The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, Volume 1 (of 2)

by L. Tyerman

January to August, 1739.

Whitefield began the new year as gloriously as he ended that which had just expired. He received the sacrament, preached twice, expounded twice, attended a Moravian love-feast in Fetter Lane, where he "spent the whole night in prayer, psalms, and thanksgivings;" and then pronounced "this to be the happiest New Year's Day he had ever seen."

The love-feast at Fetter Lane was a memorable one. Besides about sixty Moravians, there were present not fewer than seven of the Oxford Methodists, namely, John and Charles Wesley, George Whitefield, Westley Hall, Benjamin Ingham, Charles Kinchin, and Richard Hutchins,—all of them ordained clergymen of the Church of England. Wesley writes: "About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we were recovered a little from that awe and amazement at the presence of His majesty, we broke out with one voice, 'We praise Thee, O God; we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord.'" This Pentecost on New Year's Day could never be forgotten. It was a glorious preparation for the herculean work on which Whitefield and the Wesleys were about to enter. No wonder that the year thus begun should be the most remarkable in Methodistic history.

Only four hours after this overwhelming visitation in Fetter Lane, Whitefield was employed in another kind of work. He writes: "January 2. From seven in the morning till three in the afternoon, people came, some telling me what God had done for their souls, and others crying out, 'What shall we do to be saved?'"

Three days afterwards, the seven Oxford Methodists, just mentioned, "held a Conference at Islington, concerning several things of great importance." Whitefield says: "What we were in doubt about, after prayer, we determined by lot, and everything else was carried on with great love, meekness, and devotion. We continued in fasting and prayer till three o'clock, and then parted with a full conviction that God was going to do great things among us."

With the exception of the question whether Charles Wesley ought "to settle at Oxford,"[152] the matters, which were discussed at this the first Methodist Conference, are utterly unknown; but that the members of it were intensely earnest, and that their conviction that something marvellous was about to happen was not the whim of presumptuous fanatics, no one can seriously doubt.

During this momentous week—the first in the year 1739—Whitefield preached six times, and expounded twice or thrice every night. On the first Sunday of the year, January 7, he preached twice, expounded to three Societies, and spent the whole night in prayer and thanksgiving at Fetter Lane. The next day he writes:—

"Monday, January 8. Though I sat up all night, yet God carried me through the work of the day with about an hour's sleep. Expounded in the evening, and confuted a virulent opposer of the doctrine of the new birth, and justification by faith only. Spent the remainder of the evening with our Bands, which are little combinations of six or more Christians meeting together to compare their experiences."

From such extracts, the reader may learn, 1. That Whitefield's labours were gigantic. 2. That he had now fully embraced the doctrine of justification by faith only. 3. That he was in close communion with the Religious Societies, and especially with the Moravian brotherhood.

Though most of the London churches were closed against him, he was enormously popular, and his preaching more powerful than ever. On January 10, after his sermon at Great St. Helen's, £33 were collected towards erecting a church for the Saltzburghers in Georgia; and he himself testifies, concerning his ministry in general, "The Holy Ghost so powerfully worked upon my hearers, pricking their hearts, and melting them into floods of tears, that a spiritual man said, 'He never saw the like before.'"

The time had now arrived for Whitefield to be ordained a priest. Soon after his arrival from Georgia, he wrote as follows, to his friend Harris at Gloucester:—

"London, December 30, 1738.

"I am appointed by the Trustees to be minister of Savannah. The Bishop of London (Doctor Gibson) accepts the title, and has given me letters demissory to any other bishop. I have waited also on Doctor Secker, Bishop of Oxford, who acquaints me that our worthy diocesan, good Bishop Benson, ordains for him to-morrow fortnight at Oxford, and that he will give me letters demissory to him. God be praised! I was praying night and day, whilst on ship-board, that good Bishop Benson, who laid hands on me as a deacon, might now make me a priest. And now my prayer is answered."

In accordance with this arrangement, Whitefield, on January the 10th, set out for Oxford, where he spent the next four days. His Journal of this brief interval is too racy to be omitted. He writes:—

"Friday, January 12. Breakfasted with sixteen or seventeen Christian brethren; expounded and read prayers at the Castle to many devout souls. Afterwards, I waited on the Bishop of Gloucester, who received me very kindly. Waited on the Master of Pembroke; afterwards on the archdeacon. Went to public worship at Pembroke. Supped, prayed, and sung psalms, with a room full of brethren at Mr. F——'s;[153] then adjourned to Corpus Christi College, where God assisted me to talk clearly of the new birth, and justification by faith alone, with one that opposed it.

"Saturday, January 13. Received the holy sacrament at St. Mary's; expounded at F——'s; went with the other candidates for holy orders to subscribe to the Articles, and secretly prayed that we all might have our names written in the book of life. Drank tea with a well-disposed gentleman commoner, and had close conversation with many others at Corpus Christi College.

Sunday, January 14. This, blessed be God, has been a day of fat things. Rose in the morning, and prayed and sung psalms lustily, and with a good courage; and afterwards was ordained priest at Christ's Church. Before, I was a little dissipated, but, at imposition of hands, my mind was in an humble frame, and I received grace in the holy sacrament. That I might begin to make proof of my ministry, I preached and administered the sacrament at the Castle; and preached in the afternoon at St. Alban's, to a crowded congregation. The church was surrounded by gownsmen of all degrees, who stood attentive at the windows during my sermon. God enabled me to preach with the demonstration of the Spirit, and with power, and quite took away my hoarseness, so that I could lift up my voice like a trumpet. After sermon, I joined in giving thanks to our good God for all the mercies He had conferred upon me. Then I read prayers at Carfax; expounded to a large and devout company at a private house; and spent the remainder of the evening with thirteen more, where God gave me great cheerfulness of spirit."

Whitefield was ordained a priest. It is more than possible, if he had waited until the next Ember-days, he would never have been ordained a priest at all. Bishop Benson, from the first, had been a friend to him. Though he had publicly declared he would not ordain any one a deacon under the age of three-and-twenty, he, without solicitation, ordained Whitefield when he was only twenty-one years and a half. He gave him five guineas to assist him in defraying the expenses of taking his B.A. degree at Oxford, and twenty pounds for the poor of Georgia. He ordained him a priest when, with few exceptions, the clergy of the land were beginning to indulge in clamorous complaints against him; and, three weeks after his ordination, gave him another "liberal benefaction for Georgia."[154] And yet, even "the good bishop," as Whitefield so often calls him, was not absolutely contented with him. Hence the following extract from a letter addressed to the Earl of Huntingdon. After giving an account of Whitefield's ordination, the bishop proceeds to say:—

"I hope this will give some satisfaction to my lady, and that she will not have occasion to find fault with your lordship's old tutor. Though mistaken on some points, I think Mr. Whitefield a very pious, well-meaning young man, with good abilities and great zeal. I find his Grace of Canterbury[155] thinks highly of him. I pray God to grant him great success in all his undertakings for the good of mankind, and the revival of true religion and holiness among us in these degenerate days; in which prayer, I am sure, your lordship and my kind good Lady Huntington will most heartily join."[156]

This letter introduces a name which will occupy a prominent place throughout the whole of Whitefield's remaining history. When and where the Countess of Huntingdon first became acquainted with Whitefield we are not informed; but it is evident that already she was interested in the man, and desirous of his ordination. Her well-informed biographer, in his "Life and Times of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon," has crowded his pages with facts, racy, rich, and important; but he sorely tries the patience of his readers by his neglect of dates, and by his consequent chronological confusion. He states, however, that, among the nobility, Lady Townshend, the eccentric mother of George, the first Marquis Townshend, "was the first who extolled the preaching of Whitefield, whom she alternately liked and disliked."[157]

Further, one of the earliest fruits of Whitefield's ministry among the nobility in the metropolis was Lady Anne Frankland, daughter of the Earl of Scarborough, and second wife of Frederick Frankland, Esq., M.P. for Thirsk. For many years, Lady Anne held the situation of Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess Anne, and to the Princesses Amelia and Caroline. By the influence of Lady Frankland, her sisters, the Lady Barbara Leigh and the Lady Henrietta Lumley, were induced to attend Whitefield's preaching, from which they received much spiritual good. This so exasperated Mr. Frankland, that he treated his wife with the utmost cruelty, declared she was the object of his aversion, and threatened to murder her. The result was, a separation followed, and, not long afterwards, Lady Frankland died.[158]

The Earl of Huntingdon and his illustrious wife constantly attended wherever Whitefield preached. Among others whom, at this early period, the Countess of Huntingdon interested in Whitefield's remarkable career, was Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, famed for her beauty, dignity, sprightliness, wit, petulance, pride, and vanity, and of whom it has been said that, by her influence in the Cabinet, she swayed the destinies of Europe with as great effect as did her husband, by his talents, in the field. The great duchess wrote as follows:—

"My dear Lady Huntingdon is always so very good to me, that I must accept your very obliging invitation to accompany you to hear Mr. Whitefield. I do hope that I shall be all the better for all your excellent advice. God knows we all need mending, and none more than myself. I have lived to see great changes in the world, have acted a conspicuous part myself, and now hope, in my old days,[159] to obtain mercy from God, as I never expect any at the hands of my fellow-creatures. The Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Townshend, and Lady Cobham were exceedingly pleased with many observations in Mr. Whitefield's sermon at St. Sepulchre's Church, which has made me lament ever since that I did not hear it, as it might have been the means of doing me some good; for good, alas! I do want, but where among the corrupt sons and daughters of Adam am I to find it?"[160]

Another aristocratic lady, who, in these early days of Methodism, attended the preaching of Whitefield and the Wesleys, was the proud Duchess of Buckingham, a natural daughter of King James the Second, whose first husband was the Earl of Anglesey (from whom she was divorced), and her second, John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, in whose house (now Buckingham Palace) she died, in 1742. This quasi-royal duchess heard the Methodists, but disliked their doctrines. Writing to the Countess of Huntingdon, she said:—

"I thank your ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist preachers. Their doctrines are most repulsive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors, in perpetually endeavouring to level all ranks, and do away with all distinctions. It is monstrous to be told that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive and insulting; and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship should relish any sentiments so much at variance with high rank and good breeding. However, I shall be most happy to accept your kind offer of accompanying me to hear your favourite preacher, and shall wait your arrival. The Duchess of Queensbury insists on my patronising her on this occasion; consequently, she will be an addition to our party."[161]

The Duchess of Queensbury, to whom allusion has just been made, was the second daughter of the Earl of Clarendon, and was celebrated for extraordinary beauty, humour, and vivacity, by Pope, Swift, and other poets, particularly by Prior, in one of his well-known ballads. For a time, she constantly attended the ministry of Whitefield and his brother Methodists, and was specially partial to the preaching of Charles Wesley and Benjamin Ingham.[162]

Other distinguished hearers might be mentioned. Lady Lisburne, for example, was a frequent attendant on the preaching of the first Methodists, and was roused, by their powerful ministry, to a lively concern for eternal things. Also, Lady Hinchinbroke, grand-daughter of the Duke of Montague, and mother of the celebrated John George Montague, fourth Earl of Sandwich. This noble lady was deeply affected by the sermons of Whitefield and Wesley, and wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon:—

"I am extremely sensible of the honour your ladyship has done me by the book which you have sent. Indeed, I stand in need of all your sympathy and all your unwearied exertions; for I feel myself utterly helpless, miserable, and guilty in the sight of heaven; and, were it not for the ray of hope which I have in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, would be driven to despair and ruin. Have you heard where Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Wesley are to preach this week?"[163]

But, leaving his aristocratic hearers, it is time to return to Whitefield himself. On the day after his ordination at Oxford, he came back to London, where he spent the next three weeks. An immense amount of work was thrust into this brief interval. He gave Charles Wesley "so promising an account of Oxford," that Charles felt "strongly inclined" to settle there, as he had been urged to do at the recently held conference of Oxford Methodists.[164] He transacted business with the Trustees of Georgia, who presented him to the living of Savannah, and granted him five hundred acres of land for his projected Orphan House. He was frequent in his attendance at the Moravian meetings in Fetter Lane, "where," says he, "we sometimes spent whole nights in prayer, and where I have often seen the people overwhelmed with the Divine Presence, and crying out, 'Will God indeed dwell with men upon earth?'" He spent an "afternoon in visiting some Dissenting brethren, who were Christians indeed,"—an act of courtesy which his friend Wesley carefully avoided. He went even to Stoke Newington, to have an interview with the arch-Dissenter of the day—the celebrated Dr. Watts—who, though in great debility and suffering, was actively employed in publishing a pamphlet on one of the most debateable of topics, "Civil Power in Things Sacred."[165] During his three weeks' stay in London, Whitefield preached more than twenty times, and expounded almost fifty. He began to make collections for his Orphan House in Georgia. He had a long conference with an opposing clergyman, who objected to private Societies and extempore prayer, grounding his objection on the authority of the Canons and the Act of Uniformity. Whitefield replied that the Canons and the Act of Uniformity referred to public worship only, whereas that of the Societies was not public worship, but only "an imitation of the primitive Christians, who continued daily with one accord in the temple, and yet exhorted one another from house to house." He had another conference, which lasted till after midnight, with two Church of England clergymen, who were "strong opposers of the doctrine of the new birth." Whitefield says, "God enabled me, with great simplicity, to declare what He had done for my soul, which made them look upon me as a madman." Besides his work in London, Whitefield went to Bexley, where he preached, and spent two delightful evenings with the Delamottes. He also went to Gravesend, where he preached in the churches twice, and in private houses expounded thrice; his journey there and back being performed by boat on the river Thames—a six hours' sail in the depth of winter, begun from London at three o'clock in the morning, and from Gravesend at eleven o'clock at night. The churches in London that he was allowed to occupy were: St. Helen's in Bishopsgate Street, where his friend Broughton was minister; Christ Church, in Spitalfields; St. Catherine's; Islington; Wapping; St. George's-in-the-East; and St. Margaret's, Westminster.

