternal redemption, I must own that I was constrained to vent myself to you, as a dear and intimate friend, in the manner I have done. Make what use of it you please.

“At present, I am on the road to Scotland, in order to embark for America; and only add, that the method used by his lordship to stop, will rather serve to increase and establish what he is pleased to term a ‘sect of fanatics.’ Bishop Burnet prescribed a much better way to stop the progress of the Puritan ministers. ‘_Out-live, out-labour, out-preach_ them,’ said his lordship. That the Rev. Mr. John Wesley himself, that famed leader of the Methodists, and every Methodist preacher in England may be thus outed and entirely annihilated is, and shall be, the hearty prayer of George Whitefield” (pp. 33–35).

Having completed his pamphlet at Leeds, Whitefield proceeded to Newcastle, where he wrote:――

“NEWCASTLE, _March 13, 1763_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――I cannot go further without dropping you a few lines. They leave me thus far advanced in my journey to Scotland. My friends write me word, that the ship _Jenny_, Captain Orr, a very discreet person, sails from Greenock to Boston the middle of April. You will pray that the God of the sea and dry land will give me a safe and speedy passage. On the road, we have been favoured with some sweet seasons. I have preached at Everton, Leeds, Kippax, Aberford, and this place. Next Sabbath I hope to be at Edinburgh. On my way, I finished a little thing in answer to the present Bishop of Gloucester. If my friends think proper to print it, you will find a testimony left behind me for the good old Puritans and free-grace Dissenters, whom he sadly maligns.”

Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh, as he expected; but, instead of sailing in the middle of April, his embarkation was deferred until the 4th of June. During this unexpected detention, his old friend Wesley came to Scotland, and wrote: “Sunday, May 22. At Edinburgh, I had the satisfaction of spending a little time with Mr. Whitefield. Humanly speaking, he is worn out; but we have to do with Him who hath all power in heaven and earth.”[506] Though “worn out,” Whitefield continued preaching, as often as he could. He spent eleven weeks in Scotland, and, towards the end of that interval, had an alarming illness. In _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for June 6, it was announced, “The Rev. Mr. Whitefield is so ill in Scotland, as not to be able to embark for America.” But, four days later, the same journal contained the following: “Last week, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, being recovered from his indisposition, sailed from Greenock, on board the _Fanny_, Captain Galbraith, bound to Rappahanock, in Virginia.”[507]

The best glimpses of Whitefield, during his stay in Scotland, will be obtained by brief extracts from his letters. To his old servant, Elizabeth Wood, he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, March 19. I was quite concerned to see you so ill. I charge you to want for nothing. Speak to Messrs. Keen and Hardy: they will supply you at any time. Do not be afraid to go near the Tabernacle House. I will own and stand by my dear, steady, and faithful servants and helpers. Such a one you have been. O for heaven! There are no thorns and briars amongst God’s people there. In about a month, I expect to sail.”

In a letter to a friend, he said:――

“Edinburgh, March 26, 1763. After my return from Glasgow, I may be here a fortnight. My poor body is so far restored, that I can mount the gospel throne once a day. Perhaps the sea air may brace me up a little more; but, after all, it is only like the glimmering of a candle before it goes out. Death will light it up in a better world. O that I had done more for the blessed Jesus! O that I could think more of what He has done for me! The Edinburgh prescriptions have been blessed to me. My spirits are much brisker than when here last.”

To Mr. Keen, who now, in conjunction with Mr. Hardy, had the management of his London chapels, Whitefield wrote:――

“Edinburgh, March 26, 1763. I thank you for your kind letter; and thank the Lord of all lords that matters go on so well. I am more than easy. The Lord has directed my choice, and will bless, assist, and reward those employed. Ten thousand thanks to you all. You may act as you please with respect to Mr. ――――. His attending the Tabernacle when I was well, and leaving it ever since I have been sick, does not look well at all; but please yourselves, and you will please me. Do not consult me in anything, unless absolutely necessary. On Monday, I am going to see about the ship. I am sorry my little piece, entitled ‘_Observations_,’ etc., is not come out yet.”

In another letter to Mr. Keen, he observed:――

“Leith, May 14, 1763. Why so fearful of writing a long letter? The longer the better. Though disappointed in embarking, by reason of sickness, I can read and write, and hope soon to get upon my throne again. I have been able to go upon the water to-day for several hours. Others can die, but I cannot. Father, Thy will be done! What a God do I serve! Physicians, friends on every side of me! And what is all in all, the great Physician comforting my soul! Thank, O thank Him in behalf of a worthless worm!”

Whitefield’s last letter, before his departure, was the following:――

“GREENOCK, _June 4, 1763_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,――A thousand thanks for your kind letters. Jesus is kind. I am better, and just going on board the _Fanny_, bound to Rappahanock, in Virginia. Yours to good Lady Huntingdon is taken care of. I hear her daughter died well,[508] and that her ladyship is comforted and resigned. Blessed be God! Adieu! Follow me with your prayers.

“Ever yours,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Thus ended Whitefield’s eight years’ wanderings in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. During this interval, he had reached the zenith of his usefulness and fame. His health was now broken; and, though he lived for seven years afterwards, he, comparatively speaking, continued to be, what Wesley called him, a “worn-out” man.

_SIXTH VISIT TO AMERICA._

JUNE 4, 1763, TO JULY 8, 1765.

WHITEFIELD’S voyage to America was long, but pleasant. Nearly twelve weeks were spent upon the ocean. His letters will best display his feelings.

“AT SEA, _July 15, 1763_.

“This leaves me looking towards Virginia, but only as a harbour in my way to an infinitely better port, from whence I shall never put out to sea again. I have been surprisingly kept up during the voyage,――long, but not tedious. Jesus has made the ship a Bethel. I have enjoyed that quietness which I have in vain sought after for some years on shore. Not an oath has been heard even in the greatest hurry. All has been harmony and love. But my breath is short, and, since my relapse in Scotland, I have little hope of much further public usefulness. A few exertions, like the last struggles of a dying man, are all that can be expected from me.”

On landing in Virginia, Whitefield wrote two pastoral letters, one to his “dear Tabernacle hearers;” the other to those at Tottenham Court Road. Both were written on the same day, and the following is an extract:――

“VIRGINIA, _September 1, 1763_.

“For some weeks, I was enabled to preach once a day when in Scotland, and, I trust, not without Divine efficacy. But, being taken ill of my old disorder at Edinburgh, I had to remain silent for near six weeks, and sometimes I thought my intended voyage would be retarded, at least, for one year longer. Having, however, obtained a little strength, I embarked, for the eleventh time, in the ship _Fanny_, and I have not been laid by an hour, through sickness, since I came on board. Everything has been suitable to my low estate,――a large and commodious cabin, a kind captain, and a most orderly and quiet ship’s company, who gladly attended whenever I had breath to preach. Often, often have I thought of my dear London friends, when I guessed they were assembled together; and as often prayed, when I knew that they were retired to rest, that He, who keepeth Israel, would watch over them, and make their very dreams devout. How I am to be disposed of, when on dry land, is best known to God. Had I strength equal to my will, I could fly from pole to pole. Though wearied, and now almost worn out, I am not weary of my blessed Master’s service, O love Him! Love Him! Make Him your portion, and He will be your confidence for ever. Through His leave, I hope to see you again next year. Meanwhile, as long as I have breath, it shall be my heart’s desire and prayer to God, that the labours of the dear servants of Jesus, who are called to preach amongst you, may be so blessed that I may not be missed a single moment.”

As soon as he left the ship, Whitefield set out for a cooler climate than that of Virginia. Hence the following:――

“VIRGINIA, _September 7, 1763_.

“We are now on dry land. Christian friends, whom I never before heard of, were prepared to receive me; and I have preached four times. This leaves me on my way to Philadelphia, still visited with my old disorder. Well: He that cometh will come, and will not tarry. Blessed are all they who wait for Him.”

“PHILADELPHIA, _September 29, 1763_.

“Ebenezer! Hitherto the Lord hath helped! I have been here above a week; but am still an invalid. When you write, mention nothing but what relates to the eternal world. I have no thoughts to throw away on the trifling things of time. Tender love to all who are travelling to the New Jerusalem.”

Whitefield spent two months among his old acquaintance at Philadelphia, but his health was not improved. His interest, however, in the work of God was as profound as ever. To his friend Mr. Keen, he wrote:――

“PHILADELPHIA, _October 21, 1763_.

“The bearer of this is a young, sober gentleman, intended for the temple, and will be glad to see and hear Mr. Romaine, and other gospel ministers. I hope all are flaming for God. Some young bright witnesses are rising up in the Church here. I have already conversed with about forty new-creature ministers, of various denominations. I am informed that sixteen hopeful students were converted at New Jersey College last year. What an open door, if I had strength! But, Father, Thy will be done! Blessed be His name, I can preach now and then. Last Tuesday, we had a remarkable season among the Lutherans. Children and grown people were much impressed. If possible, I intend returning with Mr. Habersham (now here) to Georgia.”

Poor Whitefield was not able to fulfil his intentions. Instead of visiting his Orphan House, he was, for more than a year, obliged to content himself with writing to its managers. The following is an extract from the first of these letters:――

“PHILADELPHIA, _November 8, 1763_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIENDS,――Man appoints; and God, for wise reasons, disappoints. All was ready for my coming, by land, to you at Bethesda, with Mr. Habersham; but several things concurred to prevent me; and the physicians all agree, that the only chance I have for growing better, is to stay and see what the cold weather will do for me. At present, I make a shift to preach twice a week; but, alas! my strength is perfect weakness. What a mercy that Jesus is all in all! You will let me hear from you very particularly. I want to know the present state of all your affairs in every respect.”

There was, however, another reason, besides his state of health, why he deferred his visit to Bethesda. True, after the long “Seven Years’ War,” peace had been proclaimed between France and England; but, during the war, the opponents had cruelly employed the Indians in carrying out their purposes; and now it was far from easy to keep the Indians quiet. Hence the following, addressed to Mr. Robert Keen:――

“PHILADELPHIA, _November 14, 1763_.

“I am about to make my first excursion, to the New Jersey College. Twice a week preaching, is my present allowance. Many, of various ranks, seem to be brought under real concern. Physicians are absolutely against my going to Georgia, till I get more strength. Besides, it is doubtful whether the southern Indians will not break out; and, therefore, a little stay in these parts may, on that account, be most prudent.”

Towards the end of November, Whitefield and Habersham started from Philadelphia; but, instead of getting to Georgia, Whitefield was obliged to halt at New York, where he remained about two months. Extracts from his letters written here will be useful.

“NEW YORK, _December 1, 1763_.

“Some good impressions have been made in Philadelphia, and we had four sweet seasons at New Jersey College, and two at Elizabeth Town, on my way hither. Some said they resembled old times. My spirits grow better; but thrice a week is as often as I can preach. To-day, I begin here, and have thoughts of returning with Mr. Habersham to Georgia, but am fearful of relapsing by such a fatiguing journey.”

Again, Whitefield was unable to proceed to Georgia. Hence the following, written to the managers of his Orphan House:――

“NEW YORK, _December 7, 1763_.

“MY DEAR FRIENDS,――What a mortification it is to me not to accompany my dear Mr. Habersham to Bethesda. Assure yourselves, I shall come as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I have desired Mr. Habersham to assist in supervising and settling the accounts, and to give his advice respecting the house, plantation, etc. I beg you will be so good as to let me have an inventory of every individual thing, the names and number of the negroes, and what you think is necessary to be done every way. I would only observe in general, that I would have the family lessened as much as may be, and all things contracted into as small a compass as possible. Once more, adieu, though, I trust, but for a short season. My heart is too full to enlarge. I purpose going to New England; but it will be better to go to heaven. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.”

“NEW YORK, _December 16, 1763_.

“Jesus continues to own the feeble labours of an almost worn-out pilgrim. Every day, the thirst for hearing the word increases, and the better sort come home to hear more of it. I must go soon to New England. Cold weather and a warm heart suit my tottering tabernacle best.”

“NEW YORK, _December 18, 1763_.

“I am in better health than when I wrote last. Preaching thrice a week agrees pretty well with me this cold season of the year. I am apt to believe my disorder will be periodical. New Jersey College is a blessed nursery, one of the purest, perhaps, in the universe. The worthy president and three tutors are all bent upon making the students both saints and scholars. I was lately there for a week. The Redeemer vouchsafed to own the word preached. Prejudices in New York have most strangely subsided. The better sort flock as eagerly as the common people, and are fond of coming for private gospel conversation.”

The year 1763 will be suitably closed by a warm-hearted letter to Charles Wesley.