"I sleep but little, very little," said he, in a letter dated January 27, 1739. "Had I a thousand hands, I could employ them all. I scare know what it is to have an idle moment. I thank you for blessing God on my behalf. I want a thousand tongues to praise Him. He still works by me more and more. Subscriptions for erecting an orphan house come in apace. On Monday seven-night, God willing, I set out for Bristol, with Mr. Seward. Mr. Howel Harris and I are correspondents, blessed be God! May I follow him as he does Jesus Christ! How he outstrips me!"

As Messrs. Seward and Harris will occupy a somewhat prominent position in the ensuing pages, a brief account of them may be acceptable.

William Seward, together with his brothers, Thomas, Benjamin, and Henry, were natives of Badsey, a hamlet about two and a half miles from Evesham, and were men of independent property. Thomas was a clergyman of the Church of England, and will be mentioned hereafter. Little is known respecting Benjamin, excepting that he spent some years at Cambridge, was unimpeachable in his morals, was converted in the spring of 1739,[166] and occasionally employed himself in composing hymns. The following was appended to an 8vo. pamphlet, published in the year of his conversion, and entitled "The Conduct and Doctrine of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield vindicated." Though lacking poetic merit, it is not without interest as exhibiting the spirit of one of Whitefield's great admirers:—

"Come, blessed Jesus, quickly come,
And mark the bright celestial way;
Within my breast erect Thy throne,
Nor let me faint through long delay.

I'm weary of these earthly toys,
The world, and all its flattering charms;
My heart pants after purer joys,
And Christ alone my bosom warms.

With coldness and contempt, I view
These vain, these transitory scenes;
Since faith hath form'd my soul anew,
And wak'd me from Egyptian dreams.

Methinks a ray of heavenly light
Already darts upon my soul;
Methinks the promis'd land's in sight;
My heart's the needle, Christ the pole.

What though, for pageantry and state,
Others to earthly treasures trust,
And, aiming falsely to be great,
Like the vile serpents lick the dust:

My hope, my treasure, and my rest—
My all-sufficiency's above;
The kingdoms of the world possess'd
Are vain without my Saviour's love."

Henry Seward, the eldest of the brothers, was married to a Baptist wife, and was, as will be seen, a violent opposer of the Methodists.

William was drawn to seek after God and serve Him as early as the year 1728. He laboured hard and successfully in reviving the charity schools in London, particularly those in Langbourn Ward, Castle Baynard Ward, Billingsgate Ward, Vintry Ward, in the parish of St. George the Martyr, and in Hackney. For the school at the last-mentioned place, he raised, by subscriptions and public collections, an income of £150 per annum, and that notwithstanding the "opposition of the minister, the churchwardens, and the vestrymen of the parish."[167]

In the year 1738, he became acquainted with Charles Wesley and the Methodists, and, in the month of November, found peace with God through faith in Christ. Oddly enough, he was allowed to be present at the Conference of Oxford Methodists, already mentioned, on January 5, 1739.[168] A few weeks afterwards, he became Whitefield's travelling companion; and went with him to America in August, 1739.

William Seward returned to England, not to stay in it, but, 1. To induce Mr. Hutchins, the Oxford Methodist, to take the management of Whitefield's Orphan House in Georgia. 2. To convince the Trustees of Georgia that three things were necessary to establish the Colony, viz.: "an allowance of negroes, a free title to the lands, and an independent magistracy." 3. To collect subscriptions for a negro school in Pennsylvania. And, 4. To bring the money, lodged in the hands of the trustees, for building the church at Savannah.

These were the public reasons why Mr. Seward returned to England; but there were also private reasons. Mr. Seward had bought five thousand acres of land on the forks of Delaware, for which he had paid £2,200 sterling; and he hoped to beg this amount of money in England, and then to give the land for the erection of a negro school, and also a location for a number of "English friends, where," to use Seward's words, "they might worship God in their own way, without being thought Enthusiasts for so doing." He also intended to buy a ship in England for the purpose of conveying the refugees to their foreign home. The place was to be a sort of "Hernhuth" in America. Besides this, William Seward seems to have been a widower with an only daughter, who was being educated by a private governess. He was now desirous to remove his daughter to Georgia, and to complete her education in Whitefield's Orphan House. With reference to this, he wished to buy of the Trustees of Georgia five hundred acres of land adjoining the Orphan House estate, provided he could have a perfect title to leave it to the Orphan House, if he thought desirable.

From this concise statement it will be seen that Mr. Seward had abundance of business to transact in England; but besides all this, there was a family quarrel exceedingly unpleasant. The elder brother, Henry Seward, was wroth at his brothers becoming Methodists. Three months before William's return to England, Benjamin Seward was seriously ill. "His fever was called madness." His letters were intercepted, and his servants set over him as spies. Charles Wesley went to see him, but was not admitted to his presence, and wrote:—"Henry Seward fell upon me without preface or ceremony. I was the downfall of his brother, had picked his pocket, ruined his family, come now to get more money, was a scoundrel, rascal, and so forth, and deserved to have my gown stripped over my ears. He concluded with threatening how he would beat me, if he could but catch me on Bengeworth Common." On the day after this angry interview, Charles Wesley attempted to preach. Henry Seward came and said, "Four constables are ordered to apprehend you if you come near my brother's wall," the place appointed for preaching; "so come at your peril." Charles writes:—

"I walked towards the place. Mr. Henry met me with threats and revilings. I began singing—

'Shall I, for fear of feeble man,
Thy Spirit's course in me restrain?'

He ran about raving like a madman, and quickly got some men for his purpose, who laid hold on me. Henry cried, 'Take him away, and duck him.' I broke out into singing with T. Maxfield, and let them carry me whither they would. At the bridge in the lane, they left me. There I stood out of the liberty of the corporation, and gave out—

'Angel of God, whate'er betide,
Thy summons I obey!'"

Charles then proceeded to preach to a congregation of some hundreds, from the words, "If God be for us, who can be against us?"

Eight days after this, Charles Wesley and Henry Seward had another altercation. The country squire again lost his manners, and after calling the poor Methodist preacher, "rogue, rascal, villain, and pickpocket," actually wrung his nose. Charles departed, rejoicing that he was counted worthy to suffer shame in the cause of Christ.[169]

Three months after this disreputable scene, William Seward arrived in England, and most likely visited his brothers at Badsey. Be that as it may, when William and Charles Wesley met at Bristol, in the month of September following, William was evidently prejudiced against his friend. Charles writes:—

"1740, September 23. Mr. W. Seward came, and was very cordial. We prayed, rejoiced, and gave thanks. If I did not love him the better for his opinion, I am sure it made me more industrious to confirm my old love towards him. I carried him to our colliers. He spoke a few words to them, which did not convince me of his call to preach. In our return, he told me Mrs. Grevil and others had urged him to claim the Room in the Horse-fair,[170] but he abhorred their baseness. Next day, he told me he was in a mist, the Baptists last night having laboured hard to make him oppose me publicly. Before we parted, all was set right again; but a few hours after, he came from the Baptists, and utterly renounced both me and my brother, in bitter words of hatred, which they had put into his mouth."[171]

William Seward's work was nearly ended. Immediately after this painful interview in Bristol, he proceeded to Wales, where he joined Howell Harris, and met with most brutal treatment. At Caerleon, where he preached, he was "pelted with dung and dirt, eggs and plumbstones." Some hard substance hit him on the eye, the result of the blow being a total loss of sight. But even this was not the worst. At Hay, a man struck him so severely on the head, that, a few days afterwards, on October 22, 1740,[172] his life was ended at the early age of thirty-eight. On hearing of his death, Wesley wrote:—

"1740, October 27. The surprising news of poor Mr. Seward's death was confirmed. Surely God will maintain His own cause. Righteous art Thou, O Lord!"

On the same occasion, Charles Wesley wrote:—

"1740, October 28. I was exceedingly shocked with the news of Mr. Seward's death; but he is taken from the evil; rescued out of the hands of wicked men."

This is a long account of Seward and his brothers; but their names have always been so prominent in the early career of Whitefield and the Wesleys, that the writer hopes to be forgiven for collecting the hitherto scattered scraps of information concerning them, and presenting that information in a connected form.

After William Seward's death, his brothers are never mentioned in Methodistic annals.

The account of Howell Harris shall be shorter. It is taken from a document written by himself. This memorable Welshman was born at Trevecka, on January 23, 1714, and was, therefore, a few months older than his friend Whitefield. In 1732, when his father died, Harris took charge of a country school. In 1735, he found peace with God, through faith in Jesus Christ. Converted himself, he had an intense desire to convert others. He writes:—

"Swearing, lying, reviling, drunkenness, fighting, and gaming overspread the country. Ministers were not in earnest, and their instructions, delivered in an unfeeling and indifferent manner, seemed to have no effect upon their hearers. I could not help making it my business to speak to all I came near of their danger. Death and judgment, and the necessity of praying and receiving the sacrament, were the principal subjects of my conversation. I set up family worship in my mother's house, and on Sunday mornings some of the neighbours would come to hear me read the lessons and psalms, etc."

He proceeds to relate how he also commenced meetings on Sunday evenings, and exhorted the poor people who flocked to hear him. "Thus," he says, "I spent that summer, 1735."

In November following, he relinquished his school, and entered himself at St. Mary's Hall, Oxford; but the "irregularities and immoralities which surrounded" him were such, that he kept only a single term, and returned to Wales. He again set up a school at Trevecka. He visited from house to house, until he had visited the greatest part of his native parish. His congregation increased, and the houses in which they met could not contain them. Many of his hearers became penitent, and cried to God for the pardon of their sins. Family worship in numerous instances was begun. The churches were soon crowded, and likewise the Lord's table. Then persecution arose. The magistrates threatened him with fines for holding meetings in private houses. The clergy did their utmost to discourage him, and, at the end of the year 1737, expelled him from his school.

Up to the present, in the day-time he had taught his scholars, and at night had held meetings. Now he had both days and nights at his disposal, and preached to crowded congregations thirty or forty times every week. The magistrates threatened him more furiously than ever; and the clergy preached against him, and branded him as a deceiver; but, in several counties, a general reformation was witnessed. Public diversions became unfashionable, and religion became the common talk. Places of worship were everywhere thronged, and, in many places, Societies were set up. The Rev. Griffith Jones began his charity schools. The Rev. Daniel Rowlands and some other young clergymen began to preach in the same extemporary manner as Harris did. The work grew, and so also did the persecution. In Montgomeryshire, "a knight, a clergyman, two justices, a constable, and a mob," came while Harris was preaching, and charged him with a breach of the Conventicle Act. The preacher told the magistrates that he was a Conformist, and therefore not subject to the penalties of the Act in question. At Machynlleth he was surrounded by a mob, "threatening, swearing, and flinging stones," the leaders of the gang being a clergyman and a lawyer. He writes:—

"By the trials through which I often passed, I was at length so accustomed to them that I was daily in expectation of them. I became more acquainted with the world and myself, and could attest the truth of that expression which at first seems harsh, 'Man is a mixture of beast and devil.'"

It is a remarkable fact, that, up to this date, Howell Harris had never seen either Whitefield or the Wesleys. Whitefield, on his return from Georgia, heard that the young evangelist, without episcopal ordination or any sort of ecclesiastical authority whatever, was preaching in the towns and villages of Wales thirty or forty times every week; and, notwithstanding the opposition and the violence of clergymen, magistrates, and mobs, had already been the means of accomplishing a marvellous reformation. The results were quite sufficient to constrain Whitefield to recognize the Welsh itinerant as a fellow-labourer in the same great work. Hence, only a few days after his arrival in England, Whitefield wrote to Howell Harris as follows:—

"London, December 20, 1738.

"My dear Brother,—Though I am unknown to you in person, I have long been united to you in spirit, and have been rejoiced to hear how the good pleasure of the Lord prospered in your hand. Go on, my dear brother, go on. Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. There have been, and will be, many adversaries; but be not afraid. He who sent you will assist, comfort, and protect you, and make you more than conqueror through His great love. I am a living monument of this, for the Divine strength has often been magnified in my weakness. I have tasted that the Lord is gracious; I have felt His power; and, from experience, can say that, in doing or suffering the will of Jesus Christ, there is great reward.

"Blessed be His holy name! There seems to be a great pouring out of the Spirit in London, and we walk in the comfort of the Holy Ghost, and are edified.

"You see, my dear Brother, the freedom I have taken in writing to you. If you would favour me with a line or two, by way of answer, you would greatly rejoice both me and many others. Why should we not tell one another what God has done for our souls?

"My dear Brother, I love you in the bowels of Jesus Christ, and wish you may be the spiritual father of thousands, and shine, as the sun in the firmament, in the kingdom of your heavenly Father.

"Your affectionate, though unworthy brother in Christ,
"George Whitefield."[173]

Such was Whitefield's warm-hearted salutation to the young lay-preacher in the principality of Wales. Harris's reply was equally cordial. The following is an extract from it:—

"Glamorgan, January 8, 1739.

"Dear Brother,—I was most agreeably surprised last night by a letter from you. Though this is the first time of our correspondence, I am no stranger to you. When I first heard of your labours and success, my soul was united to you, and engaged to send addresses to heaven on your behalf. When I read your Diary, I had uncommon influence of the Divine Presence shining on my soul almost continually, but I little thought our good Lord and Master intended I should ever see your handwriting.

Oh how ravishing it is to hear of such demonstrations of the Divine love and favour to London! And, to make your joy greater still, I have some good news to send you from Wales. There is a great revival in Cardiganshire, through Mr. D. Rowlands, a Church minister, who has been much owned and blessed in Carmarthenshire also. We have also a sweet prospect in Breckonshire and part of Monmouthshire. And the revival prospers in this county where I am now. There is also here a very useful young dissenting minister, who is a man of great charity. There is another of the same character in Montgomeryshire. There are two or three young curates in Glamorganshire, who are well-wishers to the cause of God; and we have an exceedingly valuable clergyman in Breckonshire. But enemies are many and powerful. Oh that I had more love in my soul, more humble zeal, and spiritual boldness!"[174]

After this long but not useless digression, it is time to return to Whitefield.

He was detained in England much longer than he expected, but he was not unmindful of his flock in Georgia. In a letter "to the inhabitants of Savannah," dated January 19, 1739, he says:—

"You are upon my heart, so that I am ready to live and die with you. As soon as my affairs are finished in England, I shall return to you. The trustees have now appointed me minister of Savannah, and granted all I desired of them, so that I have nothing to do but to watch over your souls, that I may present you blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Be steadfast, therefore, my brethren, be unmoveable. Carefully attend to the words spoken by your present pastor. Let love be without dissimulation. Let not slander so much as be named amongst you, as becometh saints. Be not slothful in business, yet take heed that you are fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. Pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; and assure yourselves you are continually remembered by your most affectionate pastor,

"George Whitefield."[174]

Before leaving for the West of England, Whitefield's last Sunday in London was a memorable one. He shall relate his own story.

"1739. Sunday, February 4. Preached in the morning at St. George's in the East; collected £18 for the Orphan House; and had, I believe, six hundred communicants, which highly offended the officiating curate. Preached again at Christ Church, Spitalfields; and gave thanks and sang psalms at a private house. Went thence to St. Margaret's Westminster; but, something breaking belonging to the coach, could not get thither till the middle of the prayers. Went through the people to the minister's pew, but, finding it locked, I returned to the vestry till the sexton could be found. Being there informed that another minister intended to preach, I desired several times that I might go home. My friends would by no means consent, telling me I was appointed by the trustees to preach; and that, if I did not, the people would go out of the church. At my request, some went to the trustees, churchwardens, and minister; and, whilst I was waiting for an answer, and the last psalm was being sung, a man came, with a wand in his hand, whom I took for the proper church officer, and told me I was to preach. I, not doubting but the minister was satisfied, followed him to the pulpit, and God enabled me to preach with greater power than I had done all the day before.

"After this, I prayed with and gave an exhortation to a company that waited for me. Then I went to Fetter Lane, where I spent the whole night in watching unto prayer, and discussing several important points with many truly Christian friends. About four in the morning, we went all together, and broke bread at a poor sick sister's room; and so we parted, I hope, in a spirit not unlike that of the primitive Christians."

This is soon related, but the service at St. Margaret's must have further notice. It engendered a rancorous controversy, which cannot, in fairness, be omitted.

In a long leading article in the Weekly Miscellany of February 10, 1739, the following account was published:—

"On Sunday last, our new Methodists discovered a more violent temper than is consistent with their great pretensions to meekness and sanctity. The story is as follows, and it was related to me by the gentleman that read the prayers:—

"At St. Margaret's, Westminster, there is a Society Evening Lecture; and when the Reader came, he found in the churchyard, at the west door, a number of people singing psalms. When he got into the church, he was affronted by some unknown persons as he passed through a great crowd to the vestry. As soon as the clergyman appointed to preach came, he was solicited (if an overbearing importunity may be so called) to resign the pulpit to Mr. Whitefield, who (as is supposed by his not appearing at the prayers) was waiting at some neighbouring house to know the issue of their application. But the preacher continuing as determined to do his duty as Mr. Whitefield was to do it for him, they at last effected that by force which they could not gain by treaty. So the preacher was safely confined in his pew, which was locked (the sexton being appointed by the Society, and in Mr. Whitefield's interest), and guarded by several lusty fellows; while another party conveyed the unlicensed intruder triumphantly up into the pulpit, and kept sentry on the stairs for fear he should be taken down in as forcible a manner as he got up."

Mr. Venn, the writer of this account, then adds:—

"There are many instances of these unauthorised teachers using fraudulent and unfair means of getting into pulpits against the inclination of the proper minister or appointed preacher. Sometimes they ask the pulpit for a friend, and then send Mr. Whitefield or some other Methodist. Another method has been by slipping up into the pulpit as soon as the prayers are over, without asking any leave at all. And all these disorders, irregularities, and artifices are practised by persons who have no warrant, but their pretended call from heaven, to preach in any church in the diocese."

The reader has thus before him the two conflicting statements. A fortnight afterwards, in the same newspaper, Mr. Bennett, one of the stewards of the Society, whose evening lecture at St. Margaret's had caused so much uproar, declared that the simple facts were these:—

"On Sunday, February 4, Mr. Whitefield, at the desire of the Friendly Society, came from Spitalfields Church to St. Margaret's, of Westminster. He would have gone into the minister's seat, but could not, there being no one to unlock the door. He then went into the vestry, and stayed there during prayers. The usual preacher before the Society[175] was out of town, otherwise they would have acquainted him with their desire of Mr. Whitefield preaching, which they doubt not but he would have complied with. That he had desired another to preach, they knew not, when they asked Mr. Whitefield to do it; but when he was come, in compliance with their frequently repeated desire, they did insist upon his preaching."

Mr. Bennett adds, that all the rest of Mr. Venn's letter, relating to the affront offered to the Reader of Prayers, the Rev. Mr. Durant; the "overbearing importunity" brought to bear upon the Rev. J. Majendie, the gentleman who had promised to preach for the absent lecturer; the assumed waiting of Whitefield in a neighbouring house; the employment of the sexton in Whitefield's interest; the taking of the pulpit by "force;" and the sentry of lusty fellows on the pulpit stairs, were not facts, but fiction, created by the writer's "own ingenuity, purely to heighten and embellish his story."

Much more was printed respecting the St. Margaret's fracas; but the case, in brief, was this: The Rev. Mr. Morgan, the Lecturer, having to be out of town, asked the Rev. J. Majendie to supply his place on February 4, at St. Margaret's, and Mr. Majendie readily consented to do so. Meanwhile, the officers of the Friendly Society, ascertaining that their "usual lecturer" would be from home, and very improperly taking it for granted that he had provided no one to occupy the pulpit for him, rashly went to Whitefield, and obtained from him a promise to preach in Mr. Morgan's stead. When Whitefield found that Mr. Majendie was present, as Mr. Morgan's properly engaged substitute, he wished to retire, and would have done so, if, to use Mr. Bennett's own expression, the officers of the Society had not "insisted upon his preaching."

This is all that can be said about this disreputable brawling in St. Margaret's. Mr. Morgan and Mr. Majendie were blameless. Mr. Bennett and his friends were highly culpable in setting aside the arrangement made by their absent Lecturer; and Whitefield, when he had ascertained that Mr. Majendie had come to preach, would have acted a more courteous and less ignoble part, if, instead of taking Mr. Morgan's pulpit, he had at once retired to the Moravian Meeting House in Fetter Lane.

Some will think that more space has been devoted to this unhappy affair than its importance merits; but those who have had the perseverance to make themselves acquainted with all the Methodist facts of the year 1739, will think otherwise, as there can be no doubt that this unfortunate contretemps in Westminster was the real or pretended occasion of much of the clerical opposition which Whitefield soon encountered in Bristol, Bath, and other places; and it certainly was the beginning of the furious onslaughts upon Methodism and the Methodists, which, for so many months, disgraced the Weekly Miscellany and Dr. Hooker, its trenchant editor. Several of these attacks will be noticed hereafter; but one must be introduced now, inasmuch as its date is nearly the same as that of the imbroglio at St. Margaret's. In his leading article of February 10, 1739, Mr. Hooker[176] wrote:—

"At first, we only looked upon the Methodists as well-meaning, zealous people, whom the irreligious boldness of these wicked times had driven somewhat too far into the contrary extreme of infidelity. They were a sort of Protestant supererogators, that would be righteous over-much; and there were hopes that, when this devotional effervescence had boiled over, they would return to that proper medium where true piety and Christian prudence fix the centre. But, instead of that, they have proceeded so far as to eject the Liturgy and the usual Expositors out of their meetings, and have declared for extemporary effusions both in their prayers and expoundings. The laity are allowed to be teachers, and even women, as I am informed, begin to usurp public offices. They pretend to a sort of sinless perfection, and boast of inward joys above other Christians. They distinguish themselves from others by having received the faith, with which, and other cant phrases, they are united together like a sect of Religious Freemasons. In general, they seem to be practising over the lesson set them by the old Puritans before the beginning of the grand rebellion."

Three days after he preached at St. Margaret's, Whitefield, accompanied by William Seward, set out for Bristol.

"I never was more opposed," says he, "and never met with so great success. I hope I shall learn more and more every day, that no place is amiss for preaching the Gospel. God forbid that the word of God should be bound because some deny the use of their churches! The more I am bid to hold my peace, the more earnestly will I lift up my voice like a trumpet, and tell the people what must be done in them before they can be finally saved by Jesus Christ."[177]

Even while travelling, Whitefield could not refrain from preaching. At Windsor, he "expounded in the school-house to a great number of people with freedom and power." At Basingstoke, he preached for an hour in a large room thronged with people, while a mob outside shouted and threw stones at the windows. The next day, three large rooms were filled. Some began to interrupt: but "God," says he, "enabled me to speak with such power that they were quite struck dumb and confounded. Near twenty came to converse with me, and to hear the word of God. How thankful ought I to be to my dear Master for sending me hither! A vestry, I find, was called to stop my proceedings, and I hear I am to be presented to the Diocesan."

At Basingstoke, also, he wrote a letter to a friend, which contains a paragraph too valuable to be omitted.

"Basingstoke, February 8, 1739.

"Just now God has brought us to Basingstoke, where I hope an effectual door will be opened before we leave. Oh, my dear friend, more and more do I see the benefit of confessing our blessed Lord before men. He has begun, He will carry on, He will finish the good work in our souls. We have nothing to do, but to lay hold on Him by faith, and to depend on Him for wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. Not but we must be workers together with Him; for a true faith in Jesus Christ will not suffer us to be idle. No: it is an active, lively, restless principle; it fills the heart, so that it cannot be easy till it is doing something for Jesus Christ."

At Dummer, the little parish where he once was curate, Whitefield met his old Oxford friends, Messrs. Kinchin and Hutchins, with whom he took sweet counsel, sung psalms, and prayed.

At Salisbury, he writes, "I paid a visit to an old disciple, my brother Wesley's mother," at that time visiting her son-in-law, Westley Hall.[178] Here also he sought an interview with the well-known sceptic, Thomas Chubb, resident in an adjoining village, respecting his "True Gospel of Jesus Christ asserted;" but the "free-thinker," (who, by the way, regularly attended the services of his parish church,) happened not to be at home.

On February 14th, Whitefield arrived at Bath, and immediately waited upon Dr. C., desiring the use of the Abbey Church, to preach a sermon for the Orphan House, the Trustees of Georgia having obtained the consent of the bishop more than twelve months before. "But," he writes, "Dr. C. was pleased to give me an absolute refusal to preach either on that or on any other occasion, without a positive order from the king or bishop. I asked him his reasons. He said he was not obliged to give me any. Upon which, I took my leave and retired with my friends, and prayed for him most fervently." On the evening of the same day, Whitefield came to Bristol, where his old friends welcomed him with the utmost joy; but his chief pleasure, on his arrival, was, not the greetings of his friends, but the calumny of his enemies. He writes: "Who can express the joy with which I was received? To add to my comfort, many letters came to my hands from London friends. But the chiefest pleasure was, some one had thought me considerable enough to write a letter in the Weekly Miscellany against me, and containing several untruths about my preaching at St. Margaret's, Westminster. Thou shalt answer for me, my Lord and my God! Yet a little while, and we shall all appear at the judgment-seat of Christ!"

Next morning, Whitefield first of all waited upon the Rev. Mr. Gibbs, Vicar of St. Mary Redcliffe, and asked the loan of his church, to preach a sermon on behalf of the contemplated Orphan House in Georgia. Mr. Gibbs refused, saying, "he could not lend his church without a special order from the chancellor." Nothing daunted, Whitefield went at once to the chancellor, who declined to issue an order for Mr. Gibbs, but stated that if any clergyman thought proper to lend his church to Whitefield, he (the chancellor) would not prohibit it; nevertheless, he advised Whitefield to go to some other town until the bishop had been consulted. Whitefield was far too ardent and impetuous to wait for the bishop's leave, and, hence, from the chancellor, he proceeded direct to the residence of the dean. Having shewn him his "Georgia Accounts," he asked, "Can there be any just objection against my preaching in churches for the Orphan House?" "I cannot tell," replied the dean, "but I will give you an answer some other time; now I am expecting company." "Will you be pleased to fix a time, sir?" "I will send to you," said the dean; and so ended Whitefield's interview, number three.

It cannot be denied, that, in all this, there was a display of more self-confidence than is commendable. Whitefield was a young man, not yet twenty-five; he had neither high rank, nor special scholarship to recommend him to the Church dignitaries of the day; his ecclesiastical standing was extremely insignificant—only incumbent of the distant and small settlement of Savannah. It is true, he had, a year and a half ago, moved both Bristol and the metropolis by his earnest, startling, godly eloquence; but, during the interval, his injudicious friends had published his Journals, written with the utmost artlessness, but containing much never meant for the public eye; and, within the last few days, by the rash proceedings of certain of his admirers, he had been placed in an equivocal position at St. Margaret's, Westminster. Remembering all this, it was doubtless a bold—some would call it a presumptuous—act to ask the loan of the Abbey Church, at Bath, and, next to the Cathedral, of the finest church in Bristol; and further, it is hardly surprising that his well-intentioned applications were refused.