“NEW YORK, _December 26, 1763_.

“MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,――Once more I write to you from this dying world. Through infinite, unmerited mercy, I am helped to preach twice or thrice a week, and never saw people of all ranks more eager in Philadelphia and in this place, than now. Lasting impressions, I trust, are made. At New Jersey College, we had sweet seasons among the sons of the prophets, and I have had the pleasure of conversing with new-creature ministers of various denominations. Ere long, we shall join the elders about the throne. Then shall we all greatly marvel, and try who can shout loudest, ‘He hath done all things well.’ Neither you, nor your brother, nor the highest archangel in heaven, shall, if possible, outdo even me, though less than the least of all. Continue to pray for me, as such. I hope your brother lives and prospers. Remember me to your dear yoke-fellow, and all enquiring friends; and assure yourselves of not being forgotten in the poor addresses of, my dear friend,

“Yours in Jesus,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[509]

In more than one of these extracts, Whitefield makes grateful mention of his conversing with what he calls “_new-creature ministers_.” This is a notable fact. Compared with his first visits to America, the difference, in this respect, was great. It ought always to be remembered, that the revival, in the days of Whitefield and the Wesleys, was remarkable, not only for the quickening of churches and the saving of sinners, but also for the raising up of a host of converted ministers, in England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and America. This was not the least of its glorious results.

Whitefield longed to be at Bethesda, but the hope of being benefited by the colder atmosphere of the northern colonies still detained him. The following is taken from another letter addressed to the managers of his Orphan House:――

“New York, January 12, 1764. The cold braces me up a little. I am enabled to preach twice or thrice a week. Congregations continue very large, and, I trust, saving impressions are made upon many. O for a blessed gale of Divine influences when we meet at Bethesda! From thence, or from Charlestown, I purpose to embark for England. But future things belong to Him, who, whatever may be our thoughts, always orders all things well.”

The following extract from the _Boston Gazette_ confirms the foregoing statements, respecting Whitefield’s congregations in New York:――

“New York, January 23, 1764. The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield has spent seven weeks with us, preaching twice a week, with more general acceptance than ever. He has been treated with great respect by many of the gentlemen and merchants of this place. During his stay, he preached two charity sermons: one on the occasion of the annual collection for the poor, when double the sum was collected that ever was upon the like occasion; the other for the benefit of Mr. Wheelock’s Indian School, at Lebanon, in New England, for which he collected (notwithstanding the prejudices of many people against the Indians) the sum of £120. In his last sermon, he took a very affectionate leave of the people of this city, who expressed great concern at his departure. May God restore this great and good man (in whom the gentleman, the Christian, and the accomplished orator shine forth with such lustre) to a perfect state of health, and continue him long a blessing to the world, and the Church of Christ!”

Immediately after this, Whitefield set out for New England, and, on his way, preached in Long Island, Shelter Island, and other places. On arriving at Boston, about February 13, he received a hearty welcome, not only from his old acquaintance, but from the people in general. His enormous collections, in 1761, for the distressed Protestants in Germany, and for the sufferers by the great fire at Boston, have been already mentioned. Now, as was fitting, the Boston people thanked him for his assistance. Hence the following:――

“Boston, February 20. Monday last, at a very general meeting of the freeholders and other inhabitants of this town, it was voted unanimously that the thanks of the town be given to the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, for his charitable care and pains in collecting a considerable sum of money in Great Britain, for the benefit of the distressed sufferers by the great fire in Boston, 1760. And a respectable committee was appointed to wait on Mr. Whitefield, to inform him of the vote, and present him with a copy thereof; which committee waited upon him accordingly, and received the following answer:――

“GENTLEMEN,――This vote of thanks for so small an instance of my goodwill to Boston, as it was entirely unexpected, quite surprises me. Often have I been much concerned that I could do no more upon such a distressing occasion. That the Redeemer may ever preserve the town from such-like melancholy events, and sanctify the present afflictive circumstances to the spiritual welfare of all its inhabitants, is the hearty prayer of,

“Gentlemen, your ready servant in our common Lord,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[510]

A few days after this, Whitefield wrote to his friend, Mr. Robert Keen, as follows:――

“Boston, March 3, 1764. I have received letters from my wife and Mr. C――――, dated in October and November. I have been received at Boston with the usual warmth of affection. Twice have we seen the Redeemer’s stately steps in the great congregation. But, as the small-pox is likely to spread through the town, I purpose making my country tour, and then to return to Boston in my way to the south. Invitations come so thick and fast from every quarter, that I know not what to do. I cannot boast of acquiring much additional bodily strength. The cool season of the year helps to keep me up. Twice a week is as often as I can, with comfort, ascend my throne. Till I hear from you, and see what is determined concerning Bethesda, I cannot think of undertaking a long voyage. Sometimes I fear my weakness will never allow me to go on shipboard any more. But I will wait.”

Whitefield lived to be a blessing to his fellow-creatures. He had just been thanked, by the inhabitants of Boston, for the assistance he had rendered them in 1761. Now, his heart was set on helping others.

A hundred and thirty-four years ago, the Puritans of New England had advanced £400 towards the erection of a college at Newton, which, on the founding of the college there, had its name changed to Cambridge. In 1638, the Rev. John Harvard, minister of Charlestown, near Boston, died, and bequeathed to the college one half of his estate and all his library. In honour of its benefactor, the college henceforth was called “Harvard College.” There cannot be a doubt that this venerable school of learning exerted a powerful influence in forming the character of the people of New England. Magistrates and men of wealth were profuse in their donations to its funds; and once, at least, every family in the colony gave to the Harvard College twelvepence, or a peck of corn, or its value in unadulterated wampumpeag.[511] Now, in 1764, a great calamity had befallen this, the oldest college in America. Its library was burnt. Whitefield heard of this, and wished to render some assistance.

Further. In 1754, the Rev. Eleazer Wheelock, D.D., first president of Dartmouth College, founded a charity school, at Lebanon, for the education of Indian youths, with a view of preparing them for labouring as missionaries, interpreters, or schoolmasters, among the Indian tribes. He now had more than twenty of these young men under his care and management, his school being supported partly by private subscriptions, and partly by assistance rendered by the Legislatures of Connecticut and Massachusetts, and by the Commissioners in Boston of the Scotch Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge. The idea was a noble one, though its ultimate success was not so great as some expected.

Four years ago, Whitefield had rendered valuable assistance to Dr. Wheelock.[512] In a letter, dated “London, 1760,” he wrote:――

“Upon mentioning and a little enforcing your Indian affair, the Lord put it into the heart of the Marquis of Lothian to hand me £50. You will not fail to send his lordship a letter of thanks and some account of the school. Now the great God has given us Canada, what will become of us, if we do not improve it to His glory and the conversion of the poor heathen? Satan is doing what he can here to bring the work into contempt, by blasphemy and ridicule at both the theatres. But you know how the bush burned and was not consumed; and why? Jesus was, and is in it. Hallelujah! My hearty love to the Indian lambs.”[513]

This letter was written in the midst of the terrible persecution arising out of the performance of Foote’s infamous farce, “The Minor.” Whitefield’s interest in the temporal and eternal welfare of the heathen Indians was as profound as ever; and, hence, he now made a fresh application to his friends, not only on behalf of Harvard College, but of Wheelock’s school. Hence the following, addressed to a friend in London:――

“Concord, twenty miles from Boston, March 10, 1764. In New York, we saw blessed days of the Son of man; and, in my way to these parts, a Divine influence has attended the word preached, in various places. How would you have been delighted to have seen Mr. Wheelock’s Indians! Such a promising nursery of future missionaries, I believe, was never seen in New England before. Pray encourage it with all your might. I also wish you could give some useful Puritanical books to Harvard College Library, lately burnt. Few, perhaps, will give such; and yet a collection of that kind is absolutely necessary for future students, and to poor neighbouring ministers, to whom, I find, the books belonging to the library are freely lent from time to time. You will not be angry with me for these hints. I know your ambitious, greedy soul: you want to grow richer and richer towards God. O that there may be in me such a mind! But my wings are clipped. I can only preach twice or thrice a week with comfort. And yet a wider door than ever is opened all along the continent.”

Notwithstanding his ill-health, Whitefield continued preaching, and, as usual, with great success. To Mr. Charles Hardy, one of the managers of his London chapels, he wrote:――

“Portsmouth, March 23, 1764. How was my heart eased by receiving yesterday your kind letter, dated October 22. If you and dear Mr. Keen will continue to manage when I am present, as well as when I am absent, it may give another turn to my mind. At present, my way is clear to go on preaching till I can journey southward. The enclosed will inform you of what has been done by one sermon at Providence, formerly a most ungodly place. At Newbury, which I left yesterday, there is a stir indeed. On Lord’s-day, I shall begin here. O for daily fresh gales!”

A month after this, Whitefield had returned to Boston, and wrote as follows to Mr. Dixon, the superintendent of his Orphan House:――

“Boston, April 20, 1764. I have been at my _ne plus ultra_ northward, and am now more free, and capable of settling my affairs southward. When that is done, how cheerfully could I sing, ‘Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace!’ I hope you are not offended at my giving a power of attorney to Mr. Habersham. It was not owing to a distrust of any of you, but only, in _case of my death_, that he might testify to the world the integrity of your actions, and the veracity of your accounts. I am persuaded, he will not desire to interfere, but will act and consult jointly with yourselves, as occasion offers; and you will go on in your old way. I wish I was assured of your stay at Bethesda. I am satisfied, you will not distress me by leaving the place destitute of proper help. My tottering tabernacle will not bear grief, especially from those whom I so dearly love, and who have served the institution so faithfully and disinterestedly for so many years. What I have in view for Bethesda, may be better spoken of when we meet, than by letter. By my late excursions, I am brought low; but rest and care may brace me up again for some little further service for our glorious Emmanuel. A most blessed influence has attended the word in various places, and many have been made to cry out, ‘What shall we do to be saved?’”

Whitefield now entertained the thought of an escape to the southern colonies; but “the Boston people sent a hue and cry after” him, and brought him back.[514] He resumed his ministry among them on April 24, and, as far as he was able, continued to preach to them for about the next eight weeks. They begged “for a six o’clock morning lecture,” and he was willing to accede to their request, saying, “I would fain die preaching.”[515] To Mr. Charles Hardy, he wrote:――

“Boston, June 1, 1764. You see where this leaves me. Friends have constrained me to stay here, for fear of running into the summer’s heat. Hitherto, I find the benefit of it. I am much better in health, than I was this time twelvemonth, and can now preach thrice a week to large auditories without hurt. Every day I hear of some brought under concern. This is all of grace. In about a fortnight, I purpose to set forward on my southern journey. It will be hard parting; but heaven will make amends for all.”

Whitefield left Boston, as he intended, and travelled to New York, where he continued for about three months. In reference to his New England visit, he wrote to Mr. Keen, as follows:――

“New York, June 25, 1764. The New England winter campaign is over, and I am thus far on my way to Georgia. Mr. Smith, my faithful host, at Boston, writes thus: ‘Your departure never before so deeply wounded us, and the most of this people. They propose sending a book full of names to call you back. Your enemies are very few, and even they seem to be almost at peace with you.’ To crown the expedition, after preaching at Newhaven College, and when I was going off in the chaise, the president came to me, and said, the students were so deeply impressed by the sermon, that they were gone into the chapel, and earnestly entreated me to give them one more quarter of an hour’s exhortation. Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto Thy free and unmerited grace be all the glory!”

Whitefield’s health continued better; and, besides preaching in the chapels of New York, he, at the beginning of August, mentions his having preached twice in the open air.[516] His popularity was enormous. Hence the following to Mr. Keen:――

“New York, August 25, 1764. Still I am kept, as it were, a prisoner in these parts, by the heat of the weather. All dissuade me from proceeding southward till the latter end of September. My late excursions upon Long Island have been blessed. It would surprise you to see above a hundred carriages at every sermon in this new world. I am, through infinite mercy, still kept up. I wrote to Mr. Hardy and my dear wife very lately by a friend; and I have sent many letters, for a _letter-day_, to the care of Mrs. E――――s, in Bristol.”