Whitefield was baffled, but not discomfited. Churches, for the present, might be closed against him, but there was Bristol prison; there were the rooms of the Religious Societies; and there was Kingswood Hill.

In the afternoon of the very day, when his diplomacy with three of the principal ecclesiastics in Bristol was such a mortifying failure, he tried his skill with another functionary of a more humble order. At this period, the keeper of Bristol Prison was a Mr. Dagge, whom Dr. Johnson has immortalized in his Life of the poet Savage.[179] Mr. Dagge had been amongst the firstfruits of Whitefield's ministry in Bristol prison, in 1737,[180] and Whitefield's application to him was more successful than those he had made to the vicar, the chancellor, and the dean. He writes:—

"About three in the afternoon, God having given me great favour in the gaoler's eyes, I preached a sermon on the Penitent Thief, to the poor prisoners in Newgate, and collected fifteen shillings for them."

This was the beginning. Next morning, he made an arrangement, that, while he remained in Bristol, he would read prayers and preach to the prisoners every day, an arrangement which was faithfully fulfilled, until the 12th of March, when the mayor and the sheriffs thought it their duty to interfere, and absolutely commanded Mr. Dagge not to allow Whitefield to preach in the prison-house again, alleging, as their reason, that he insisted upon the necessity of our being born again—a thing which those custodians, if not regenerators, of outcast men, were unable to understand.

Whitefield's preaching to the prisoners, however, was but a small part of his public labours in Bristol and in the neighbourhood. His present sojourn here lasted between six and seven weeks, during which he preached above sixty times, and expounded fifty.

Closing the churches against him was not the way to silence him. His "heart was hot within him;" while he mused "the fire burned;" and to speak with his tongue became almost a necessity of life. For the present, he had the use of the city prison; but fancy a man like Whitefield being satisfied with a cure of souls all under a single roof! The opportunity of preaching to Mr. Dagge's domestics was important, and doubtless useful; but it was not enough; and, hence, as Whitefield had no other place in which to preach, away he went, and, for the first time in England, in the bleak month of February, preached out of doors, to a congregation of colliers, on Kingswood Hill. He writes:—

"1739. February 17, Saturday. About one in the afternoon, I went with my brother (William) Seward, and another friend to Kingswood, and was most delightfully entertained by an old disciple of the Lord. My bowels have long yearned toward the poor colliers, who are very numerous, and as sheep having no shepherd. After dinner, therefore, I went upon a mount, and spake to as many people as came unto me. They were upwards of two hundred. Blessed be God that I have now broken the ice! I believe I was never more acceptable to my Master than when I was standing to teach those hearers in the open fields. Some may censure me; but if I thus pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ."[181]

Thus began, apparently without intention, the marvellous outdoor services which distinguished the career of Whitefield and the Wesleys. This was only three days after Whitefield came to Bristol. He would have preferred the churches; but, even in the midst of winter, was thankful for the open fields. It is a remarkable fact, however, that, though when he arrived in Bristol, every church was closed against him, on the very day immediately succeeding that on which he set his pulpit on Kingswood Hill, the pulpits of three of the Bristol churches were freely offered him. Hear what he says:—

"1739. February 18, Sunday. Arose this morning about six, being called up by near fifty young persons, whom I appointed to meet at my sister's house, and with whom I spent above an hour in prayer, psalm-singing, and a warm exhortation. Soon after this, I read prayers and preached at Newgate, to a large and very attentive congregation. At ten, I preached at St. Werburg's, to a large audience. I thought yesterday I should not have the use of any pulpit; but God, who has the hearts of all men in His hands, disposed the Rev. Mr. Penrose to lend me his; and the Rev. Mr. Gibbs sent to me and offered me the use both of St. Thomas's and St. Mary Redcliffe. I accepted the latter of these, and preached to such a congregation as my eyes never yet saw. Many went away for want of room, and Mr. Gibbs and his lady were exceeding civil both to me and Mr. Seward."

On the following day, Whitefield had the use of another church, the parish church of St. Philip and Jacob, where he preached, to a great multitude, in the afternoon, and collected £18 for the Orphan House in Georgia. "Thousands," says he, "went away, because there was no room for them within."

This was too much for the equanimity of the Chancellor of the Bristol Diocese. Only four days before, he had virtually prohibited Whitefield preaching in any of the Bristol churches, without the bishop's leave being first obtained; and yet already had the young preacher had the hardihood to occupy three of the city churches, and was not at all unlikely to preach in others. Official patience with the ordained upstart was exhausted, and the apparitor was sent to summons Whitefield to the court of the Rev. Mr. R——l, the ecclesiastical lawyer of the Bishop of Bristol, versed in civil and canon law, and solemnly appointed to direct the bishop in the criminal and civil causes of the Church.

The summons was served on Tuesday, February 20, and was immediately obeyed. On Whitefield's appearance, the chancellor informed him that he intended "to stop his proceedings;" and that the registrar of the court was present to take down his answers.

Chancellor. "By what authority do you preach in the diocese of Bristol without a license?"

Whitefield. "I thought that custom was grown obsolete. Pray, sir, why did you not ask the Irish clergyman this question, who preached for you last Thursday?"

C. "That is nothing to you." Then, reading part of the Ordination Office, and the canons forbidding ministers to preach in private houses, he asked, "What do you say to these?"

W. "I apprehend these canons do not belong to professed ministers of the Church of England."

C. "But they do."

W. "There is a canon forbidding all clergymen to frequent taverns, and play at cards. Why is not that put in execution?"

C. "Why does not somebody lodge complaints? In such a case it would."

Referring to his printed sermons for his principles, Whitefield asked, "Why am I singled out?"

C. "You preach false doctrine."

W. "I cannot but speak the things that I know, and am resolved to proceed as usual."

C. "Mr. Registrar, observe his answer." Then turning to Whitefield, "I am resolved, sir, if you preach or expound anywhere in this diocese, till you have a license, I will first suspend, and then excommunicate you."

Upon this, Whitefield says, "I took my leave. He waited upon me very civilly to the door, and told me, 'What I do is in the name of the clergy and laity of the city of Bristol;' and so we parted."

With this ended Whitefield's ministry in Bristol churches. Meanwhile, however, he had written both to the Bishop of Bristol, and the Bishop of Bath and Wells. From the former, the celebrated Dr. Butler, author of the well-known "Analogy of Religion," etc., he received an answer on February 24, with which he again waited on the chancellor; but without success. Bishop Butler's letter is not preserved; but Whitefield's reply was as follows:—

"Bristol, February 24, 1739.

"My Lord,—I humbly thank your lordship for the favour of your lordship's letter. It gave abundant satisfaction to me, and many others, who have not failed to pray in a particular manner for your lordship's temporal and eternal welfare. To-day, I shewed your lordship's letter to the chancellor, who (notwithstanding he promised not to prohibit my preaching for the Orphan House if your lordship was only neutral in the affair) has influenced most of the clergy to deny me their pulpits, either on that or any other occasion. Last week, he was pleased to charge me with false doctrine. To-day, he has forgotten that he said so. He also threatened to excommunicate me for preaching in your lordship's diocese. I offered to take a license, but was denied.

"If your lordship should ask, What evil have I done? I answer, None, save that I visit the Religious Societies, preach to the prisoners in Newgate, and to the poor colliers in Kingswood, who, I am told, are little better than heathens. I am charged with being a Dissenter; though many are brought to the Church by my preaching, not one taken from it. The chancellor is pleased to tell me my conduct is contrary to the canons; but I told him that the canons, which he produced, were not intended against such meetings as mine are, where His Majesty is constantly prayed for, and every one is free to see what is done.

"I am sorry to give your lordship this trouble; but I thought it proper to mention these particulars, that I might know wherein my conduct is exceptionable.

"I heartily thank your lordship for your intended benefaction. I think the design is truly good, and will meet with success, because so much opposed.

"God knows my heart. I desire only to promote His glory. If I am spoken evil of, for His sake, I rejoice in it. My Master was long since spoken evil of before me. But I intrude on your lordship's patience.

"I am, with all possible thanks, my lord, your lordship's dutiful son and servant,

"George Whitefield."

So the matter ended. Curiosity would like to know what a man so eminent as Bishop Butler thought of the young Methodist, and what he said to him; but, unfortunately, the bishop's sentiments are not producible.

What was Whitefield to do next? He might at once have gone back to Georgia; but he wanted money to erect his Orphan House, and was not content to return without it. Besides, he seemed to consider the prohibition to preach in churches a kind of call to preach elsewhere. Preach he must. God had called him to the work. By the Bishop of Gloucester, he had been ordained to it. If churches were inaccessible, his only alternative was to make use of private houses, public rooms, and open fields.

The Religious Societies gladly accepted his services. He speaks of the Room of the Baldwin Street Society, together with the stairs and the court below, being crowded with people, profoundly attentive and powerfully affected. Here his expositions, more than once, were of two hours' duration; and, at one of the meetings, upwards of £5 was collected for his Orphan House. At his farewell service, the crowd about the place was such, that he had to climb a ladder, and go over the roof of an adjoining house, in order to get into the Room. The meeting-place of the Nicholas Street Society was quite as thronged as that of Baldwin Street; and here, by his recommendation, a charity school was opened, for which, he says, "I collected at the door myself, and few passed by without throwing in their mites." The Room of the Society without Lawford's Gate seems to have been connected with the parish poorhouse, and was sometimes so crowded, that Whitefield had to preach from the steps leading to the door, and sometimes to stand at the window, and there preach to those outside and those within. On one occasion, at the poorhouse, he made a collection for his contemplated orphanage; "and the poor people," says he, "so loaded my hat, that I wanted some one to hold up my hands. The cheerfulness with which they gave was inexpressible; and the many prayers they joined with their alms will, I hope, lay a good foundation for the house intended to be built."

When Newgate was closed against him, he wrote:—

"1739, March 14. Being forbid preaching in the prison, and, withal, being resolved not to give place to my adversaries, no, not for an hour, I preached at Baptist Mills, a place very near to the city, to three or four thousand people. Blessed be God! all things happen for the furtherance of the Gospel. I now preach to ten times more people than I should if I had been confined to the churches. Surely the devil is blind, and so are his emissaries, or otherwise they would not thus confound themselves. Every day I am invited to fresh places. I will go to as many as I can; the rest I must leave unvisited till it shall please God to bring me back from Georgia."

In this way, Whitefield became an itinerant outdoor preacher. At four different times, he went to Bath. Here he met the Rev. Griffith Jones, a devoted clergyman, who, two years before, had instituted his locomotive schools for educating the children of the poor in Wales, and who gave to Whitefield "an account of the many obstructions" he had encountered in his ministry, and convinced his visitor that he "was but a young soldier just entering the field." Here also he was introduced to the Rev. George Thompson, Vicar of St. Gennys, Cornwall, from the first a hearty friend of the Oxford Methodists.[182] He read prayers at the hospital; and, in the midst of a storm of snow, preached on the "Town Common." On another occasion, he preached out of doors to a congregation of four or five thousand, "of high and low, rich and poor." He writes: "As I went along, I observed many scoffers; and, when I got upon the table to preach, many laughed; but, before I had finished my prayer, all were hushed and silent; and, ere I had concluded my discourse, God, by His word, seemed to impress a great awe upon their minds; for all were deeply attentive, and appeared much affected with what had been spoken."

Whitefield went to Brislington, "a village," says he, "about two miles from Bristol, where was such a vast congregation, that, after I had read prayers in the church, I thought proper to preach in the churchyard,[183] that none might be sent empty away. The people were exceedingly attentive, and God gave me great utterance; and, what was best of all, by the leave of the minister who invited me thither, we had a sacrament, and I hope it was a communion of saints indeed."

He writes again:—

"1739, Friday, March 16. Being much entreated by the people, and horses being sent for me, I went and preached at Elberton, a village about nine miles from Bristol. The clergyman denied me the pulpit; so I preached on a little ascent on which the May-pole was fixed. The weather being cold, and the adjacent villages having but little notice, I had not above two hundred hearers.[184] After dinner, I hastened to Thornbury, and preached to a great part of my morning congregation, and many hundreds besides. Mr. Willis, the incumbent, lent me the church, and used me with great civility, as did two other clergymen who were there present."

Whitefield also preached at Keynsham, where "great numbers of horsemen from Bristol" met him, "besides several thousands from the neighbouring villages." "The church being refused, he preached on a mount."

He likewise went to Publow, "a village about five miles from Bristol. The church was offered; but, not being sufficient to contain a third part of the audience," he preached in the open air.

At Coal-pit Heath, seven miles from Bristol, his congregation numbered above two thousand. The yard of the Glass-house, Bristol, was another of his preaching places. Here his "congregation consisted of many thousands." While he was preaching, "a gentleman (being drunk)" called him a dog, and said he "ought to be whipped at the cart's tail, and offered money to any that would pelt" him; but "the boys and people," instead of pelting the preacher, "began to cast stones and dirt" at the inebriated gentleman.

In Bristol, also, a large bowling-green was lent to Whitefield, where he preached twice in the last week in the month of March. On the first occasion, he says, he had a congregation of "about five thousand people, and made a collection for his poor orphans, till his hands were quite weary." On the second, he writes, "I believe seven or eight thousand people were present. The sun shone bright, and the windows and balconies of the adjoining houses were filled with hearers. I again collected for the Orphan House, and it was near an hour and a half before the people could go out. Many were very faint because of the throng, which was so exceeding great that they trod one upon another."

Strangely enough, at Winterbourne, and at Frenchay, he had, in private, friendly meetings with the Quakers; but, he says, he was not at all convinced by their arguments against paying tithes, an outward call to the ministry, and baptism, and the Lord's supper, though he admits that "their notions about walking and being led by the Spirit were right and good."

On the 6th of March, he and William Seward went off to Wales; the Rev. Richard Hutchins, afterwards Rector of Lincoln College, taking his place at Bristol. This, in its ultimate results, was an important visit; and, though only of four days' duration, was full of incident.

Here, however, an extract from a letter written by William Seward may be interjected.

"New Passage, Bristol-side, March 6, 1739.

"Reverend and dear Brother,—Our dear brother Whitefield goes on from conquering to conquer. Thousands and ten thousands flock to hear the word. He has been in but three churches, and that was at his first coming. The chancellor threatened excommunication, but soon dropt it. However, the glory of God was to be promoted another way; for, being thrust out of the synagogues, our brother has settled a lecture or exposition at Newgate every morning; the place being more convenient than Oxford Castle Chapel. He generally expounds to one, two, or three Societies every night; and has preached seven or eight times on a mount, about two miles from Bristol, where have been from fifteen hundred to fifteen thousand hearers. Last Sunday evening, we sung the hundredth psalm, and all could hear. It is much like singing at a scaffold or stake with multitudes around. At another place, the church not being big enough, he preached from the cross. He preaches once a week on the steps of a workhouse, with a hall behind, and a courtyard almost full before. He has preached in two other parts of Kingswood, among the colliers; and thousands come—horsemen, coaches, chaises, etc. Thus the gospel spreads round the country, for divers come from far—some twenty miles. You may be sure we are set up for being stark mad. We are now going to meet our brother Howell Harris at Cardiff, the minister of which place being here will not even go over in the passage-boat with us. He says our brother shall not have the church; so I hope the fields will be white at Cardiff, as well as at Bristol. There is also a Society there who long for our coming. Our brother Hutchins is at Bristol, and stays till brother Kinchin comes to supply his place. Our dear brother Whitefield would have none of you ('the Oxford Methodists') hidden, but wishes that you would all come out, and be itinerant. The harvest is great, and great encouragement there is to spend and be spent for the good of souls. I hear brother J. Wesley is at Oxford; and that forty gownsmen were lately to hear brother Kinchin expound. O praise the Lord for these His great mercies!

"I am, etc.,
"William Seward."

At the New Passage, where Whitefield and Seward had a twelve hours' detention, the Cardiff clergyman, who refused to go in the "passage-boat" because Whitefield was going, employed his enforced leisure in "shaking his elbows over a gaming table." Whitefield's Journal, published about four months afterwards, contained this incident, and also Whitefield's reflections on it. The clergyman became very wroth, and wrote a letter, dated "Cardiff, July 17, 1739," and signed "Nath. Well," which filled nearly two folio pages of the Weekly Miscellany. Mr. Well calls Whitefield's Journals "rhapsodies, and repetitions of spiritual pride, vanity, and nonsense." He says Whitefield's statement respecting his refusal to go in the passage-boat is not correct, for he actually went in it. Mr. Well's assertion is both true and false. At first he refused to go, as Whitefield says he did; but, during the long detention at the New Passage, Mr. Well changed his mind and went.[185] Mr. Well further states that Whitefield and William Seward "sang hymns the best part of the passage, till the pilot, hindered by their noise from hearing the man appointed to look out, obliged them to give over." He also adds, that Whitefield had advised Howell Harris not to offer himself for holy orders, alleging the "fanatical argument, 'that the success with which the Holy Spirit had blessed his labours was a sufficient evidence and proof of his divine commission, and he needed no other.' And yet his boasted success is this: he has alienated the affections of ignorant people from their parish ministers, and sent most of them to dissenting meeting-houses."

Whitefield's account of his trip to Wales shall be given in his own language. After relating the incident respecting Mr. Well at the New Passage, he writes as follows:—

"1739, Wednesday, March 8. Arose before twelve at night, sung psalms, and prayed; and, the wind being fair, we had a speedy passage over to the Welsh shore. Our business being in haste, and one being sent to guide us, we rode all night, and reached Cardiff about eleven in the morning.

"Whilst I was giving a word of exhortation to some poor people at the inn, Mr. Seward went to ask for the pulpit; but, being denied, we pitched on the Town Hall, which Mr. Seward got by his interest; and, at four in the afternoon, I preached from the judge's seat to about four hundred hearers. Most were very attentive; but some mocked.

"After I came from the seat, I was much refreshed with the sight of my dear brother, Howell Harris.[186] A burning and shining light has he been in those parts; a barrier against profaneness and immorality, and an indefatigable promoter of the true gospel of Jesus Christ. About three or four years God has inclined him to go about doing good. He is now above twenty-five years of age. Twice he has applied (being every way qualified) for holy orders; but he was refused, under a false pretence that he was not of age, though he was then twenty-two years and six months. About a month ago he offered himself again, but was put off. Upon this, he was, and is still, resolved to go on in his work. For these three years, he has discoursed almost twice every day for three or four hours together, not authoritatively as a minister, but as a private person exhorting his Christian brethren. He has been in seven counties, and has made it his business to go to wakes, etc., to turn people from such lying vanities. Many alehouse people, fiddlers, and harpers sadly cry out against him for spoiling their business. He has been made the subject of numbers of sermons; has been threatened with public prosecutions; and had constables sent to apprehend him. But God has blessed him with inflexible courage; and he still continues to go on from conquering to conquer. He is of a most catholic spirit, and loves all who love our Lord Jesus Christ; and therefore he is styled by bigots a Dissenter. Many call him their spiritual father, and, I believe, would lay down their lives for his sake. He discourses generally in a field; but at other times in a house, from a wall, a table, or anything else. He has established near thirty Societies, and still his sphere of action is enlarged daily. He is full of faith and the Holy Ghost.

"When I first saw him, my heart was knit closely to him. I wanted to catch some of his fire, and gave him the right hand of fellowship with my whole heart. We spent the evening in telling one another what God had done for our souls, and took an account of the several Societies, and agreed on such measures as seemed most conducive to promote the common interest of our Lord. I doubt not but Satan envied our happiness; but I hope by the help of God we shall make his kingdom shake. God loves to do great things by weak instruments, that the power may be of God, and not of man. The partition wall of bigotry and party zeal is broken down in Wales, and ministers and teachers of different communions join with one heart and one mind to carry on the kingdom of Jesus Christ. The Lord make all the Christian world thus minded! For till this is done, I fear, we must despair of any great reformation in the Church of God.

"Thursday, March 9. Spent the beginning of the morning in prayer and private discourse with the members of the Religious Society. About ten, I went to the Town Hall, and preached for about an hour and a half to a large assembly of people. My dear brother, Howell Harris, sat close by me. I did not observe any scoffers within; but without some were pleased to honour me so far as to trail a dead fox, and hunt it round about the hall. After I had concluded, I went with many of my hearers, amongst whom were two worthy dissenting ministers and my brother Howell Harris, to public worship. In the Second Lesson were these remarkable words, 'And the high priest, and the scribes, and the chief of the people sought to destroy Him; but they could not find what they might do to Him: for all the people were attentive to hear Him.' In the afternoon, I preached again to the people, without any scoffing or disturbance; and, at six in the evening, I talked for above an hour and a half, and prayed with the Religious Society, whose room was quite thronged.

"Friday, March 10. Left Cardiff about six in the morning, and reached Newport about ten, where many came from Pontypool and other parts to hear me. The minister having readily granted us the pulpit, I preached to about a thousand people. Wales is excellently well prepared for the Gospel of Christ. They have many burning and shining lights both among the Dissenting and Church ministers, amongst whom Mr. Griffith Jones shines in particular.[187] No less than fifty charity schools have been erected by his means, without any settled visible fund, and fresh ones are setting up every day. People make nothing of coming twenty miles to hear a sermon, and great numbers there are who have not only been hearers, but doers also of the word.

"Saturday, March 11. Got safe to Bristol, with my dear fellow-travellers, about eleven at night."

These extracts from Whitefield's Journal are important, as shewing the work which had been begun, and which was prospering in Wales before Whitefield and the Wesleys commenced their great itinerant mission. The reader also has here the beginning of the warm-hearted friendship between Whitefield and Howell Harris, and of their evangelical co-operation, which issued in the founding of the Societies of the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists, and in other results which cannot now be noticed. What the "measures" were which Whitefield and Harris agreed upon for further promoting the work of God in Wales, it is impossible to determine; but henceforth the two were fellow-workers, and lived in the happiest amity.

Whitefield's labours during the seven weeks he spent at Bristol and in its neighbourhood were marvellous; but the most picturesque were those among the Kingswood colliers. It would be superfluous, it would be wearisome, to describe Kingswood and its ignorant and rude inhabitants, at the period now in question. This has been done so often, that Methodist readers already know all that Methodist writers have to tell on such a subject. Still, Whitefield's first services in this benighted neighbourhood cannot be omitted; for, in reality, Kingswood was the rough cradle in which Methodism was first rocked and nursed.

Here it was, on February 17, that Whitefield, for the first time, dared to be so irregular as to preach in the open air, his congregation consisting of upwards of two hundred persons. Altogether he preached about twenty sermons, from February 17 to April 2, in different parts of Kingswood, including Hannam Mount, Rose Green, and the Fish Ponds. Most of these were scenes of solemn grandeur. On February 23, when he estimated his congregation at from four to five thousand, he writes: "The sun shone very bright, and the people, standing in such an awful manner round the mount, in the profoundest silence, filled me with holy admiration." Two days later, he says: "At a moderate computation, there were above ten thousand people present. The trees and hedges were full. All was hush when I began, and God enabled me to preach for an hour, with great power, and so loud that all (I was told) could hear me. Blessed be God! Mr. B——n spoke right when he said, 'The fire is kindled in the country, and all the devils in hell shall not be able to quench it.'" On March 18,[188] at Rose Green, he calculated his congregation at not less than twenty thousand, and remarks, "To behold such crowds stand about us in such awful silence, and to hear the echo of their singing, is very solemn and surprising. My discourse continued for near an hour and a half." At the same place, on April 1, "There were twenty-four coaches and an exceeding great number of other people, besides the colliers, both on foot and horseback." Such was his success among the begrimed Kingswood colliers, that, before he left, they gave him £20 in money, and promised £40 in subscriptions, towards the erection of a Charity School, which he wished to build for the instruction of their children. He writes:—

"March 29. Were I to continue here, I would endeavour to settle schools all over the Wood, and also in other places, as Mr. Griffith Jones has done in Wales. I have but just time to set it on foot. I hope God will bless the ministry of my honoured friend, Mr. John Wesley, and enable him to bring it to good effect. It is a pity so many little ones as there are in Kingswood should perish for lack of knowledge."

Whitefield had requested Wesley to visit Bristol. The latter writes:—

"March, 1739. During my stay in London, I was fully employed, between our own Society in Fetter Lane, and many others, where I was continually desired to expound; so that I had no thought of leaving London when I received, after several others, a letter from Mr. Whitefield, and another from Mr. Seward, entreating me in the most pressing manner to come to Bristol without delay. This I was not at all forward to do, and perhaps the less inclined to it (though I trust I do not count my life dear unto myself, so I may finish my course with joy), because of the remarkable scriptures which offered as often as we enquired, touching the consequence of this removal—probably permitted for the trial of our faith: Deut. xxxii. 49, 50; Deut. xxxiv. 8; Acts ix. 16, and Acts viii. 2.

"March 28. My journey was proposed to our Society in Fetter Lane, but my brother Charles would scarce bear the mention of it; till, appealing to the oracles of God, he received those words as spoken to himself, and answered not again: 'Son of man, behold,' etc. (Ezek. xxiv. 16). Our other brethren, however, continuing the dispute, without any probability of their coming to a conclusion, we at length all agreed to decide it by lot. And by this it was determined that I should go. Several afterwards desiring we might open the Bible, concerning the issue of this, we did so on the several portions of Scripture, which I shall set down without any reflection on them. They were 2 Sam. iii. 1; 2 Sam. iv. 11; and 2 Chron. xxviii. 27."

This narrative, of combined bibliomancy and sortilege, is a curious one, but let it pass. Fortunately, by the kindness of Mr. G. Stampe, of Grimsby, I am able to furnish the reader with Whitefield's letter, never before published. It was as follows:—

"Bristol, March 22, 1739.

"Reverend Sir,—I rejoice at the success which God has given you at Oxford and elsewhere. I immediately kneeled down and prayed that you may go on from conquering to conquer.

"I thank you most heartily for your kind rebuke. I can only say it was too tender. I beseech you, whenever you see me do wrong, rebuke me sharply. I have still a word or two to offer in defence of my behaviour, but shall defer it till I come to town. If I have offended, I humbly ask pardon, and desire the brethren to pray that I may be such as God would have me be.

"If the brethren, after prayer for direction, think proper, I wish you would be here the latter end of next week. Brother Hutchins sets out to-morrow for Dummer. Mr. Chapman brings a horse to London, which you may ride. I go away, God willing, next Monday sennight. If you were here, before my departure, it might be best. Many are ripe for bands. I leave that entirely to you. I am but a novice; you are acquainted with the great things of God. Come, I beseech you; come quickly. I have promised not to leave this people till you or somebody come to supply my place. I am resigned to Brother Hutton's coming hither. The good Lord direct him!

"Desire the brethren's advice in the following case. Joseph is arrived. Because he would not submit to a lot, whether he should go with me to England or not, I said he never should return if he went. On board, he behaved well, exceeding well. What shall I do? Shall I keep to my vow that he should not return? or shall I break it? I am indifferent. I will do as the brethren shall direct.

"Great comfort and joy in the Holy Ghost does God, of His free grace, give me. I find myself strengthened in the inner man day by day. I feel an intenseness of love, and long that all should be partakers of it. I hope I grow in grace. To free grace be all the glory!

"God will fight for our dear brother Charles. I thank him for his letter. Blessed be God that both of you are not so brief as usual. God will bring light out of darkness. All these things are not against, but for us.