Towards the end of September, Whitefield removed to Philadelphia, whence he again wrote to Mr. Keen:――

“Philadelphia, September 21, 1764. After a most solemn and heart-breaking parting at New York, I am come thus far in my way to Georgia. There I hope to be about Christmas; and in spring to embark for England. However, let what will become of the substance, I herewith send you my shadow. The painter, who gave it me, having now the ague and fever, and living a hundred miles off, I must get you to have the drapery finished; and then, if judged proper, let it be put up in the Tabernacle parlour. I have only preached twice here, but the influence was deep. I am better in health than I have been these three years. I received the hymn-books.”[517]

Immediately after his arrival, Whitefield, by request, preached at the commencement of a new term of the College of Philadelphia,――an establishment which he pronounced to be “one of the best regulated institutions in the world.”[518] The provost of the college was the Rev. William Smith, D.D., a native of Scotland, and educated at the University of Aberdeen,――an episcopally ordained clergyman, and a gentleman whose learning and popular talents contributed greatly to raise the character of the college over which he presided.

“Dr. Smith,” says Whitefield, “read prayers for me; both the present and the late governor, with the head gentlemen of the city, were present; and cordial thanks were sent to me from all the trustees, for speaking for the children, and countenancing the institution. This is all of God. To me nothing belongs but shame and confusion of face. O for a truly guileless heart!”[519]

While at Philadelphia, Whitefield wrote the following characteristic letter to his old friend Wesley:――

“PHILADELPHIA, _September 25, 1764_.

“REV. AND DEAR SIR,――Your kind letter, dated in January last, did not reach me till a few days ago. It found me here, just returned from my northern circuit; and waiting only for cooler weather to set forwards for Georgia. Perhaps that may be my _ne plus ultra_. But the gospel range is of such large extent, that I have, as it were, scarce begun to begin. Surely nothing but a very loud call of Providence could make me so much as think of returning to England as yet. I have been mercifully carried through the summer’s heat; and, had strength permitted, I might have preached to thousands and thousands thrice every day. Zealous ministers are not so rare in this new world as in other parts. Here is room for a hundred itinerants. Lord Jesus, send by whom Thou wilt send! Fain would I end my life in rambling after those who have rambled away from Jesus Christ.

‘For this let men despise my name; I’d shun no cross; I’d fear no shame; All hail reproach!’

“I am persuaded you are like-minded. I wish you and all your dear fellow-labourers great prosperity. O to be kept from turning to the right hand or the left! Methinks, for many years, _we_ have heard a voice behind us, saying, ‘This is the way; walk ye in it.’ I do not repent being a poor, despised, cast-out, and now almost worn-out itinerant. I would do it again, if I had my choice. Having loved His own, the altogether lovely Jesus loves them to the end. Even the last glimmerings of an expiring taper, He blesses to guide some wandering souls to Himself. In New England, New York, and Pennsylvania, the word has run and been glorified. Scarce one dry meeting since my arrival. All this is of grace. In various places, there has been a great stirring among the dry bones.

“If you and all yours would join in praying over a poor worthless, but willing pilgrim, it would be a very great act of charity, he being, though less than the least of all,

“Rev. and very dear sir,

“Ever yours in Jesus,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[520]

Whitefield continued a month at Philadelphia; and, on leaving it, about October 21, exclaimed, “O what blessings have we received in this place! Join in crying, Hallelujah!”[521]

On his departure from Philadelphia, Whitefield proceeded to Virginia, and to North and South Carolina. He met with the “new lights” at almost every stage: a nickname given to evangelical preachers and their converts, and analogous to that of “Methodists” in England. The present was a marvellous contrast when compared with the state of things, at the time of Whitefield’s first visit to Virginia a quarter of a century before; and no wonder that he wrote, “It makes me almost determine to come back early in the spring. Surely the Londoners, who are fed to the full, will not envy the poor souls in these parts, who scarce know their right hand from the left.”

On December 3, he left Charleston for Georgia, and, about a week afterwards, reached Savannah,――more than a year and a half from the time of his embarkation for America. His detention, in the northern colonies, had been long; but no time was wasted after his arrival. Within a week, he had the boldness to ask the governor of Georgia, and the two Houses of Assembly, for a grant of two thousand acres of land, to enable him to convert his Orphan House into a college. The story will be best told by the insertion of Whitefield’s “Memorial,” and the answers it evoked:――

“To His Excellency James Wright, Esq., Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief of His Majesty’s Province of Georgia, and to the Members of His Majesty’s Council in the said Province.

“The Memorial of George Whitefield, Clerk,

“_Sheweth_,――That about twenty-five years ago, your memorialist, assisted by the voluntary contributions of charitable and well-disposed persons, at a very great expense, and under many disadvantages, did erect a commodious house, with necessary out-buildings, suitable for the reception of orphans, and other poor and deserted children; and that with the repair of the buildings, purchase of negroes, and supporting a large orphan family for so many years, he hath expended upwards of £12,000 sterling, as appears by the accounts, which from time to time have been audited by the magistrates of Savannah.

“That your memorialist, since the commencement of this institution, hath had the satisfaction of finding, that, by the money expended thereon, not only many poor families were assisted, and thereby kept from leaving the Colony in its infant state, but also that a considerable number of poor helpless children have been trained up; who have been, and now are, useful settlers in this and the neighbouring Provinces.

“That in order to render the institution aforesaid more extensively useful, your memorialist, as he perceived the colony gradually increasing, hath for some years past designed within himself, to improve the original plan, by making further provision for the education of persons of superior rank; who thereby might be qualified to serve their king, their country, or their God, either in Church or State. That he doth with inexpressible pleasure see the present very flourishing state of the Province; but with concern perceives that several gentlemen have been obliged to send their sons to the northern Provinces; who would much rather have had them educated nearer home, and thereby prevent their affections being alienated from their native country, and also considerable sums of money from being carried out of this into other Provinces.

“Your memorialist further observes, that there is no seminary for academical studies as yet founded southward of Virginia; and consequently if a College could be established here (especially as the late addition of the two Floridas renders Georgia more centrical for the southern district) it would not only be highly serviceable to the rising generation of the Colony, but would occasion many youths to be sent from the British West India Islands and other parts. The many advantages accruing thereby to this Province must be very considerable.

“From these considerations, your memorialist is induced to believe, that the time is now approaching, when his long-projected design for further serving this his beloved Colony, shall be carried into execution.

“That a considerable sum of money is intended speedily to be laid out in purchasing a large number of negroes, for the further cultivation of the present Orphan House and other additional lands, and for the future support of a worthy, able president, and for professors, and tutors, and other good purposes intended.

“Your memorialist therefore prays your Excellency and Honours to grant to him in _trust_, for the purposes aforesaid, two thousand acres of land, on the north fork of the Turtle River, called the Lesser Swamp, if vacant, or where lands may be found vacant, south of the River Altamaha.

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

“Savannah, in Georgia, _December 18, 1764_.”

Whitefield’s case was a strong one. There cannot be a doubt that Georgia had had no benefactor superior to himself; and it must also be admitted further, that his proposed academy, or college, was greatly needed. In addition to this, there was another fact favourable to the success of his application. His old friend, James Habersham, the first Superintendent of his Orphanage, was now raised to the dignity of being the “president of the Upper House of Assembly.” Under such circumstances, it is not surprising, that, only two days after the date of Whitefield’s Memorial, the following “Address” was presented to the Governor of Georgia:――

“The Address of both Houses of Assembly, Georgia.

“To His Excellency James Wright, Esq., Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief of His Majesty’s Province of Georgia.

“MAY IT PLEASE YOUR EXCELLENCY,――We, his Majesty’s most dutiful and loyal subjects, the Council and Commons House of Assembly of Georgia in General Assembly met, beg leave to acquaint your Excellency that with the highest satisfaction, we learn that the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield has applied for lands, in order to the endowment of a College in this Province. The many and singular obligations Georgia has been continually laid under to that reverend gentleman, from its very infant state, would in gratitude induce us, by every means in our power, to promote any measure he might recommend; but, in the present instance, where the interest of the Province, the advancement of religion, and the pleasing prospect of obtaining proper education for our youth, so clearly coincide with his views, we cannot in justice but request your Excellency to use your utmost endeavours to promote so desirable an event, and to transmit home our sincere and very fervent wishes, for the accomplishment of so useful, so beneficent, and so laudable an undertaking.

“By order of the Upper House,

“JAMES HABERSHAM, _President_.

“_December 20, 1764._

“By Order of the Commons House,

“ALEX. WYLLY, _Speaker_.”

The reply of the governor of Georgia was as courteous and generous as the address of the Houses of Assembly:――

“GENTLEMEN,――I am so perfectly sensible of the very great advantage which will result to the Province in general, from the establishment of a seminary for learning here, that it gives me the greatest pleasure to find so laudable an undertaking proposed by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. The friendly and zealous disposition of that gentleman, to promote the prosperity of this Province, has been often experienced; and you may rest assured, that I shall transmit your address home, with my best endeavours for the success of the great point in view.

“JAMES WRIGHT.

“_December 20, 1764._”

These documents greatly redound to Whitefield’s honour, and are too important to be omitted in the memoirs of the poor, persecuted preacher. Another of the same class must also be inserted. On three previous occasions, Whitefield’s Orphan House accounts had been subjected to an official audit. On April 16, 1746, it was ascertained that, up to that date, Whitefield had expended £5,511 17s. 9¼d.; and had received, £4,982 12s. 8d.; leaving him out of pocket, £529 5s. 1¼d. From that date to February 25, 1752, he expended £2,026 13s. 7½d., and received £1,386 8s. 7½d., leaving another deficiency of £640 5s. From February 25, 1752, to February 19, 1755, he spent £1,966 18s. 2d., towards which he received £1,289 2s. 3d., leaving a third deficiency amounting to £677 15s. 11d. On the 9th of February, 1765, the fourth audit of the accounts took place, from which it appeared that, during the last ten years, Whitefield had expended the sum of £3,349 15s. 10d., and had received £3,132 16s. ¼d., he being a fourth time out of pocket to the amount of £216 19s. 9¾d. These four deficiencies put together make £2,064 5s. 10d., the amount of Whitefield’s own private contributions to his Orphanage in Georgia. Remembering that the value of money then was four times greater than its value now, this was an enormous sum for the unbeneficed Methodist clergyman to give. Whitefield was born and bred in a public-house; the expense of his collegiate education had been met partly by private benefactions, and partly by his submitting to perform the drudgeries of a college servitor; the only church living that he had ever had was Savannah, and even that only for a few short months; fixed income he had none; all his life, he had contentedly and joyously relied on Providence for the supply of his daily needs. Providence had never failed him. He had had enough, and to spare. To say nothing of his other gifts, in London and elsewhere, it was now officially and publicly declared that, out of his own private purse, he had given more than £2,000 to his Orphan House in Georgia. The two attestations, declaring this, were as follows:――

“GEORGIA.

“Before me, the Honourable Noble Jones, Esq., senior, one of the Assistant Justices for the Province aforesaid, personally appeared the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, and Thomas Dixon of the Province aforesaid, who, being duly sworn, declare that the accounts relating to the Orphan House, from folio 82 to folio 98 in this book, amounting on the debit side to £3,349 15s. 10d. sterling, and on the credit side to £3,132 16s. ¼d., contain, to the best of their knowledge, a just and true account of all the monies collected by, or given to them, or any other, for the use or benefit of the said house, and that the disbursements, amounting to the sum aforesaid, have been faithfully applied to, and for the use of the same.

“_Signed_, { GEORGE WHITEFIELD, { THOMAS DIXON.

“_February 9, 1765._

“Sworn this 9th day of February, 1765, before me, in justification whereof I have caused the seal of the General Court to be affixed.

“_Signed_, N. JONES. _Sealed._”

“GEORGIA.

“Before me, the Honourable Noble Jones, Esq., senior, personally appeared James Edward Powell and Grey Elliot, Esqrs., members of His Majesty’s Honourable Council for the Province aforesaid, who, being duly sworn, declare that they have carefully examined the accounts containing the receipts and disbursements, for the use of the Orphan House of the said Province, and that, comparing them with the several vouchers, they find the same not only just and true in every respect, but kept in such a clear and regular manner, as does honour to the managers of that house; and that, on a careful examination of the several former audits, it appears that the sum of £2,064 5s. 10d. has, at several times, been given by the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield for the use of the said house; and that, in the whole, the sum of £12,855 5s. 4¾d. has been laid out for the same house since the 7th of January, 1739, to this day. Also, that it doth not appear that any charge has ever been made by the said Rev. Mr. Whitefield, either for travelling charges or any other expenses whatever; and that no charge of salary has been made for any person whatever, employed or concerned in the management of the said house.

“_Signed_, { JAMES EDWARD POWELL, { GREY ELLIOT.

“_February 9, 1765._

“Sworn this 9th day of February, 1765, before me, in justification whereof I have caused the seal of the General Court to be affixed.

“_Signed_, N. JONES. _Sealed._”

These are lengthy documents to insert, but the honour of Whitefield’s memory requires them; and they, also, without the need of further evidence, triumphantly acquit the great itinerant from the numerous mercenary charges, which, from time to time, were brought against him. No wonder that poor afflicted Whitefield was full of gratitude. The following extracts from his letters will be welcome:――

“Bethesda, January 14, 1765. I have been in Georgia above five weeks. All things, in respect to Bethesda, have gone on successfully. God has given me great favour in the sight of the Governor, Council, and Assembly. A memorial was presented for an additional grant of lands, consisting of two thousand acres. It was immediately complied with. Both houses addressed the Governor in behalf of the intended College. As warm an answer was given; and I am now putting all in repair, and getting everything ready for that purpose. Every heart seems to leap for joy, at the prospect of its future utility to this and the neighbouring colonies. The only question now is, whether I should embark directly for England, or take one tour more to the northward. He, who holdeth the stars in His right hand, will direct in due time. I am here in delightful winter quarters. Peace and plenty reign at Bethesda. His Excellency dined with me yesterday, and expressed his satisfaction in the warmest terms. Who knows how many youths may be raised up for the ever-loving and altogether lovely Jesus? Thus far, however, we may set up our Ebenezer. Hitherto, the bush has been burning, but not consumed. Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief!”

“Bethesda, February 3, 1765. We have just been wishing some of our London friends were here. We have lovefeasts every day. Nothing but peace and plenty reign in Bethesda, this house of mercy. God be praised for making the chapel, in London, such a Bethel. I believe it will yet be the gate of heaven to many souls. Whether we live or die, we shall see greater things. Remember, my dear friend, to ask something worthy of a God to give. Be content with nothing short of Himself. His presence alone can fill and satisfy the renewed soul.”

“Bethesda, February 13, 1765. A few days more, and then farewell Bethesda, perhaps for ever. The within audit, I sent to the Governor. Next day, came Lord J. A. G――――n, to pay his Excellency a visit. Yesterday morning, they, with several other gentlemen, favoured me with their company to breakfast. But how was my Lord surprised and delighted! After expressing himself in the strongest terms, he took me aside, and informed me that the Governor had shown him the accounts, by which he found what a great benefactor I had been;――that the intended College would be of the utmost utility to this and the neighbouring Provinces;――that the plan was beautiful, rational, and practicable;――and that he was persuaded his Majesty would highly approve of it, and also favour it with some peculiar marks of his royal bounty. At their desire, I went to town, and dined with him and the Governor at Savannah. On Tuesday next, God willing, I move towards Charleston, leaving all arrears paid off, and some cash in hand, besides the last year’s whole crop of rice, some lumber, the house repaired, painted, furnished with plenty of clothing, and provision till the next crop comes in, and perhaps some for sale. Only a few boys will be left, two of whom are intended for the foundation; so that, this year, they will be getting rather than expending. Near ten boys and girls have been put out. The small-pox has gone through the house, with the loss of about six negroes and four orphans. Before this, I think not above four children have been taken off these twenty-four years. As an acknowledgment of Mr. and Mrs. Dixon’s faithfulness and care, I have made them a present of a bill of exchange drawn upon you. And now, farewell, my beloved Bethesda! surely the most delightfully situated place in all the southern parts of America.”

On Thursday, February 21, Whitefield arrived at Charleston,[522] where he wrote to Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, and other friends, as follows:――

“Charleston, March 5, 1765. My very dear, dear friends. Often have we thought and talked of Bethesda. No place like that for peace, and plenty of every kind. This leaves me, aiming, in my poor way, to do a little for Him, who has done and suffered so much for me. People of all ranks fly to the gospel, like doves to the windows. The word begins to fall with great weight, and all are importunate for my longer stay; but next week I expect to move. The negroes’ shirts, etc., are in hand. O that these Ethiopians may be made to stretch out their hands unto God! I feel a great compassion for them.”

“Charleston, March 15, 1765. I have had a most pleasant winter. Words cannot well express what a scene of action I leave behind. My American work seems as yet scarce begun. My health is better; and every day the word of God runs and is glorified more and more. In two days, my wilderness range commences afresh. In about six weeks, I hope to see Philadelphia. From thence, they say, I am to set sail for my native country. But heaven, a blessed, long-wished for heaven, is my home.”

“Wilmington, Cape Fear, March 29, 1765. Thus far hath the Lord brought me in my way to Philadelphia. We had a most cutting parting from Charleston. I preached thrice in my way to this place. At the desire of the mayor and other gentlemen, I shall stay till next Sunday. This pilgrimage kind of life is the very joy of my heart. Ceiled houses and crowded tables I leave to others. A morsel of bread, and a little bit of cold meat, in a wood, is a most luxurious repast. Jesus’ presence is all in all, whether in the city or the wilderness.”

Whitefield seems to have spent about a month in the journey between Charleston and Philadelphia, but has left no detailed account of his labours. Possibly, he made another tour through Virginia and Maryland. Indeed, this seems to be hinted in the letter about to be quoted. He was now on his way to England, but he wished to be permanently exempt from the responsibility of supplying the pulpits and managing the affairs of his London chapels. Hence the following addressed to Mr. Keen:――

“Newcastle, 30 miles from Philadelphia, May 4, 1765. I am just come here, in my way to embark from Philadelphia. But how shall I do it? All along, from Charleston to this place, the cry is, ‘For Christ’s sake, stay and preach to us.’ O for a thousand lives to spend for Jesus! He is good, He is good! His mercy endureth for ever. Help, help, my dear English friends, to bless and praise Him! Thanks be to God! all outward things are settled on this side the water. The auditing the accounts, and laying a foundation for a college, have silenced enemies and comforted friends. The finishing this affair confirms my call to England; but I have no prospect of being able to serve the Tabernacle and the chapel. I cannot preach once now, without being quite exhausted. How, then, shall I bear the cares of both those places? I must beg you and dear Mr. Hardy to continue trustees when I am present, as well as in my absence. I am praying night and day for direction. The word runs here, and is glorified; but the weather, for two days, has been so hot, that I could scarce move. I dread the shaking of the ship; but if it shakes this tottering frame to pieces, it will be a trading voyage indeed.”

Instead of finding a ship at Philadelphia, as he expected, Whitefield was obliged to proceed to New York, where he embarked on June 9, and, after a quick passage of twenty-eight days, landed in England on July 7.

During his absence in America, Whitefield was, comparatively speaking, exempt from persecution. The principal exception was a maniacal attack by John Harman, who published an 8vo. shilling pamphlet, with the title, “Remarks upon the Life, Character, and Behaviour of the Rev. George Whitefield, as written by himself, from the Time of his Birth to the Time he Departed from his Tabernacle.”

There also appeared in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_ an article, which was a combination of censure and eulogy. The writer condemned “the incoherent, wild, and unconnected jargon” of Whitefield and his friends; but, at the same time, he acknowledged they had greater success than the regular clergy of the Church of England. He was profoundly grieved to witness “irreverent behaviour” at the Church services,――such as the “gaping and yawning” of the people, “picking their noses, and rubbing their faces, admiring and exposing to admiration their little finger with its ring on, and staring all round the church, even when rehearsing the most solemn prayers.” All this he attributed to the clergy’s “being taken up with too great eagerness for the things of this life,” and also to their “sloth and idleness.” On the other hand, the Methodist preacher “strains his voice to the utmost, that every one may hear, and affects a tone of voice and manner of pronunciation” most likely to impress and please his hearers. “In this really severe and fatiguing manner of utterance, he gives long discourses, and exposes his person anywhere, in any corner, on any dunghill, and gets well pelted every now and then.”

_WHITEFIELD’S LAST FOUR YEARS IN GREAT BRITAIN._

FROM JULY 7, 1765, TO SEPTEMBER 5, 1769.

UPON the whole, Whitefield’s health was not improved by his visit to America. He had worked when others would have rested. If he had them with him, which perhaps is doubtful, he had worn “gown and cassock,” when it would have been more prudent to have lounged and travelled in a tourist’s dress. No doubt, his preaching in America had been of inestimable service; but he came back to England scarcely able to preach at all. On his arrival, he thus wrote to Mr. Keen:――

“Plymouth, July 12, 1765. I left the Halifax packet, from New York, near the Lizard; and, by the blunder of a drunken fellow, missed the post on the 8th inst. I want a gown and cassock. Child, in Chancery Lane, used to make for me, and perhaps knows my measure. Amazing, that I have not been measured for a coffin long ago! I am very low in body, and, as yet, undetermined what to do. Perhaps, on the whole, it may be best to come on leisurely, to see if my spirits can be a little recruited. You may write a few lines, at a venture, to Bristol. Had I bodily strength, you would find me coming upon you unawares; but that fails me much. I must have a little rest, or I shall be able to do nothing at all.”

Six days after this, he was at Bristol, in “a fine commodious house, and kept from much company,” but still begging “not to be brought into action too soon.” He wrote, “The poor old shattered bark has not been in dock one week for a long while.”

A fortnight afterwards, he arrived in London, and wrote as follows, probably to one of his old assistants, John Edwards, now Congregationalist minister in Leeds:――

“London, August 3, 1765. I am very weak in body, but gratitude constrains me to send you a few lines of love unfeigned, for your labours during my absence abroad. I rejoice to hear they were blessed. Our friends tell me that the sound of your Master’s feet was heard behind you. To Him, and Him alone, be all the glory! Thanks be to God! we do not go a warfare at our own charges. The Captain of our Salvation will conquer for, and in us. Let us but acknowledge Him in all our ways, and He will direct and prosper all our paths. Our enemies shall be at peace with us. The very ravens――birds of prey――shall be obliged to come and feed us. O for an increase of faith! I hope you have refreshing times from the presence of the Lord, among your own flock. O to end life well! Methinks, I have now but one more river to pass over,――Jordan; and we know who can carry us over, without being ankle deep. Yet a little while, and all true labourers shall enter into the joy of their Lord. Amen! Hallelujah!”

Despite his wish that Messrs. Keen and Hardy would continue to manage his London chapels, Whitefield was obliged to obtain supplies for them himself. To Mr. Andrew Kinsman, whom he was accustomed to address as his “dear Timothy,” he wrote:――

“London, September 20, 1765. Pray, when are we to have the honour of a visit from you? I believe more than three weeks are elapsed since you came to Bristol. Mr. Adams[523] is to be your colleague here. I purpose for both of you to preach at the” (Tottenham Court Road) “chapel as well as at the Tabernacle. Write an immediate answer, fixing your time of coming; and you must not think of returning soon. I have been better in health for a week past than I have been for these four years. My wife,[524] last night, returned well, from Bury. She indulges this morning, being weary; but, I take it for granted, that, you and I rise at five. Mr. Adams’s room will be large enough for you to breathe in. I shall never breathe as I would, till I breathe in heaven.”

Mr. Kinsman, in reply, evidently proposed that, if he came to supply in London, Whitefield should supply in Bristol. Apart from his health, Whitefield had no liking for this proposal. His labours at Bristol had not been so successful and happy as in other places. Hence the following extract from a second letter to Mr. Kinsman:――

“LONDON, _September 28, 1765_.

“Nothing is wanting at Bristol, London, and elsewhere, but labourers full of the first old Methodistical spirit; but where to get them is the question. Those, who are thus minded, are almost worn out. I would gladly fly to Bristol if I could; but I see it is best to be here for some time. Besides, things have always been at such a low ebb, when I have been at Bristol, and matters carried on with so little spirit, that I have generally come away mourning. If a few, such as Mr. Collet,[525] would exert themselves steadily and perseveringly, and if proper preachers were sent, something might be done to purpose; but, as neither of these things is likely to happen, my expectations are not much raised. However, the residue of the Spirit is in the Redeemer’s hands. Fain would I have you up at London for some time, at this season. Mr. D――r expects to see you in a clerical habit about Christmas. He asked me if I would get him a scarf? I answered, that, you must have one first. You may guess how he smiled. However, I really intend you shall preach in the” (Tottenham Court Road) “chapel. I want you also to read the letters, and give me leave to comment upon them, as my breath will allow.”