"Be pleased to bring the Account of my Temptations with you; and, though unworthy, permit me to subscribe myself, Reverend Sir,

"Your dutiful son and servant,
"George Whitefield.

"P.S. March 23. I beseech you come next week; it is advertised in this day's journal. I pray for a blessing on your journey, and in our meetings. The people expect you much. Though you come after, I heartily wish you may be preferred before me. Even so, Lord Jesus. Amen. Our brethren are here together. They advise you should go through Basingstoke, and call at Dummer, and there take the horse Brother Hutchins rides thither. Whosoever you may appoint shall ride Brother Chapman's. The Lord direct us all in all things!

"The Rev. Mr. John Wesley, at Mr. John Bray's, a Brazier, in Little Britain, in Aldersgate Street, London."

There are many points in this deeply interesting letter which deserve attention; such as the fact, that, notwithstanding Whitefield's taunt on Wesley, within two years afterwards, respecting the practice of sortilege, he himself now believed in it, and was in favour of its being used. Want of space, however, prevents enlargement.

Eight days after the date of Whitefield's letter, Wesley arrived in Bristol, to prosecute the wondrous work which his young friend had been honoured to begin; and, on April 2nd, Whitefield took his leave; and, with the exception of one day's visit in the month of July following, for the next two years the Bristol and Kingswood congregations were entrusted solely to the care of the Wesley brothers and of the lay evangelists who became their fellow-labourers. Whitefield shall give his own account of his departure from Methodism's cradle:—

"1739. Monday, April 2. Spent a good part of the morning in talking with those who came to take their leave; and tongue cannot express what a sorrowful parting we had. My heart was so melted, that I prayed for them with strong cryings and many tears. About one, I was obliged to force myself away. Crowds were waiting at the door to give me a last farewell, and near twenty friends accompanied me on horseback. Blessed be God for the marvellous great kindness He hath shewn me in Bristol! Many sinners, I believe, have been effectually converted; numbers have come to me under convictions; and all the children of God have been exceedingly comforted. Several thousands of little books have been dispersed among the people. About £200 have been collected for the Orphan House, and many poor families have been relieved by the bounty of my friend Mr. Seward. What gives me the greater comfort is the consideration that my dear and honoured friend, Mr. Wesley, is left behind to confirm those that are awakened, so that, when I return from Georgia, I hope to see many bold soldiers of Jesus Christ.[189]

"Having taken my leave, and passed through the people of Bristol, I came about two to Kingswood, where the colliers, unknown to me, had prepared an hospitable entertainment, and were very forward for me to lay the first stone of their school. A man giving me a piece of ground (in case Mr. C—— should refuse to grant them any), I laid a stone, and then kneeled down on it, and prayed that the gates of hell might not prevail against our design. The colliers said a hearty Amen, and, after I had given them a word of exhortation suitable to the occasion, I took my leave, promising that I would come amongst them again, if ever God should bring me back to England. I hope a reformation will be carried on amongst them. For my own part, I had rather preach the gospel to the unprejudiced ignorant colliers, than to the bigotted, self-righteous, formal Christians. The colliers will enter into the kingdom of God before them."

Thus, by kneeling on a loose stone, deposited in a piece of ground, provisionally promised as a site for the erection, was begun the memorable Kingswood School. This is not the place to relate the details of the ministry of Wesley and his brother, nor to dwell upon the history of Kingswood School. Suffice it to say, that, on the 12th of May next ensuing, Wesley, in Bristol, laid the foundation-stone of his first Methodist meeting-house; and that, in the month of June, he began to build the School in Kingswood. The following extract, also, from Wesley's Journal, is full of interest, and perfectly appropriate. It was written eight months after Wesley became Whitefield's successor in Bristol and its neighbourhood:—

"Few persons have lived long in the west of England, who have not heard of the colliers of Kingswood; a people famous, from the beginning hitherto, for neither fearing God nor regarding man; so ignorant of the things of God, that they seemed but one remove from the beasts that perish; and, therefore, utterly without desire of instruction, as well as without the means of it.

"Many, last winter, used tauntingly to say of Mr. Whitefield, 'If he will convert heathens, why does he not go to the colliers of Kingswood?' In spring, he did so; and as there were thousands who resorted to no place of public worship, he went after them into their own wilderness, 'to seek and save that which was lost.' When he was called away, others went into 'the highways and hedges, to compel them to come in.' And, by the grace of God, their labour was not in vain. The scene is already changed. Kingswood does not now, as a year ago, resound with cursing and blasphemy. It is no more filled with drunkenness and uncleanness, and the idle diversions that naturally lead thereto. It is no longer full of wars and fightings, of clamour and bitterness, of wrath and envyings. Peace and love are there. Great numbers of the people are mild, gentle, and easy to be entreated. They 'do not cry, neither strive;' and hardly is their 'voice heard in the streets,' or indeed in their own wood, unless when they are at their usual evening diversion,—singing praise unto God their Saviour."

Leaving Wesley at Bristol, Whitefield again went off to Wales, preaching in the open air at Thornbury and at the Old Passage on his way. At Usk, on April 4th, he met Howell Harris; and, being refused the use of the pulpit in the church, a table was placed under a large tree, upon which he discoursed "to some hundreds" of attentive listeners. Attended by a cavalcade of nearly fifty persons, he proceeded to Pontypool, and preached first in the church, and then, to the overflowings of his congregations, out of doors. Thirty horsemen accompanied him to Abergavenny, where, at "the backside of a garden," he addressed "about two thousand people, and did not spare the polite scoffers in the least." About forty on horseback went with him to Comihoy, where the minister of the church was "a hearty friend," but the congregation was so large that the churchyard had to be used as Whitefield's preaching place. "I could spend some months very profitably in Wales," he writes; "the longer I am in it, the more I like it. The people are simple and artless. They have left bigotry more than the generality of our Englishmen; and, through the exhortations of Howell Harris, and the ministry of others, they are hungering and thirsting after the righteousness of Jesus Christ."

On April 6th, in company with about sixty equestrians, he reached Caerleon, "a town," says he, "famous for having thirty British kings buried in it, and for producing three noble Christian martyrs. I chose particularly to come hither, because when my brother Howell Harris was here last, some of the baser sort beat a drum, and huzzaed around him, for the purpose of disturbing him. But God suffered them not to move a tongue now, though I preached from the very same place, and prayed for him by name, as I have in every place where I have preached in Wales. God forbid I should be ashamed either of my Master or His servants! Many thousands were there from all parts, and God gave me such extraordinary assistance, that I was carried out beyond myself."

At Trelegg, Whitefield preached "upon the horse-block before the inn;" at Chepstow, in the church; and at Coleford, in the market-house. On April 9th, he arrived at Gloucester, in the neighbourhood of which he spent the next eight days. Howell Harris, as well as William Seward, was his travelling companion. The following is taken from the Gloucester Journal of April 24, 1739:—

"On the 9th inst., the Rev. Mr. Whitefield came to this city (the place of his nativity) from Wales; having preached in Usk Street; in Pontypool Church and field; in Abergavenny, from a place built on purpose, against a gentleman's wall; in Caerleon field, from a pulpit built for the famous Mr. Howell Harris, who came with him hither, and goes with him to London. He was attended from Usk to Pontypool, and from thence to Abergavenny, and to Caerleon, by sixty or seventy horse, so great was the love of the people to his person, and to his doctrine of the new birth," etc.

Whitefield's ministry in Gloucester and its vicinity was quite as irregular and as remarkable as it had been in Wales. On April 10, besides visiting three Religious Societies in the city, he also preached in St. Michael's Church; but, on the day following, at the conclusion of his sermon, the same church was closed against him, on the ground that "the greatness of his congregations" seriously interfered with public business. With the exception of another instance, to be mentioned shortly, these were the only services that Whitefield was allowed to hold in the Gloucester churches. The result was, he began to preach, to assembled thousands, in the Booth Hall, and in a field attached to the Bell Inn, and belonging to his brother. The newspaper just quoted says:—

"On Tuesday and Wednesday, he preached at the parish church of St. Michael's; but that, as well as one other pulpit, being afterwards denied, and having no prospect of better success with the rest of his brethren, he, on Thursday, Friday, Sunday, and Monday, preached to some thousands in a field belonging to the Bell Inn; also on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday nights, in the Booth Hall, to about three or four thousand each time. Great power has attended his preaching; great numbers have been strengthened in their Christian faith, and are exceedingly sorrowful at his departure from them."

Whitefield's views and feelings will be best expressed in his own words. He writes:—

"1739, Thursday, April 12th. Preached to nearly three thousand hearers in a field belonging to my brother. Cry out who will against this my frowardness, I cannot see my dear countrymen and fellow-Christians everywhere ready to perish, through ignorance and unbelief, and not endeavour to convince them of both. I call upon them who forbid me to speak to these poor baptized heathens, to give a reason for their so doing—a reason which may satisfy not man only, but God. I am, and profess myself, a member of the Church of England. I have received no prohibition from any of the bishops; and, having had no fault found by them with my life or doctrine, have the same general license to preach which the rectors are willing to think sufficient for their curates; nor can any of them produce one instance of their having refused the assistance of a stranger clergyman, because he had not a written license. And have their lordships, the bishops, insisted that no person shall ever preach occasionally without such special license? Is not our producing our Letters of Orders always judged sufficient? Have not some of us been allowed to preach in Georgia and other places, by no other than our general commission? His lordship of London allowed of my preaching in Georgia, even when I had only received Deacon's Orders; and I have never been charged by his lordship with teaching or living otherwise than as a true minister of the Church of England. I keep close to her Articles and Homilies, which, if my opposers did, we should not have so many dissenters from her. But it is most notorious that for the iniquity of the priests the land mourns. We have preached and lived many sincere persons out of our communion. I have now conversed with several of the best of all denominations; and many of them solemnly protest that they went from the church because they could not find food for their souls. They stayed among us till they were starved out. I know this declaration will expose me to the ill-will, not of all my brethren, but of all my indolent, earthly-minded, pleasure-taking brethren. But were I not to speak, the very stones would cry out against them. Speak, therefore, I must, and will, and will not spare. God look to the event!"

No doubt all this is true; but still, the clergy had a right to refuse the use of their churches to the young evangelist; and it must also be admitted that there is throughout Whitefield's statement a strain of egotism scarcely modest, and at the end of it a tone of censoriousness hardly in harmony with Christian courtesy. Unfortunately, this was not the only imprudent attack of Whitefield on the indolence, the earthly-mindedness, and pleasure-taking habits of his brethren in the ministry. There were ample grounds for it; but the attack was not politic. It resulted in no good, and not unreasonably exposed Whitefield to retaliatory critiques. But more of this anon.

Besides his preaching in the Booth Hall and in his brother's field, Whitefield preached out of doors at Painswick, Chalford, Stroud, Stonehouse, and Oxenhall. Strangely enough, his last service, for the present, was performed in the church he attended in the days of his boyhood. He writes:—

"1739, April 17, Tuesday. About eleven, by the bishop's permission, I baptized, in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, Mr. Thomas W——d, a professed Quaker, about sixty years of age, who was convinced of the necessity of being born again of water as well as of the Spirit. Many of Christ's faithful servants attended on the prayers around him; and, I believe, the Holy Ghost was with us of a truth. After the solemnity was over, I gave a word of exhortation from the font; and, being the place where I myself not long since had been baptized, it gave me an opportunity of reflecting on the frequent breaches of my baptismal vow, and of proving the necessity of the new birth from the office of our Church.

"After this, and having dined, I prayed with and took leave of my weeping friends. When I came to the city, I found the devil had painted me in most horrible colours; for it was currently reported that I was really mad, that I had said I was the Holy Ghost, and that I had walked bare-headed through Bristol streets, singing psalms. But God was pleased to shew the people that the devil was a liar, and that the words I spoke were not those of a madman, but the words of soberness and truth."

Having baptized the old Quaker, and unnecessarily repudiated the stupid charge of being mad, because he had sung with uncovered head in the streets of Bristol, he set out for Cheltenham, accompanied by about a dozen of his friends. Until recently, Cheltenham had been a poor, straggling hamlet of a few thatched cottages, sheltered by the Cotswold Hills. The first Spa was discovered in 1716, and since then, during a period of twenty years, the insignificant village had been full of bustle, for its site was in the process of being transformed into the squares, crescents, terraces, and promenades of the fashionable Cheltenham of the present day. As Whitefield and his friends passed along, the rustic inhabitants, at the doors of their humble cottages, stood and stared. Whitefield applied for the use of the parish church. His application was refused; and therefore he preached, he says, "to near two thousand people,"[190] on the Plough Inn bowling-green. He adds, "Many were convicted. One woman wept greatly, because she had said I was crazy; and some were so filled with the Holy Ghost, that they were almost unable to support themselves under it."

From Cheltenham, Whitefield proceeded to Evesham, in the neighbourhood of which he spent three days among the relatives of his friend William Seward. He shall relate his own story.

"1739, April 18, Wednesday. Got safe to Evesham (where Mr. Seward's relations live) about seven at night. Several persons came to see me, amongst whom was Mr. Benjamin Seward, whom God has been pleased to call by His free grace very lately. For some years he had been at Cambridge. As touching the law, so far as outward morality went, he was blameless; but he disliked my proceedings, and once had a mind, he said, to write against Mr. Law's enthusiastic notions in his 'Christian Perfection.' Lately, however, he has had an eight days' sickness; in which time he scarce ever ate, or drank, or slept, and underwent great inward agonies and tortures. After this, God sent a poor travelling woman, who came to sell straw toys, to instruct him in the nature of the second birth; and now he is resolved to prepare for Holy Orders. He is a gentleman of very large fortune, which he has devoted to God. I write this to shew how far a man may go, and yet know nothing of Jesus Christ. Here is one who constantly attended on the means of grace, exact in his morals, humane and courteous in his conversation, who gave much in alms, was frequent in private duties; and yet, till about six weeks ago, was as destitute of any saving, experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, as those on whom His name was never called, and who still sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. How often has my companion and honoured friend, Mr. William Seward, been deemed a madman, even by this very brother, for going to Georgia; but now God has made him an instrument of converting his brother. This, more and more, convinces me that we must be despised before we can be vessels fit for God's use.