Without unduly commenting on Whitefield’s letter, there are five facts in it, which must be apparent to every careful reader;――three of them interesting, and two of great importance. 1. Tottenham Court Road chapel was considered to occupy a higher position, than the Tabernacle in Moorfields. 2. Meetings for reading letters were still held among Whitefield’s followers. 3. Bristol was not one of Whitefield’s favourite preaching places. 4. _In Whitefield’s opinion, Methodist preachers were already deteriorated._ 5. _That, without right preachers and a working Church, spiritual progress is next to impossible._

On October 1, Whitefield set out for Bath. For twenty-five years, the Countess of Huntingdon had been accustomed to visit that fashionable city. Wherever she went, she took her religion with her, for her religion was a part of herself. Her position, in many respects, was new and peculiar. She seemed to be a combination of Puritan, Churchman, Dissenter, and Reformer. Her chief characteristic, however, was heartfelt and practical religion. Her lighted “candle” was never “put under a bushel.” On all suitable occasions, she was ready to speak of the sins and errors of her early life, and to tell of her conversion to God, and to insist that the same change is necessary in all. At Bath, she had conversed on religious subjects, with many of the most distinguished personages of the time. Whitefield, Charles Wesley, and others, had conducted religious services in her lodgings, and the services had been attended by considerable numbers of the aristocracy, who would have declined to enter an ordinary Methodist meeting-house. To meet the case of such, her ladyship, years ago, had built chapels of her own at Brighton, and at Bristol; and now she erected a third at Bath; and, soon afterwards, built a fourth at Tunbridge Wells,――all of them places of fashionable resort.

The chapel at Bath being completed, the Countess summoned six clergymen of the Church of England to the opening, namely, Whitefield, Romaine, Venn, Madan, Shirley,[526] and Townsend.[527] On October 6, Whitefield and Townsend preached, and an immense crowd attended, including a large number of the nobility, who had been specially invited by her ladyship.[528] Whitefield mentions this event in the following letter addressed to Mr. Keen:――

“BATH, _October 7, 1765_.

“The Chapel is extremely plain, and yet equally grand. A most beautiful original![529] All was conducted with great solemnity. Though a very wet day, the place was very full; and assuredly the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, by His presence, consecrated and made it holy ground. I preached in the morning, and Mr. Townsend in the evening. I am to preach to-morrow night, and have hopes of setting off on Wednesday morning.”

Whitefield, probably, spent the remainder of the year in London. Wesley breakfasted with him on October 28, and spoke of him as “an old, old man, fairly worn out in his Master’s service, though he has hardly seen fifty years.”[530] No doubt, he preached as often as he could. He was also occupied with his project for converting his Orphan House into a college. In a letter to Mr. Dixon, his manager, he wrote:――

“LONDON, _October 26, 1765_.

“Bethesda matters are likely to come to a speedy and happy issue. We talk of my coming over again. It is not impossible, if my health admits. At present, blessed be God! I am better than I was last year. The word runs and is glorified in London.”

This was written only two days before he and Wesley breakfasted together. Evidently, he scarcely considered his case so serious as Wesley did. Hopefulness, throughout life, was one of his prominent characteristics. This was true at present, both in reference to his health and to the affairs of Bethesda. He was pushing the proposal for a college as much as possible; but the accomplishment of his wish was more remote than he expected. He had sent a memorial to the king, in which he embodied nearly the whole of his memorial to the Governor and Council of Georgia. That to the king concluded thus:――

“Upon the arrival of your memorialist, he was informed that this address, ‘of the General Assembly to the Governor of Georgia,’ was remitted to, and laid before the Lords Commissioners for Trade and Plantations; and, having received repeated advices that numbers both in Georgia and South Carolina are waiting with impatience to have their sons initiated in academical exercises, your memorialist therefore prays that a charter, upon the plan of New Jersey College, may be granted; upon which your memorialist is ready to give up his present 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 towards the future support of a college, to be called by the name of Bethesda College, in the Province of Georgia.”

At this stage of the business, Bethesda must be left until the beginning of the year 1767.

One of the first of Whitefield’s good deeds, in 1766, was to heal a breach. Four years before, Wesley’s Society in London had been thrown into great confusion, by a large number of its members using the most fanatical expressions in reference to the doctrine of Christian Perfection. Thomas Maxfield, generally reputed (though incorrectly) to have been the first layman, whom Wesley authorised to preach, and George Bell, a corporal in the Life Guards, and who, for a season, seemed to be insane, became the chief agitators. The result was a great scandal, a reduction of Wesley’s metropolitan Society from 2,800 members to 2,200, and a Society debt of more than £600. After many strange vicissitudes, Bell was brought back to a better state of feeling, and Whitefield was the means of it. Wesley writes:――

“January 3, 1766. Mr. Bell called upon me, now calm, and in his right mind. God has repressed his furious, bitter zeal, by means of Mr. Whitefield.”

And again, a month later:――

“January 31. Mr. Whitefield called upon me. He breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand before him, but hides its head wherever he comes.”[531]

Another event occurred about the same time, but of a painful character. In _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, for February 10, 1766, the following announcement was made:――

“Lately died suddenly, at the Countess of Huntingdon’s, at Bath, Mr. James Whitefield, formerly a merchant of Bristol, and brother of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield.”

At the commencement of the year, Whitefield was invited to Sheerness, where there existed a Society of what might be considered his followers. Some of Wesley’s preachers had visited the town. The simple-minded, but somewhat bigoted people took alarm. They were angry at their Calvinistic enclosure being approached by Arminian forces. Cornelius Winter, then in Kent, heard of this, and went and preached to them, from――“Gideon said unto him, O my lord, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? And where be all His miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us out of Egypt? but now even the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.”[532]

The people now wanted Whitefield to visit them, and his affecting and admonitory answer was as follows:――

“LONDON, _January, 18, 1766_.

“DEARLY BELOVED,――Not want of love, but of leisure and health, has occasioned you the trouble of writing a second letter. And now I am sorry to acquaint you, that it is not in my power to comply with your request. For want of more assistance, I am confined in town, with the care of two important posts, when I am only fit to be put into some garrison, among the invalids, to stand by an old gun or two. However, my former ambition still remains, and, through the help of your prayers, who knows but I may yet be strengthened to annoy the enemy? If others are blessed to do any execution, God forbid that I should hinder, though in all things they follow not with us. Let the Lord send by whom He will send. So that Christ is preached, and holiness promoted, I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.”

Whitefield was glad to get away from London. The care of his two chapels was too much for him. He went to Bath and Bristol, and was willing, if not wishful, to visit Wales. Hence the following to Mr. Keen:――

“Bristol, March 17, 1766. A desire to be free from London cares has made me indifferent about frequent hearing from thence. If dear Mr. Howell Davies will continue to officiate, I have a mind to visit Wales for him. Last Friday evening, and twice yesterday, I preached at Bath, to thronged and brilliant audiences.[533] I am told it was a high day. The glory of the Lord filled the house. To-morrow, God willing, I return thither. Mr. Townsend is too ill to officiate. If any urgent business requires, be pleased to direct either to this place or Bath. Pray shew my wife this. Cordial respects attend her, yourself, dear Mr. Hardy and sisters, and Mr. Howell Davies. Many think old times are coming round again.”

At this period, England was visited by a man who rose to great notoriety. Samson Occum was a descendant of Uncas, the celebrated chief of the Mohegans, and was born at Mohegan, about the year 1723. His parents led a wandering life, dwelt in wigwams, and depended chiefly upon hunting and fishing for subsistence. During the religious excitement, at the time of Whitefield’s first visits to America, Occum was converted, chiefly by the preaching of Whitefield and Gilbert Tennent, and became desirous of acting as the teacher of his tribe. In a year or two, he learned to read the Bible, and then went to the Indian school of Mr. Wheelock, of Lebanon. Here he remained for four years. During the next ten or eleven years, he taught a school among the Indians, and also preached to them, in their own language. Many of his hearers became Christians. He lived in a house covered with mats, and changed his abode twice a year, to be near the planting ground in the summer, and the woods in the winter. Amongst his various toils for sustenance, he was expert with his fish-hook and his gun; he bound old books for the people at East Hampton; and made wooden spoons, cedar pails, piggins, and churns. In 1759, he was ordained by the Suffolk Presbytery. During his late visit to America, Whitefield met with Occum, took him along with him in his travels, and sometimes heard him preach.[534] Now, in 1766, in company with the Rev. Mr. Whitaker, Occum was sent to England, to obtain subscriptions towards the support of Wheelock’s school.[535] He was the first Indian preacher who had visited Great Britain. The chapels, in which he preached, were thronged. Between February 16, 1766, and July 22, 1767, he delivered, in various parts of the kingdom, above three hundred sermons. He and Mr. Whitaker met with the most liberal patronage from Christians of all denominations, and of all ranks in society. His majesty, King George III., gave a subscription of £200, and the whole contributions, in England and Scotland, amounted to £12,500.[536] After his return, Occum sometimes resided at Mohegan, but was often employed in missionary labours among distant Indians. In 1786, he removed to Brotherton, near Utica, in the neighbourhood of the Stockbridge Indians, where he died in 1792.[537] Upwards of three hundred Indians attended his funeral. A portrait of him appeared in the _Evangelical Magazine_ for 1808. Whitefield refers to him and his mission, in the following letter to the Rev. Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“LONDON, _April 25, 1766_.

“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――Not want of love, but of leisure and better health, has prevented you hearing from me more frequently. I find I cannot do as I have done; but, through infinite mercy, I am enabled to ascend my gospel-throne three or four times a week; and a glorious influence attends the word. People have a hearing ear, but we want more preachers.

“The prospect of a large and effectual door opening among the heathen is very promising. Mr. Occum, the Indian preacher, is a settled humble Christian. The good and great, with a multitude of lower degree, heard him preach last week at Tottenham Court chapel, and felt much of the power and presence of our common Lord. Mr. Romaine has preached, and collected £100; and, I believe, seven or eight hundred pounds more are subscribed. Lord Dartmouth espouses the cause most heartily, and His majesty has become a contributor. The King of kings, and Lord of all lords, will bless them for it.

“I trust you and all my other dear friends at Glasgow are so grown as to become tall cedars in the spiritual Lebanon. I pray for them, though I cannot write to them. I hope all is well at Cambuslang. Blessed be God! all will be well in heaven. I will not interrupt you. You want to say, _Amen! Hallelujah!_ I only add, when upon the mount, put in a word for an old friend, who retains his old name, ‘the chief of sinners, less than the least of all saints’――but, for Jesus Christ’s sake,

“Reverend and very dear sir, your willing servant,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Shortly after this, Whitefield formed a friendship with Thomas Powys, Esq., a gentleman in Shropshire, of large fortune and of high connections, who, in conjunction with Sir Richard Hill, in that county, became conspicuous for zeal in the cause of God and truth.[538] To Mr. Powys, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“Tottenham Court, May 15, 1766. Though at present almost in a breathless state, by preaching last night, yet I hope to be strengthened to give the holy sacrament at seven next Sunday morning; and, if able, to preach afterwards at ten. If good Mr. R―――― and lady will come, at near seven, to the Chapel House, they shall be conducted to a proper place. I wish them a Pentecost, not only on Whit-Sunday, but every day, every hour, and every moment of their lives.”

In the month of June, Whitefield set out for Bath and Bristol. He complained of the continuance of his “feverish heat,” and drank the water of the Hot Wells twice a day; but managed, at six o’clock, in the mornings, “to call thirsty souls to come and drink of the water of life freely.”[539]

On his return to London, he and the Wesleys met several days in succession, for the purpose of promoting a closer union between themselves and the Countess of Huntingdon. Wesley had set out on one of his gospel tours, but was summoned back to join in these important conferences. He writes:――

“My brother and I conferred with Mr. Whitefield every day; and, let the honourable men do what they please, we resolved, by the grace of God, to go on, hand in hand, through honour and dishonour.”[540]

One of their arrangements was, that the Wesleys should preach in the chapels of the Countess of Huntingdon, as Whitefield, for many years, had been accustomed to preach in theirs. Charles Wesley was delighted. In a letter to his wife, he wrote:――

“London, August 21, 1766. Last night, my brother came. This morning, we spent two blessed hours with George Whitefield. The threefold cord, we trust, will never more be broken. On Tuesday next, my brother is to preach in Lady Huntingdon’s Chapel at Bath. That and all her chapels (not to say, as I might, herself also) are now put into the hands of us three.”[541]

Some, however, were dissatisfied. In another letter to his “Dear Sally,” written within three weeks afterwards, he remarks:――

“September 9, 1766. This morning, I spent in friendly, close conference with George Whitefield, who is treated most magnificently, by his own begotten children, for his love to us.”[542]

On the other hand, the Countess of Huntingdon approved of the arrangements made. In a letter to Wesley, she wrote:――

“September 14, 1766. I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol. _I do trust that this union which is commenced_ will be for the furtherance of our faith and mutual love to each other. It is for the interest of the best of causes that we should all be found, first, faithful to the Lord, and then to each other. I find something wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you, your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I, should, at times, regularly communicate our observations upon the general state of the work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am connected with many.”[543]

This “quadruple alliance,” as Charles Wesley called it, lasted till Whitefield’s death. Then, as all readers of Methodist history are well aware, there was, in more respects than one, a distressing rupture.

Whitefield continued his pulpit labours, as far as he was able; and also wrote letters in abundance. Hence the following extracts from his correspondence.

John Fawcett, afterwards Doctor of Divinity, and, for above half a century, a laborious minister of Christ in Yorkshire, had recently begun to preach, and, having been convinced of sin under Whitefield’s ministry, he wrote to him, asking his advice. Part of the answer was as follows:――

“London, September 1, 1766. I have been so often imposed upon by letters from strangers, that it is high time to be a little more cautious” [in answering them]. “Besides, bodily weakness prevents my writing as formerly; but your letters seem to evidence simplicity of heart. If truly called to the glorious work of the ministry, of which I can be no judge at this distance, I wish you much prosperity in the name of the Lord. The language of my soul is, ‘Would to God that all the Lord’s servants were prophets!’ A clear head, and an honest, upright, disinterested, warm heart, with a good elocution, and a moderate degree of learning, will carry you through all, and enable you to do wonders. You will not fail to pray for a decayed, but, thanks be to God! not a disbanded soldier. Whether I shall ever visit Yorkshire again, is only known to Him, who holdeth the stars in His right hand.”[544]

The next extract is from a letter addressed to a gentleman at Wisbeach:――

“London, September 25, 1766. I am sorry your letter has been so long unanswered; but bodily weakness, and a multiplicity of correspondents, at home and abroad, must be pleaded as excuses. The shout of a King is yet heard in the Methodist camp. Had I wings, I would gladly fly from pole to pole; but they are clipped by the feeble labours of thirty years. Twice or thrice a week, I am permitted to ascend my gospel-throne. Pray that the last glimmering of an expiring taper may be blessed to the guiding of many wandering souls to the Lamb of God.”[545]

The next was written to Mr. Gustavus Gidley, an officer of Excise, who was the principal founder of Wesley’s Society in Exeter, and the chief promoter of Wesley’s first chapel in that city:――

“London, October 2, 1766. The love of Christ constrains me to wish you joy. Of what? Of being made partaker of the grace and cross of Christ. You will find that both are inseparably connected. God be praised that you have an inclination to invite others to partake of your joy in the Lord. Thus, your brother Matthew the publican did. He made a feast. Jesus, that friend of publicans and sinners, was there. With such He is now; and with such, to all eternity, He will be surrounded in the kingdom of glory. There you and I must strive which will shout loudest, ‘Grace, grace!’ And why should not this contest begin on earth? It will, it must, if the kingdom of God be _within us_. Look continually unto Jesus. That He may be the Alpha and Omega――the beginning and end of all your thoughts, words, and deeds, is the earnest prayer of, dear sir,

“Your brother sinner,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[546]

Not unfrequently was Whitefield accused of disloyalty. From first to last, all such charges were absolutely false and calumnious. If he erred at all, it was in expressing his attachment to the throne and government of the day, in language stronger than they merited. His eulogiums of George II. were extravagant, but it would be unjust to designate them insincere. Everywhere, at home and abroad, he availed himself of every opportunity to evince his fidelity to his rightful sovereign, and his respect for the House of Hanover. This, at the time, was of more than ordinary importance. Jacobite and popish plots were numerous. Traitors existed in abundance. Loyal men were needed, and declarations of loyalty were of greater value than at present, when treason is not so rampant as it was in the days of the Pretender. Such facts will help to explain the following incident:――

On October 1, Her Royal Highness Princess Caroline Matilda, sister of George III., at the age of sixteen, was married to the worthless king of Denmark. The ceremony was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in the Grand Council Chamber at St. James’s, in the presence of the Royal Family and a large number of the English nobility. The puny king of Denmark was not present; but Her Royal Highness’s brother, the Duke of York, acted as his proxy. On the day after the marriage, at half-past six o’clock in the morning, the young queen set out for Harwich, to embark for Denmark, being escorted by a detachment of Horse Guards, and a numerous train of attendants. On the same day, says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “The Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached, at the Tabernacle, in praise of the queen of Denmark, and concluded with a fervent prayer for her preservation and good journey.”

This was an odd kind of service for worn-out Whitefield to undertake; but loyalty to the House of Hanover led him for once to use his “gospel-throne” in sounding the praises, not of King Jesus, but of the unfortunate queen of Denmark.

Among others, who now began to render assistance in Whitefield’s London chapels, was the saintly Fletcher, vicar of Madeley.[547] It is not improbable that this was one of the results of the “quadruple alliance,” formed two months before. Be that as it may, the following extract from Whitefield’s letter to Mr. Powys will interest the reader:――

“London, November 1, 1766. Dear Mr. Fletcher is become a scandalous Tottenham Court preacher. I trust he will come down into your parts, baptized with the Holy Ghost. Dear Mr. Romaine has been much owned in good Lady Huntingdon’s chapel” (at Bath). “I am to go thither next week. Dear Mr. Madan is detained at Aldwinkle, by his children having the small-pox in town. The shout of a King is yet heard in the Methodist camp. The glorious cry, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’ is frequently sounding in our years. Had we more reproach, and were we more scandalous, more good would be done. Several promise well. Some say _shibboleth_ with a good grace, and very proper accent; others, as yet, can only say _sibboleth_; but I have heard of one who can teach the tongue of the stammerer to speak plain. Good Lady Huntingdon is an excellent school-mistress in this way. But I must have done. A dear company of ministerial cast-outs are coming to breakfast under my despised roof. I cannot die. Cold bathing and cool weather brace me up.”

Whitefield went to Bath, as he intended; and, whilst there, wrote to his faithful friend, Mr. Keen, as follows:――

“Bath, November 12, 1766. I have been low ever since my coming here. The Bath air, I believe, will never agree with me long. However, if good is done, all will be well. They tell me, that Sunday and last night were seasons of power. Some, we trust, were made willing. I hope you enjoy much of God in town. Surely, London is the Jerusalem of England. Happy they who know the day of their visitation! Remember me to all at the Tabernacle. I hope to write to Mr. Fletcher to-morrow or next day.”

“Bath, November 20, 1766. On Tuesday evening, I preached at Bristol, to a very crowded auditory, though the weather was very foul. Last night” (Wednesday) “I administered the sacrament there. We used near eight bottles of wine. I trust some tasted of the new wine of the kingdom. I want just one week more to settle Bristol affairs; and have, therefore, written to dear Mr. Jesse[548] to stay two or three weeks at London. Mr. Howell Davies,[549] who, they say, is expected here next week, may then officiate for that space of time at Bath, and, at Mr. Jesse’s leaving London, may go up to town. I beg that Captain Joss would go through with the Tabernacle work, and stick to it with his whole heart. I hope, at farthest, to be in London by next Tuesday se’nnight, and to preach at the Tabernacle the following evening. I was afraid my wife would get cold by her late excursions, as, at other times, she is so much confined. Be pleased to show this to her.”

“Bristol, November 23, 1766. Such a numerous brilliant assembly of the mighty and noble, I never saw attend before at Bath. Everything is so promising, that I was constrained to give notice of preaching next Sunday. Congregations have been very large and very solemn. O what Bethels has Jesus given to us! O that God would make my way into every town in England! I long to break up fresh ground. I am just come here, weary, but am going to speak a few words.”

Captain Joss has just been mentioned, and deserves further notice. Torial Joss was born on September 29, 1731, at Auck-Medden, a small village, on the sea coast, about twenty miles north of Aberdeen. His father died when Torial was very young; his mother neglected him; and he went to sea. The vessel in which he sailed was taken by the French, and he became an inmate of a foreign prison, where his sufferings were great. At the age of fifteen, he returned to Scotland; was seized by a press-gang; and sent on board a man-of-war. He made his escape; travelled to Sunderland; and bound himself an apprentice to the captain of a coasting vessel, belonging to Robin Hood’s Bay. By overhearing a religious conversation, and by reading the works of Bunyan, and “The Whole Duty of Man,” he was converted. The Methodist preachers visited Robin Hood’s Bay; a number of the people were convinced of sin; and Wesley came and formed them into a Society. Previous to this, Torial had begun to pray and exhort in public; and Wesley encouraged him to continue. He was now about eighteen years of age, and became a member of Wesley’s Society. When his apprenticeship expired, he was appointed first mate of his captain’s vessel. Wherever the ship put into port, he tried to preach, and, in some instances, suffered cruel persecution. At Shields, a press-gang dragged him through the town, amid shoutings and triumph, and sent him on board a tender, where he was kept a prisoner for seven weeks. The profane swearing and the obscene language of the crew were terrific trials; and, added to this, having but twenty minutes in forty-eight hours on deck, he was nearly suffocated with the foul air and heat. Soon after his release, he was made captain of a ship, set up regular worship, and, as often as the weather would permit, preached regularly to his crew. During a long detention at Berwick-upon-Tweed, his preaching to the crowds was so successful, that a gentleman wrote to Whitefield, telling him Joss was sailing to London, in a vessel named the _Hartley Trader_, but which the people nicknamed “The Pulpit.” On arriving in the Thames, Joss was surprised by being told that Whitefield had announced him to preach in the Tabernacle. Whitefield was so gratified with the sermon, that he urged the captain to quit the compass, the chart, and the ocean, for the Christian pulpit. After considerable delay, Joss, in 1766, yielded to Whitefield’s wish, and, henceforth, acted as one of his assistants. In London, his congregations were crowds, and his sermons full of converting power. Four or five months every year he spent in itinerating, regularly visiting Bristol, Gloucestershire, and South Wales, and, occasionally, other parts of the kingdom. In Wales, especially, the people followed him in multitudes, and, on Sundays, would travel twenty miles to hear him. He died in 1797, and was interred in Tottenham Court Road chapel.[550] Berridge used to call him “The Archdeacon of Tottenham.”[551]

Another of Whitefield’s helpers must be introduced. Captain Scott, son of Richard Scott, Esq., of Betton, in the county of Salop, belonged to the 7th regiment of dragoons. He was present at the famous battle, at Minden, on the 1st of August, 1759, attached to the cavalry of the right wing, commanded by Lord George Sackville. After this, he became the subject of powerful religious impressions, and made it his daily practice to read the psalms and lessons of the day. In due time, he heard Romaine, and found peace with God. He soon began to preach. Fletcher of Madeley, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, wrote:――

“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott――a captain of the truth, a bold soldier of Jesus Christ. He boldly launches into an irregular usefulness. For some months, he has exhorted his dragoons daily; for some weeks, he has preached publicly at Leicester, in the Methodist meeting-house, in his regimentals, to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular ones pursue him with hue and cry; but, I believe, he is quite beyond their reach. I believe this _red coat_ will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me.”

Whitefield heard of the military preacher, and, on February 12, 1767, wrote to him as follows:――

“What, not answer so modest a request as to send dear Captain Scott a few lines! God forbid! I must again welcome him into the field of battle. I must entreat him to keep his rank as a captain, and not suffer any persuasions to influence him to descend to the lower degree of a common soldier. If God shall choose a red-coat preacher, who shall say unto Him, ‘What doest Thou?’

‘Strong in the Lord’s almighty power, And armed in panoply divine, Firm may’st thou stand in danger’s hour, And prove the strength of Jesus thine. The helmet of salvation take; The Lord the Spirit’s conquering sword; Speak from the word; in lightning speak; Cry out, and thunder from the Lord.’

“Gladly would I come, and, in my poor way, endeavour to strengthen your hands; but, alas! I am fit for nothing but, as an invalid, to be put into some garrison, and then put my hand to some old gun. Blessed be the Captain of our salvation for drafting out young champions to reconnoitre and attack the enemy. You will beat the march in every letter and bid the common soldiers not halt, but go forward. Hoping one day to see your face in the flesh, and more than hoping to see you crowned with glory in the kingdom of heaven, I am, my dear captain, yours in our all-glorious Captain-General,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[552]

As yet, Whitefield had not seen Captain Scott; but he requested him to come and preach in London. “I have invited the captain,” said Whitefield to the Tabernacle congregation, “to bring his artillery to the Tabernacle rampart, and try what execution he can do here.” Soon after this, Captain Scott sold his commission, and, for upwards of twenty years, was one of the supplies of the Tabernacle pulpit.[553]

In this same year, 1766, Whitefield entered into correspondence with another distinguished man, who was destined, for a brief period, to be one of his successors at the Tabernacle and at Tottenham Court Road chapel. Rowland Hill, the sixth son of Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., was now twenty-one years of age. He had been to school at Eton, and, for the last two years, had been an undergraduate at Cambridge. Here he became intimately acquainted with good old Berridge, of Everton, and scarcely a week elapsed without their holding religious intercourse with each other. Rowland, even now, was full of religious fire and energy and boldness. He had already been the means of awakening anxiety about their souls in several of his fellow-students. He had also visited the gaol, and the sick, and had begun to preach in several places in Cambridge, and in the adjacent villages. This brought upon him the severest censure of his college. Mobs also commenced to insult him; and, at length, the opposition he encountered became so serious, that he wrote to Whitefield for advice. Whitefield’s reply was as follows:――

“LONDON, _December 27, 1766_.