"April 19, Thursday. Went to Badsey, about two miles from Evesham, where Mr. Seward's eldest brother lives. We were most kindly received. About four in the afternoon, the churches at Evesham, Bengeworth, and Badsey being denied, I preached from the cross, in the middle of Evesham street, to a great congregation; and then went to Badsey, and preached in Mr. Seward's brother's yard.

"April 20, Friday. Preached about nine in the morning at the cross in Evesham, went to public worship, and received the sacrament. Preached at Badsey at five in the evening, and returned and expounded in the town hall, which was quite thronged. The recorder himself procured the keys for us.

"April 21, Saturday. Preached in the morning at Badsey, to a weeping audience, and set out for Oxford, which I reached at about ten at night."

At Oxford, Whitefield was thrown into amusing perturbation by an event which might have been expected to secure his warm approval. Charles Kinchin, one of the most zealous of the Oxford Methodists, was Rector of Dummer and Fellow and Dean of Corpus Christi College. Greatly to Whitefield's distress of mind, Kinchin had resolved to declare himself a Dissenter. He had left the college, intended to resign his living, and purposed, as soon as he was really converted, to become an itinerant preacher.[191] Whitefield himself was already an itinerant, either by necessity, or choice, or both; and yet he seems to have been ridiculously horrified at the probability of Kinchin following his example. He writes:—

"The step taken by Mr. Kinchin gave me a great shock. For I knew what dreadful consequences would attend a needless separation from the Established Church. For my own part, I can see no reason for my leaving the Church, however I am treated by the corrupt members and ministers of it. I judge of the state of a church, not from the practice of its members, but its primitive and public constitutions; and so long as I think the Articles of the Church of England are agreeable to Scripture, I am resolved to preach them up without either bigotry or party zeal."

Already Hervey, another of the Oxford Methodists, had written to Kinchin a letter, of more than a dozen printed octavo pages,[192] and had strongly and lovingly entreated him not to leave the Church. Whitefield wrote to the same effect. His letter is thoroughly characteristic, and abbreviation would injure it.

"Oxon, April 22, 1739.

"Dearest Mr. Kinchin,—Just now I have received the blessed sacrament, and have been praying for you. Let me exhort you, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus, not to resign your parsonage till you have consulted your friends in London. It is undoubtedly true that all is not right when we are afraid to be open to our dear brethren.

"Satan has desired to sift you as wheat. He is dealing with you as he did with me some years ago, when he kept me in my closet near six weeks, because I could not do anything with a single intention. So he would have you not to preach till you have received the Holy Ghost in the full assurance of it; and that is the way never to have it at all. God will be found in the use of means; and our Lord sent out His disciples to preach before[193] they had received the Holy Ghost in that most plentiful manner at the day of Pentecost.

"Besides, consider, my dear brother, what confusion your separation from the Church will occasion. The prison doors" (at Oxford) "are already shut" (against us). "Our Society is stopped; and most are afraid almost to converse with us. I can assure you, that my being a minister of the Church of England, and preaching its articles, is a means, under God, of drawing so many after me.

"As for objecting about habits, robes, etc., good God! I thought we long since knew that the kingdom of God did not consist in any externals, but in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

"Oh! my dear brother, I travail in pain for you. Never was I more shocked at anything than at your proceedings. I doubt not that you will pray to God to be kept from delusion at the reading of this. I am not ignorant of Satan's devices, and I know he never more successfully tempts us, than when he turns himself into an angel of light. Oh! my dearest Mr. Kinchin, do nothing rashly. Consult your friends, and do not break the heart of your most affectionate, though unworthy brother in Christ,

"George Whitefield."

Though it is not necessary to pursue the subject, it may be added, 1. That Kinchin was prompted to act as he did chiefly by three Moravian brethren;[194] 2. Though there can be little doubt that he resigned his Fellowship and his office of Dean of Corpus Christi College, it is not certain that he resigned his living; 3. When he died, on January 4, 1742, he left behind him a young widow of the age of thirty, who, ten months afterwards, was one of the enrolled members of "the Congregation of the Lamb, in London;" and, within eighteen months after that, became the wife of Ludolph Ernest Schlicht,[195] who officiated as one of the principal Moravian ministers in London, Dublin, and other places.

Whitefield spent two days at Oxford, trying to put wrong things right. Of course, he was not allowed the use of any of the Oxford churches; but he says:—

"I visited two Societies, at the first of which many gownsmen did me the honour of coming to hear. Before I began, I desired them to behave like gentlemen and Christians. I also prayed particularly for them, and applied myself in meekness and love to them at the end of my discourse. They behaved quietly; but afterwards followed me to my inn, and came uninvited up into my room. I took that opportunity to give them a second exhortation; and though some, no doubt, mocked, yet, I believe, some will remember what was said. Blessed be God for sending me hither! Our dear brother Kinchin, falling into such an error, has given such a shock, that, unless I had come, in all probability the brethren would have been scattered abroad like sheep having no shepherd."

Next morning, before setting out for London, Whitefield conducted another religious service; during which the Vice-Chancellor of the University came and sent a message, requesting Whitefield to come downstairs to see him.[196] As soon as the young preacher presented himself, the learned Don angrily exclaimed, "Have you, sir, a name in any book here?" "Yes, sir," said Whitefield, "but I intend to take it out soon." "Yes," replied the wrathful magnate, "and you had best take yourself out too, or otherwise I will lay you up by the heels. What do you mean by going about, alienating the people's affections from their proper pastors? Your works are full of vanity and nonsense. You pretend to inspiration. If you ever come again in this manner among these people, I will lay you first by the heels, and these shall follow." Having delivered himself of this official threat, the Vice-Chancellor "turned his back, and went away." "I exhorted the brethren," says Whitefield, "not to forsake the assembling of themselves together, though no pastor should be permitted to come amongst them; for, so long as they continued steadfast in the communion of the Established Church, I told them, no power on earth could justify hindering them continuing in fellowship, as the primitive Christians did, in order to build up each other in the knowledge and fear of God. Oh, what advantage has Satan gained over us by our brother Kinchin putting off his gown!"

The ungentlemanly menace of the Vice-Chancellor was an empty one, and yet it evidently caused Whitefield some anxiety. Hence, on the same day, he wrote as follows to his friend Harris:—

"I rejoice to hear Mr. Cole[197] builds you up in your most holy faith. Who knows but you may, under God, keep up religion in Gloucester? Mr. Kinchin's conduct, in leaving the Church and giving up the parsonage, has sadly grieved the spirit of many good people here. My heart is drawn towards London most strangely. Perhaps you may hear of your friend's imprisonment. I expect no other preferment. God grant I may behave so, that when I suffer, it may not be for my own imprudencies, but for righteousness' sake! Then, I am sure, the spirit of Christ and of glory will rest upon my soul."

On April 25th, Whitefield and his friends, William Seward and Howell Harris, arrived in London, where (excepting one or two brief excursions made to other places) he continued until the end of June. This was a most important epoch in Whitefield's history, and must be carefully examined.

It is a significant fact, that, though it was through three Moravians that Charles Kinchin was (as Whitefield thought) so disastrously led astray, Whitefield still maintained a close connection with the Moravian Society in Fetter Lane, and, up to the time of his second embarkation for Georgia, attended their assemblies, and assisted in their services. He was really, if not nominally, one of their brotherhood; and, on Sunday, May 20, made the following entry in his Journal: "Went with our brethren of Fetter Lane Society to St. Paul's, and received the holy sacrament, as a testimony that we adhered to the Church of England."

It was not, however, as a Moravian that Whitefield became so notable; but as an outdoor preacher, whose congregations, voice, and oratory were unparalleled.

At this period, the vicar of Islington was the Rev. George Stonehouse, who had recently been converted, chiefly by means of Charles Wesley; and who, like Whitefield and the Wesley brothers, evinced great affection for the Moravian fraternity. In fact, he soon afterwards so identified himself with the Brethren, that he sold his living, and retired to Sherborne, in the west of England, where he fitted up a Moravian meeting house capable of accommodating five hundred people.

Mr. Stonehouse was now the only clergyman in London willing to lend his pulpit to poor outcast Whitefield; and even he was not able to carry out his wishes. Whitefield, the day after he reached London, wrote as follows:—

"Thursday, April 26. Assisted in administering the blessed sacrament at Islington, where the vicar, in conformity to the rubric, takes care to observe the octaves of Easter.

"Friday, April 27. Went this morning to Islington to preach, according to the appointment of my dear brother in Christ, the Reverend Mr. Stonehouse; but, in the midst of the prayers, the churchwarden came, demanding me to produce my license, or otherwise he forbad my preaching in that pulpit. I believe I might have insisted upon my right to preach, being in priest's orders, and having the presentation of the living at Savannah, which is in the Bishop of London's diocese,—a stronger license than that implicit one by which hundreds of the inferior clergy are by his lordship permitted to preach. However, for the sake of peace, I declined preaching in the church; but, after the communion service was over, I preached in the churchyard, being assured my Master now called me out here, as well as in Bristol.[198] God was pleased so to assist me in preaching, and so wonderfully to affect the hearers, that, I believe, we could have gone singing of hymns to prison. Let not the adversaries say I have thrust myself out of their synagogues. No, they have thrust me out. And since the self-righteous men of this generation count themselves unworthy, I go out into the highways and hedges, and compel harlots, publicans, and sinners to come in, that my Master's house may be filled. They who are sincere will follow after me to hear the word of God."[199]

Thus was Whitefield driven to outdoor preaching in London, as well as in Bristol. Perhaps he would have preferred a church; but now he must either preach out of doors, or not at all. His spirit might be vexed, but was not depressed. On the very day when the imperious churchwarden thrust him out of Islington Church into the churchyard, he wrote to his friend Harris at Gloucester:—

"To-day, my Master, by His providence and Spirit, compelled me to preach in the churchyard at Islington. To-morrow, I am to repeat that mad trick, and, on Sunday, to go out into Moorfields. The word of the Lord runs and is glorified. People's hearts seem quite broken. God strengthens me exceedingly. I preach till I sweat through and through. Innumerable blessings does God pour down upon me. Oh that I had a thankful heart!"

When Sunday came, Whitefield, not surprisingly, did more than he intended. He writes:—

"Sunday, April 29. Preached in the morning at Moorfields, to an exceeding great multitude. At ten, went to Christ Church, and heard Doctor Trapp preach most virulently against me and my friends, upon these words, 'Be not righteous over-much: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?' God gave me great serenity of mind; but, alas! the preacher was not so calm as I wished him. His sermon was founded upon wrong suppositions, not to say that there were many direct untruths in it. And he argued so strenuously against all inward feelings, that he plainly proved that, with all his learning, he knew nothing yet as he ought to know. At five, I preached at Kennington Common, about two miles from London, where thirty thousand people were supposed to be present. The wind carried my voice to the extremest part of the audience. All stood attentive, and joined in the Psalm and the Lord's Prayer most regularly. I scarce ever preached more quietly in any church. The word came with power. The people were much affected. All agreed it was never seen on this wise before. I hope a good inroad has been made into the devil's kingdom this day.[200]

"Monday, April 30. Declined preaching to-day, that I might have leisure to write to some of my correspondents, and make preparations for my poor orphans in Georgia. Heard that Mr. Kinchin had got over his scruples, and of the wonderful success of my honoured friend Mr. John Wesley's ministry in Bristol, and of much opposition at Oxford. Certainly God is about to bring mighty things to pass."

So ended this eventful month of April. Wesley, whom Whitefield had left as his successor, was preaching to thousands upon thousands in Bristol and its vicinity, and already numbers were falling on the ground as if "thunderstruck," and in the greatest excitement calling upon God for mercy. Whitefield had prepared Wesley's way in Bristol, and he was now doing the same in London. Moorfields—a park laid out in grass plots, intersected by broad gravel walks, and shaded by rows of well-grown elms—was "the city mall." Kennington Common—a mile beyond the small hamlet of Newington, and situated at the end of a vast conglomerated garden which extended to what is now Westminster Bridge—was the rendezvous of London riff-raffs, and the ghostly locale where hundreds of condemned felons had been hanged and gibbeted. These, henceforth, were two of Whitefield's grand cathedrals.[201]

Doctor Trapp has just been mentioned. This gentleman, like Whitefield, was born in Gloucestershire, and educated at Oxford; but he was thirty-six years Whitefield's senior. He was a culpable pluralist. In 1721, he became vicar of Christ Church, Newgate Street, and rector of St. Leonard's, Foster Lane. In 1733, the famous Lord Bolingbroke made him rector of Harlington, in Middlesex; and, a year later, he was elected a joint lecturer of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. These were the church-preferments of the fervent ecclesiastic, who deemed it his high duty to belabour the poor Methodists. Turbulence was an element in which Dr. Trapp liked to live. He had acted as manager for Dr. Sacheverell on his memorable trial in 1709. Several of his principal publications had been of a controversial character. There can be no question that he had a keen relish for a scuffle. He was a man of extensive learning, and Bishop Pearce pronounced him to be of all English students the most diligent. His wit was considerable, but his temper hasty. The one sharpened the other, and made it more gashing.