“About thirty-four years ago, the master of Pembroke College, where I was educated, took me to task for visiting the sick, and going to the prisons. In my haste, I said, ‘Sir, if it displeaseth you, I will go no more.’ My heart smote me immediately. I repented, and went again. He heard of it, and threatened; but, for fear he should be looked upon as a persecutor, let me alone. The hearts of all are in the Redeemer’s hands. I would not have you give way, no not for a moment. The storm is too great to hold long. Visiting the sick and imprisoned, and instructing the ignorant, are the very vitals of true and undefiled religion. If threatened, denied degree, or expelled for _this_, it will be the best degree you can take――a glorious preparative for, and a blessed presage of, future usefulness. I have seen the dreadful consequences of giving way and looking back. How many, by this wretched cowardice, have been turned into pillars, not of useful, but of useless salt! _Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum._ Now is the time to prove the strength of Jesus yours. If opposition did not so much abound, your consolations would not so abound. Blind as he is, Satan sees some great good coming. We never prospered so much at Oxford, as when we were hissed at and reproached as we walked along the street. Go on, therefore, my dear man, go on. Old Berridge, I believe, would give you the same advice. You are honoured in sharing his reproach and name. God be praised, that you are helped to bless when others blaspheme. Do not drop the Bible and old books. You write good sense. Nothing is wanting but to write it in a proper manner. God bless, direct, and prosper you! He will, He will. Good Lady Huntingdon is in town. She will rejoice to hear you are under the cross. You will not want her prayers, or the prayers of, my dear young honest friend,

“Yours, in the all-conquering Jesus,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.[554]

“To Mr. Rowland Hill,

“At St. John’s College, Cambridge.”

For above thirty years, Whitefield had been the butt of persecution, and, therefore, was not unprepared to give advice to young Rowland Hill. He was still hunted by the hatred of his enemies. Among other publications, there was issued, about this period, a sixpenny pamphlet, in folio, with the title, “The Celebrated Lecture upon Heads,” most of which is too coarse and blasphemous to be quoted. One specimen, concerning Whitefield, must suffice.

“Behold here one of the _righteous over-much_――yet nought doth he give away in charity! No, no! He is the bell-wether of the flock, who hath broken down _orthodoxy’s bounds_, and now riots on the _common of hypocrisy_. With _one_ eye he looks up to heaven, to make his congregation think he is _devout_, that’s his _spiritual_ eye; and with the other eye he looks down to see what he can get, and that’s his _carnal_ eye; and thus, with jokes flowing down his face, he says, or seems to say, or, at least with your permission, we’ll attempt to say for him, ‘Bretheren! bretheren! bretheren! The word bretheren comes from the Tabernacle, because we all _breathe-there-in_. If ye want _rouzing_, I’ll _rouze_ you. I’ll beat a _tat-too_ upon the parchment cases of your consciences, and whip the _devil_ about like a _whirl-a-gig_.’”

_Quantum sufficit!_ The remainder is a great deal worse than this.

Another pamphlet of the same description, price eighteen-pence, was entitled “The Methodist and Mimic. A Tale in Hudibrastic Verse. By Peter Paragraph. Inscribed to Samuel Foote, Esq.” The gist of this foul publication is, that Whitefield sends one of his congregation to Foote, with a proposal that the comedian should turn preacher; and, of course, Samuel Foote, Esq., rejects the proposal with disdain.

One more must be mentioned: “The Methodist. A Poem. By the Author of the Powers of the Pen, and the Curate. London, 1766.” (4to. pp. 54.) Some parts of this impious publication are obscene, and attribute to Whitefield behaviour of the most infamous and impure description. The general purport of it is to describe the devil making a tour of discovery, to find some one to manage his affairs on earth, so that he himself might have leisure to attend to his government in hell. With this object in view,

“he searched, without avail, Each meeting, dungeon, court, and jail, Each mart of villainy, where vice Presides, and virtue bears no price.”

But nowhere could he find an agent suited to his mind, till he got to Tottenham Court Road chapel, where he discovered Whitefield. For the sake of gold, Whitefield became his terrestrial viceroy, and swore fealty to him. One of the devil’s requirements was, that, because what Whitefield _did_ was contrary to what he _said_, his eyes ought to look different ways; and, accordingly, they were twisted. Describing Whitefield’s sermons, the writer says:――

“He knows his _Master’s_ realm so well, His sermons are a _map_ of hell, An _Ollio_ made of conflagration, Of _gulphs_ of brimstone, and _damnation_, _Eternal torments_, _furnace_, _worm_, _Hell-fire_, a _whirlwind_, and a _storm_.”

An apology is almost needed for the insertion of such profanity as this, and yet, without it, it is impossible to convey to the reader an adequate idea of the ridicule and odium cast upon dying Whitefield. Vile as are the extracts given, much viler remain unquoted.

Whitefield concluded the year 1766 by writing one of his characteristic letters to Thomas Powys, Esq., who was entertaining, at his mansion in Shropshire, during Christmastide, the Rev. Messrs. Venn, Ryland, Dr. Conyers, and Powley, vicar of Dewsbury.[555]

“AT MY TOTTENHAM COURT BETHEL,

“_Six in the Morning, December 30, 1766_.

“MY VERY DEAR SIR,――The Christmas holiday season has prevented me sending an immediate answer to your last kind letter. The love therein expressed shall be returned, by praying for the writer’s whole self, and the honourable, Christian, and ministerial circle with which you are at present happily surrounded. _Four Methodist parsons!_ Honourable title! so long as it is attended with the cross. When fashionable, we will drop it. _Four Methodist parsons!_ Enough, when Jesus says, ‘Loose them and let them go,’ to set a whole kingdom on fire for God. I wish them prosperity in the name of the Lord.

“To-morrow, God willing, and on Thursday also, with many hundreds more, I intend to take the sacrament upon it, that I will begin to be a Christian. Though I long to go to heaven, to see my glorious Master, what a poor figure shall I make, among saints, confessors, and martyrs, without some deeper signatures of His divine impress――without more scars of Christian honour!

“Our truly noble mother in Israel is come to London full of them. _Crescit sub pondere virtus._ Happy they who have the honour of her acquaintance! Highly honoured are the ministers, who have the honour of preaching for and serving her!

“O this single eye,――this disinterested spirit,――this freedom from worldly hopes and worldly fears,――this flaming zeal,――this daring to be singularly good,――this holy ambition to lead the van! O, it is, what? a heaven upon earth! O for a plerophory of faith! to be filled with the Holy Ghost! This is the grand point. All our lukewarmness, all our timidity, all our backwardness to do good, to spend and be spent for God,――all is owing to our want of more of that faith, which is the inward, heartfelt, self-evident demonstration of things not seen.

“But whither am I going? Pardon me, good sir. I keep you from better company. Praying that all of you (if you live to be fifty-two) may not be such dwarfs in the Divine life as I am, I hasten to subscribe myself, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Whitefield began the year 1767 by writing a preface to the third edition of the collected works of Bunyan, published in two large folio volumes (pp. 856 and 882), admirably printed, and containing curious and well-executed illustrations. The title was, “The Works of that Eminent Servant of Christ, Mr. John Bunyan, Minister of the Gospel, and formerly Pastor of a Congregation at Bedford. With Copperplates, adapted to the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Holy War, etc., in Two Volumes. The Third Edition. To which are now added The Divine Emblems, and several other Pieces, which were never printed in any former Collection, with a Recommendatory Preface by the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London: printed for W. Johnston, in Ludgate Street; and E. and C. Dilly, in the Poultry, near the Mansion House. 1767.”[556]

Whitefield’s preface is dated January 3, 1767. Two extracts from it must suffice. In reference to the fact that Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress was written in Bedford Gaol, Whitefield remarks:――

“Ministers never write or preach so well as when under the cross. The Spirit of Christ and of glory then rests upon them. It was this, no doubt, that made the Puritans of the last century such burning and shining lights. When cast out by the black Bartholomew Act, and driven from their respective charges to preach in barns and fields, in the highways and hedges, they, in an especial manner, wrote and preached as men having authority. Though dead, by their writings they yet speak. A peculiar unction attends them to this very hour. For these thirty years past, I have remarked that the more true and vital religion has revived, either at home or abroad, the more the good old Puritanical writings, or the authors of a like stamp, who lived and died in the communion of the Church of England, have been called for.”

Then again, with reference to what, throughout the whole of his career, was one of Whitefield’s favourite virtues, namely, catholicity of spirit, he writes:――

“I must own that what more particularly endears Mr. Bunyan to my heart is this, he was of a catholic spirit. The want of _water adult baptism_, with this man of God, was no bar to outward Christian communion. And I am persuaded, that if, like him, we were more deeply and experimentally baptized into the benign and gracious influences of the blessed Spirit, we should be less baptized into the waters of strife, about circumstantials and non-essentials. We should have but one grand, laudable, disinterested strife, namely, who should live, preach, and exalt the ever-loving, altogether lovely Jesus most.”

Just at this period, Whitefield took under his patronage a young man, who, if not a tinker, was quite as poor as the “immortal dreamer.” Cornelius Winter, the son of a shoemaker, and bred in a workhouse, was now in the twenty-fifth year of his age. For twelve long years, he had been the drudge and the butt of a drunken brute in Bunhill Row. The poor workhouse lad had been converted by attending Whitefield’s Tabernacle, and had become a member of its Society. During the last year or two, he had been an itinerant preacher, and now he applied to Whitefield to send him, as a minister, to America. Whitefield replied:――

“LONDON, _January 29, 1767_.

“DEAR MR. WINTER,――Your letter met with proper acceptance. The first thing to be done now is to get some knowledge of the Latin language. We can talk of the method to be pursued, at your return to London. Mr. Green[557] would make a suitable master. No time should be lost. One would hope that the various humiliations you have met with were intended as preparations for future exaltations. The greatest preferment under heaven is to be an able, painful, faithful, successful, suffering, cast-out minister of the New Testament. That this may be your happy lot is the hearty prayer of yours, etc.,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[558]

On coming to London, Cornelius Winter waited upon Whitefield. He writes:――

“Mr. Whitefield gave me a mild reception. The interview was short. He said he should expect me to preach in the Tabernacle next morning at six o’clock, and he appointed a time when I should come to him again. I heard him in the evening. He announced that a stranger, recommended by Mr. Berridge, would preach on the morrow morning. I had little rest that night, and prayed, rather than studied for the service.”

This was in February, 1767. The result was, Whitefield desired Winter to procure testimonials from the places he had visited, and also to write him an account of his conversion. Winter says:――

“For several days, Mr. Whitefield kept me in suspense. At last, he set me upon a little business, and told me he should expect me to preach two mornings in the week. He appointed me particular times when I was to call upon him; and, besides sending me upon errands, of which he always had a great number, he set me to transcribe some of his manuscripts. He shewed himself much dissatisfied with my writing and orthography; but he desired me to take a lodging near the chapel, where he could conveniently send for me; gave me a little money to defray my expenses; and, by degrees, brought me into a capacity to be useful to him. Soon after, he proposed my going to Mr. Green’s for a few hours in the day, to be initiated into the Latin grammar; but he interrupted the design by requiring a close attention to his own business, and the large demand he made of my pulpit services. A single quarter of a year closed my school exercise, in which I hardly gained knowledge enough to decline _Musa_. It was plain Mr. Whitefield did not intend to promote my literary improvement. Indeed, he said, Latin was of little or no use, and that they who wish to enter upon it late in life, had better endeavour to acquire a good knowledge of their mother tongue. Having recently attended Mr. Wesley’s conference, and having heard him speak to the same effect, he was confirmed in this sentiment, and discouraged my perseverance.

“Perhaps it would be putting the picture of so valuable a man, as Mr. Whitefield was, into too deep a shade, to say that he was not a fit person for a young man in humble circumstances to be connected with. He was not satisfied with deficient abilities, but he did not sufficiently encourage the use of the lamp for their improvement. The attention of a youth, designed for the ministry, was too much diverted from the main object, and devoted too much to objects comparatively trifling. I was considered as much the steward of his house as his assistant in the ministry. While I was kept in bay and at anchor, many, piloted by him, set sail, and I at last knew not whether I was to indulge a hope for America or not. My fidelity being proved, I became one of the family, slept in the room of my honoured patron, and had the privilege to sit at his table. I judged I was where I should be, and was determined never to flinch from the path of duty, nor intentionally to grieve the man, who had many burdens upon him, and for whom I could have laid down my life.”[559]

Considering the circumstances of Cornelius Winter, there is a little unseemly grumbling in the foregoing extract; but let it pass. The quondam workhouse boy seems to have been an inmate of Whitefield’s house for about eighteen months; and as he is the only one, _thus privileged_, who has left behind him any account of Whitefield’s domestic habits and public life, this is a fitting place to introduce what he says concerning the patron to whom he owed so much.

In reference to the composition of sermons, the mode of conducting public services, and action in the pulpit, Winter writes:――

“The time Mr. Whitefield set apart for preparations for the pulpit, during my connection with him, was not distinguished from the time he appropriated to other business. If he wanted to write a pamphlet, he was closeted; nor would he allow access to him, except on an emergency, while he was engaged in the work. But I never knew him engaged in the composition of a sermon, until he was on board ship, when he employed himself partly in the composition of sermons, and partly in reading the history of England. He had formed a design of writing the history of Methodism, but never entered upon it. He was never more in retirement on a Saturday than on another day; nor sequestered at any particular time for a period longer than he used for his ordinary devotions. I never met with anything like the skeleton of a sermon among his papers, with which I was permitted to be familiar, and I believe he knew nothing of such a kind of exercise as the planning of a sermon.

“Usually, for an hour or two before he entered the pulpit, he claimed retirement; and, on the Sabbath morning especially, he was accustomed to have Clarke’s Bible, Matthew Henry’s Comment, and Cruden’s Concordance within his reach. His frame at that time was more than ordinarily devotional; I say more than ordinarily, because, though there was a vast vein of pleasantry usually in him, the intervals of conversation then appeared to be filled up with private ejaculation and with praise.

“His rest was much interrupted, and he often said at the close of an address, ‘I got this sermon when most of you were fast asleep.’ He made very minute observations; and, in one way or another, the occurrences of the week, or of the day, furnished him with matter for the pulpit. When an extraordinary trial was going on, he would be present, and I have known him, at the close of a sermon, avail himself of the formality of the judge putting on the black cap to pronounce sentence. With his eyes full of tears, and his heart almost too big to admit of speech, he would say, after a momentary pause, ‘I am now going to put on my condemning cap. Sinner, I must do it. I must pronounce sentence upon thee.’ And then, in a strain of tremendous eloquence, he would recite our Lord’s words, ‘Depart, ye cursed.’ It was only by hearing him, and by beholding his attitude and his tears, that the effect could be conceived.

“My intimate knowledge of him enables me to acquit him of the charge of affectation. He always appeared to enter the pulpit with a countenance that indicated he had something of importance to divulge, and was anxious for the effect of the communication. His gravity on his descent was the same. As soon as he was seated in his chair, he usually vomited a considerable quantity of blood.

“He was averse to much singing after preaching, supposing it diverted attention from the subject of his sermon. Nothing awkward, nothing careless appeared about him in the pulpit. Whether he frowned or smiled, whether he looked grave or placid, it was nature acting in him. Professed orators might object to his hands being lifted up too high, and it is to be lamented that in that attitude, rather than in any other, he is represented in print. His own reflection upon that picture was, when it was first put into his hands, ‘Sure I do not look such a sour creature as this sets me forth. If I thought I did, I should hate myself.’ The attitude was very transient, and always accompanied by expressions which would justify it. He sometimes had occasion to speak of Peter going out and weeping bitterly; and, then, he had a fold of his gown at command, which he put before his face with as much gracefulness as familiarity.

“I hardly ever knew him go through a sermon without weeping, and I believe his were the tears of sincerity. His voice was often interrupted by his affection; and I have heard him say in the pulpit, ‘You blame me for weeping, but how can I help it, when you will not weep for yourselves, though your souls are upon the verge of destruction, and, for aught I know, you are hearing your last sermon!’ Sometimes he wept exceedingly, stamped loudly and passionately, and was frequently so overcome, that nature required some little time to compose itself.

“When he treated upon the sufferings of our Saviour, it was with great pathos. As though Gethsemane were in sight, he would cry, stretching out his hand, ‘Look yonder! What is that 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?’ This frequently occurred; but though we often knew what was coming, it was as new to us as if we had never heard it before.

“The beautiful apostrophe, of the prophet Jeremiah, ‘O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord!’ was very subservient to him, and was never used impertinently. He abounded with anecdotes, which, though not always recited verbatim, were very just as to the matter of them. On the Sabbath morning, he dealt far more in the explanatory and doctrinal mode of preaching, than, perhaps, at any other time; and occasionally made a little, but by no means improper, shew of learning. If he had read upon astronomy in the course of the week, you would be sure to discover it. He had his charms for the learned as well as for the unlearned. The peer and the peasant alike went away satisfied.

“This was his work, in London, at one period of his life. After administering the Lord’s supper to several hundred communicants at half-past six o’clock in the morning, he, in the forenoon, read the Liturgy, and preached full an hour. In the afternoon, he again read prayers and preached. At half-past five, he preached again, and, afterwards, addressed a large Society. At the Society meeting, widows, married people, young men, and spinsters were placed separately in the area of the Tabernacle. Hundreds used to stay, and receive from him, in a colloquial style, various exhortations, comprised in short sentences, and suitable to their various stations.

“Perhaps he never preached greater sermons than at six in the morning; for at that hour he did preach, winter and summer, on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. At these times, his congregations were of the select description. Young men received admonitions similar to what were given in the Society meetings. ‘Beware of being golden apprentices, silver journeymen, and copper masters,’ was one of the cautions I remember being given. His style was now colloquial, with little use of motion; pertinent expositions, with suitable remarks; and all comprehended within the hour.

“Christian experience principally was the subject of his Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evening lectures; when, frequently having funeral sermons to preach, the character and experience of the dead helped to elucidate the subject.

“Mr. Whitefield adopted the custom of the inhabitants of New England, in their best days, of beginning the Sabbath at six o’clock on Saturday evenings. The custom could not be observed by many, but it was convenient to a few. Now ministers of every description found a peculiar pleasure in relaxing their minds from the fatigues of study. It was also an opportunity peculiarly suited to apprentices and journeymen in some businesses, which allowed of their leaving work sooner than on other days, and of availing themselves of, at least, the sermon.

“The peculiar talents he possessed can be but faintly guessed from his sermons in print. The eighteen, taken in shorthand, and faithfully transcribed by Mr. Gurney, have been supposed to do discredit to his memory, and, therefore, they were suppressed; but much of his genuine preaching may be collected from them. They were far from being the best specimens that might have been produced. He preached many of them when, in fact, he was almost incapable of preaching at all. His constitution, long before they were taken, had received its shock, and all of them, except the two last, were the productions of a Wednesday evening, when, by the business of the day, he was fatigued and worn out. He was then like an ascending Elijah, and many were eager to catch his dropping mantle. In the sermons referred to, there are many jewels, though not connected in proper order. Whatever invidious remarks may be made upon his written discourses, they cannot invalidate his preaching. Mr. Toplady called him the prince of preachers, and with good reason, for none in our day preached with the like effect.”

So much in reference to Whitefield as a preacher, to which may be added another fact stated by Cornelius Winter, namely, that, excepting Andrew Kinsman, most of Whitefield’s substitutes at the Tabernacle and at Tottenham Court chapel were very inferior preachers to himself, and that, in consequence, the congregations, during his absence, were greatly diminished. Notwithstanding this, however, “conversions were very frequent.”[560]

Winter’s portraiture of Whitefield will not be perfect without the addition of what he says respecting the renowned preacher’s private character and habits. He continues:――

“Mr. Whitefield was accessible but to few. He was cautious in admitting people to him. He would never be surprised into a conversation. You could not knock at his door and be allowed to enter at any time. ‘Who is it?’ ‘What is his business?’ and such-like enquiries usually preceded admission; and, if admission were granted, it was thus, ‘Come to-morrow morning at six o’clock, perhaps five, or immediately after preaching. If later, I cannot see you.’

“A person consulting him upon going into the ministry, might expect to be treated with severity, if not well recommended, or if he had not something about him particularly engaging. One man, on saying, in answer to his enquiry, that he was a tailor, was dismissed with, ‘Go to rag-fair, and buy old clothes.’ Another, who was admitted to preach in the vestry one winter’s morning at six o’clock, took for his text, ‘These that have turned the world upside down have come hither also.’ ‘That man shall come here no more,’ said Mr. Whitefield. ‘If God had called him to preach, he would have furnished him with a proper text.’ A letter well written, as to style, orthography, and decency, would prepossess him much in favour of a person.

“He used too much severity to young people, and required too much from them. He connected circumstances too humiliating with public services, in a young man with whom he could take liberty; urging that it was necessary as a curb to the vanity of human nature, and referred to the young Roman orators, who, after being exalted by applauses, were sent upon the most trifling errands. His maxim was, if you love me, you will serve me disinterestedly; hence he settled no certain income, or a very slender one, upon his dependants, many of whom were sycophants, and, while they professed to serve him, underhandedly served themselves. Through this defect, his charity in Georgia was materially injured, owing to the wrong conduct of some who insinuated themselves into his favour by humouring his weakness, and letting him act and speak without contradiction. He was impatient of contradiction, but this is a fault to be charged upon almost all great people.

“No time was to be wasted; and his expectations generally went before the ability of his servants to perform his commands. He was very exact to the time appointed for his stated meals. A few minutes’ delay would be considered a great fault. He was irritable, but soon appeased. Not being patient enough, one day, to receive a reason for his being disappointed, he hurt the mind of one who was studious to please; but, on reflection, he burst into tears, saying, ‘I shall live to be a poor peevish old man, and everybody will be tired of me.’ He never commanded haughtily, and always took care to applaud when a person did right. He never indulged parties at his table; but a select few might now and then breakfast with him, dine with him on a Sunday, or sup with him on a Wednesday night. In the last-mentioned indulgence, he was scrupulously exact to break up in time. In the height of a conversation, I have known him abruptly say, ‘But we forget ourselves;’ and, rising from his seat and advancing to the door, would add, ‘Come, gentlemen, it is time for all good folks to be at home.’

“Whether only by himself, or having but a second, his table must be spread elegantly, though it produced but a loaf and a cheese. He was unjustly charged with being given to appetite. His table was never spread with variety. A cow-heel was his favourite dish, and I have known him cheerfully say, ‘How surprised would the world be, if they were to peep upon Dr. Squintum, and see a cow-heel only upon his table.’ He was extremely neat in his person, and in everything about him. Not a paper must be out of place, or be put up irregularly. Each part of the furniture, likewise, must be in its proper position before we retired to rest. He said he did not think he should die easy, if he thought his gloves were not where they ought to be. There was no rest after four in the morning, nor sitting up after ten in the evening.

“He never made a purchase without paying the money immediately. He was truly generous, and seldom denied relief. More was expected from him than was meet. He was tenacious in his friendship. He felt sensibly when he was deserted, and would remark, ‘The world and the church ring changes.’ He dreaded the thought of outliving his usefulness. He often dined among his friends; and usually connected a comprehensive prayer with his thanksgiving when the table was dismissed, in which he noticed particular cases relative to the family. He never protracted his visit long after dinner. He often appeared tired of popularity; and said, he almost envied the man who could take his choice of food at an eating-house, and pass unnoticed. He apprehended he should not glorify God in his death by any remarkable testimony; and he desired to die suddenly.”

Cornelius Winter’s critique on Whitefield is unartistic, but it is not, on that account, the less valuable. Facts are not lost among words, as is the case too often, in the philosophic and eloquent eulogies, or censures, written by men who have a greater wish to display their own cleverness than to pourtray the life and character of the person on whom they exercise their skill. In some of his statements, Winter may have been, unconsciously to himself, somewhat swayed by his relationship to Whitefield; but, generally speaking, his description of Whitefield’s preaching, and of his spirit and habits in domestic life, is the most exact that has ever yet been published. The foregoing extracts may be long, but they were written by a man who, during Whitefield’s last two years in England, read prayers in Whitefield’s Tottenham Court Road chapel, assisted in Whitefield’s study, sat at Whitefield’s table, and occupied a bed in the same room as Whitefield