The sermon by Trapp, which Whitefield heard in Christ Church, on Sunday, April 29th, was probably the first of the series. At all events, the Gentleman's Magazine announced that the "fourth and last sermon against Mr. Whitefield and the Methodists" was "preached on Sunday, May 20th," and that the sermons were to "be printed at the earnest request of the audience."[202]

Dr. Trapp, in compliance with "the earnest request" of his hearers, immediately issued an octavo pamphlet of sixty-nine pages, with the title, "The Nature, Folly, Sin, and Danger of being Righteous over-much; with a particular view to the Doctrines and Practices of certain Modern Enthusiasts. Being the Substance of Four Discourses lately preached in the Parish Churches of Christ Church, and St. Lawrence Jewry, London, and St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, Westminster. By Joseph Trapp, D.D." Before the end of the year, the work reached a third edition. A few extracts, obviously aimed at Whitefield, may be useful.

In a paragraph censuring "ignorant, illiterate people who presume to expound the Scriptures," the learned Doctor says:—

"Suppose another, though in holy orders, yet a raw novice very lately initiated into them, shall take upon him, at his first setting out, to execute, as it were, the office of an apostle,—to be a teacher, not only of all the laity in all parts of the kingdom, but of the teachers themselves, the learned clergy, many of them learned before he was born,—to reflect upon and censure them as if they did not know their duty, or would not do it without being instructed and reproved by him,—what is this but an outrage upon common decency and common sense? the height of presumption, confidence, and self-sufficiency; so ridiculous as to create the greatest laughter, were it not so deplorable and detestable as to create the greatest grief and abhorrence; especially if vast multitudes are so sottish, and wicked too, as, in a tumultuous manner, to run madding after him? Surely it is shocking and prodigious for so young a son of Levi to take much upon him."

Such seems to have been the winding-up of the first sermon—the one which Whitefield himself heard in Christ Church. No wonder Whitefield wrote, "The preacher was not so calm as I wished him."

The next extract is equally personal and offensive.

"There is a mighty difference between appearance and reality. There is often the deepest pride where there is no high or lofty look, and the height of confidence and self-sufficiency under the guise of the greatest modesty. But how shall we distinguish? 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' A pharisaical ostentation, and outward show of piety, praying, or singing psalms in the corners of the streets, to be seen of men, is one undoubted sign of pride, and that the worst sort of it—spiritual pride. Again, he is proud who 'exercises himself in great matters which are too high for him,'—who pretends to be more than ordinarily knowing in things which he knows nothing of,—who peremptorily censures his betters, and takes upon him to teach his teachers. All this is contrary to the spirit and genius of the Gospel, to the modesty and humility of the Christian religion. These are indications of the worst sort of pride; or if not pride, it is a folly that approaches very near to madness."

In reference to the Moravian and other Religious Societies, in whose meetings Whitefield so frequently expounded, the zealous, censorious preacher says:—

"The Church itself is, by these irregular, upstart Societies, even by the best of them, and much more by the worst, greatly weakened and impaired. For though they do constantly attend divine service, as prescribed in the public offices, yet I appeal to all discerning and judicious persons, whether, in the nature of things, they are not likely to set a greater value upon their own particular meetings and exercises, set up purely by their own fancies, and commanded by no authority of God or man. To be plain, if what I am informed of these meetings be true, they are schismatical, in their tendency at least, though not so designed; for there may be a schism in the Church, as well as a schism from the Church. If it be true that they consist of considerable numbers, that they have prayers (some, too, extemporary ones), and preaching, or something like it, I do not see how they can be deemed legal assemblies. The public meetings of Protestant Dissenters from the Church are tolerated by law, and licensed by authority; but I never heard that these are either. If they should be, I doubt there would be more danger to the Church from a kind of half-dissenters in it, than from those who are total dissenters from it."

Whitefield's open-air preaching occasioned great disquietude to the minister of three churches in London and one in the country. Dr. Trapp remarks:—

"We have heard of Field-Conventicles in Scotland, among the enthusiasts of that country; which yet, I think, were there always suppressed by the authority of Church or State, or both. We have had, in former times, something of this nature in England, as practised by Brownists, Anabaptists, Quakers, Ranters, or such like. But for a clergyman of the Church of England to pray and preach in the fields in the country, or in the streets in the city, is perfectly new; never heard of before; a fresh honour to the blessed age, in which we have the happiness to live. To pray, preach, and sing psalms in the streets and fields is worse, if possible, than intruding into pulpits by downright violence and breach of the peace; and then denying the plain fact with the most infamous prevarication.[203] I could say much here; but am quite ashamed to speak upon a subject which is a shame and reproach, not only to our Church and country, but to human nature itself. Can it promote the Christian religion, to turn it into riot, tumult, and confusion?—to make it ridiculous and contemptible, and expose it to the scorn and scoffs of infidels and atheists? If it be alleged, as I think it is, that Christ and His apostles prayed and preached in the fields, on mountains, and on the sea-shore,—I ask, Have these creatures the same spirit and power that they had? Is Christianity now in its infancy, as it was then? Was the Church then established as it is now? Are we now to be converted to Christianity, from Judaism or heathenism, as people were in those days? Or if we were, are such false and spurious apostles as these able to convert us? I might here very properly urge the canons of the Church of England, and the laws of the civil state. But the thing, though detestable and of most pernicious tendency, is, in another view, too contemptible to be longer insisted upon. It would likewise be endless, as well as nauseous, to make reflections upon that rhapsody of madness, spiritual pride, and little less than blasphemy, if not quite so, which this field preacher calls his Journal; and so I say no more of it. Go not after these impostors and seducers; but shun them as you would the plague. Those who run after them are the enemies of our religion and Church. These Protestant enthusiasts, with all Protestant heretics, schismaticks, and false teachers, on the one hand; and the free-thinkers, infidels, deists, and atheists, on the other, are doing the work of Papists for them, to their hearts' desire."

In this fit of nausea and disgust Dr. Trapp might be dismissed; but, before parting with him, another of his virulent outpourings must be noticed.

Three months later in the year, the following was published:—"The Nature, Usefulness, and Regulation of Religious Zeal. A Sermon preached at St. Mary's, Oxon; before the Right Honourable Mr. Justice Fortescue Aland and Mr. Baron Thompson; and before the University of Oxford; at the Assizes held there, on Thursday, August 2nd, 1739. By Joseph Trapp, D.D., Minister of Christ Church and St. Leonard's, Foster Lane, London. Published at the desire of the Judges and the Vice-Chancellor." (8vo. 32 pp.)

One extract from this highly patronized sermon must suffice.

"No false zeal is more abusive than that of our modern infidels, on the one hand, and our modern enthusiasts, pretending to be the only true believers, on the other: Christianity and Christians by the former, and our Established Church and clergy by both; being outraged with such virulence and malice, such insolence and contempt, as was never heard of before; and would not be endured by any Christian nation under heaven, but this in which we live. Some emotion in the affections, and in the blood and spirits, is both becoming and useful; but rage and fury is neither. The good Christian may have, and should have, some warmth and even heat; but not be like a red-hot iron, hissing and sparkling from the forge, and dropping fire wherever it reaches. A brisk gale at sea is one thing, but a storm is another. Let false zealots be like raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; but let the truly zealous Christian carefully avoid these exorbitances. Let Popery and Protestant enthusiasm, infidelity, and atheism, all leagued against Christianity in general and the Church of England in particular, rage like a possessed pythoness; but let every good Christian know and consider what manner of spirit he is of, which is not such a manner of spirit as that."

Public attacks like these were hard to bear; especially in the case of a young man of twenty-four, ardent, enthusiastic, ambitious, and somewhat overweening, like Whitefield. In his sermon on "The Marriage of Cana," Whitefield writes:—

"What a sad inference one of our masters of Israel, in a printed sermon, has lately drawn from this commendation of the bridegroom! His words are these: 'Our blessed Saviour came eating and drinking, was present at weddings, and other entertainments; nay, at one of them, worked a miracle to make wine, when it is plain there had been more drank than was absolutely necessary for the support of nature; and consequently something had been indulged to pleasure and cheerfulness.'[204]

"I am sorry such words should come from the mouth and pen of a dignified clergyman of the Church of England. Alas! how is she fallen! or, at least, in what danger must her tottering ark be, when such unhallowed hands are stretched out to support it! Well may I bear patiently to be styled a blasphemer, and a setter forth of strange doctrines, when my dear Lord Jesus is thus traduced, and when those who pretend to preach in His name urge this example to patronise licentiousness and excess!"

A more lengthy and less temperate critique by Whitefield will be mentioned shortly. Meanwhile, a reply was published by the Rev. Robert Seagrave, M.A., in an octavo pamphlet of 32 pages, with the title, "An Answer to the Reverend Dr. Trapp's four Sermons against Mr. Whitefield, shewing the Sin and Folly of being Angry over-much." The title-page also bore the following text from the Apocrypha: "He was made to reprove our thoughts. He is grievous unto us even to behold; for His life is not like other men's; His ways are of another fashion (Wisdom ii. 14, 15)." This pamphlet passed through two editions in the year 1739.

Mr. Seagrave was born on November 22, 1693, at Twyford, in Leicestershire, where his father was vicar from 1687 to 1720. At the age of seventeen, he was admitted sizar of Clare Hall, Cambridge, where he subsequently took the degrees of B.A. and M.A.[205] He heartily sympathised with Whitefield; and failing to obtain a church, or, perhaps, not desiring to be the minister of one, he became, in 1739, a sort of extra parochial clergyman, and occupied the Lorimers' or Leather-Cutters' Hall, situated at the north end of Basinghall Street. This hall, for at least forty years, had been used as a dissenting meeting-house, first by the Particular Baptists, and next by a Society of Independents. Here, in 1706, the celebrated Dr. Daniel Neal was ordained, and officiated as minister, until his increasing congregation rendered it necessary to remove to a larger meeting-house in Jewin Street.[206]

For some years, Mr. Seagrave preached in Lorimers' Hall with much success. "He was a good minister of Jesus Christ, a workman who needed not to be ashamed. He was a man of eminent piety, great humility, and remarkable zeal and diligence, and very exemplary in the whole of his conversation. Besides his Answer to Dr. Trapp, he was the author of "Observations upon the Conduct of the Clergy in Relation to the Thirty-Nine Articles, with an Essay towards a Real Protestant Establishment;" also "A Letter to the People of England;"[207] and likewise "Hymns for Christian Worship, 1742." He was also the author of about half a dozen other pamphlets, tracts, and sermons.

Want of space makes it impossible to give an outline of Mr. Seagrave's reply to Dr. Trapp; but three brief extracts from this scarce production may be welcome.

"Little or nothing was objected to the Methodists, by the clergy, while they continued in our churches, excepting some disorders and inconveniences arising, by their means, to our places of worship; but, from the time they unexpectedly undertook to preach in fields, and in a manner not altogether favourable to ecclesiastical maxims and church authority, they have commenced impostors, enthusiasts, and novelists. They have likewise acquired very additional blame for asserting that they discern several valuable and worthy Christians amongst Dissenters of every branch. To which I reply: (1) Does preaching in a field annul that character or commission of a minister, in all respects ordained like the rest, which divines themselves call an indelible character? A discovery seems to be made, that the exercise of a minister's function subsists no longer than he shall absolutely coincide with the majority of his brethren, or shall think as his diocesan thinks. (2) The Dissenters have mostly kept the old truths which now begin to be discovered. Why should we confine all religion, and all learning, and all knowledge to our own Church? The Methodists think they see more religion and real knowledge at present amongst the Dissenters than (I am sorry to say it) is commonly seen in our own Church; and they have the impartiality not to deny it."

"I shall not deny that instances of folly are imputable to the Methodists. Persons have sung psalms in streets and corners; an indiscretion this, but no crime. We ought to balance the bad part with the good. Nothing but obstinacy and envy can deny that a great reformation has arisen upon the manners of the age by the itinerant's preaching. If the gospel be preached in the church, it is well and desirable; but, when our clergy leave the old truths, and are fallen into the scheme of Deism, though they may not discern it, men have a right to hear the truth in the field, or in a meeting-house, supposing they can find it nowhere else."

One more extract, partly aimed at Dr. Trapp as a pluralist, must suffice.

"Nothing can weaken the credit of any clergy so much as their own indiscretions and exorbitancy of ambition. When they afford suspicion of their being lovers of themselves, and negligent of their respective flocks; when they break the regularity of their own church by pluralities, dispensations, and other enormities; and, above all, when they are actually fallen aside from their foundation by departing from their own constituent articles, a solemn subscription notwithstanding,—this really may and ought to weaken and impair, if not the Church, yet certainly the reputation of such in it, who harbour the present rash and overbearing principles.[208]

It is time to return to Whitefield on the playground of the London rabble, Kennington Common. He writes:—

"1739, Wednesday, May 2. Preached this evening to above ten thousand, at Kennington Common, and spent the remainder of the evening in conference with our brethren in Fetter Lane Society. Our brethren, who have fallen into errors, have left us voluntarily.

"Thursday, May 3. Preached, at six in the evening, at Kennington, and great power was amongst us. The audience was more numerous and silent than yesterday.

"Saturday, May 5. Preached yesterday and to-day at Kennington Common, to about twenty thousand hearers, who were very much affected.

"Sunday, May 6. Preached this morning in Moorfields, to about twenty thousand people, who were very quiet and attentive, and much affected. Went to public worship morning and evening; and, at six, preached at Kennington. Such a sight I never saw before. I believe there were no less than fifty thousand people, near four-score coaches, besides great numbers of horses. There was an awful silence among the people. God gave me great enlargement of heart. I continued my discourse for an hour and a half.

"Tuesday, May 8. Preached in the evening, as usual, on Kennington Common. Before I set out from town, it rained very hard; but when I came to the Common, I saw, to my great surprise, above twenty thousand people. Except for a few moments, the sun shone out upon us; and I trust the Sun of righteousness arose on some with healing in His wings.

"Wednesday, May 9. Waited at noon upon the trustees for Georgia. They received me with the utmost civility, agreed to everything I asked, and gave a grant of five hundred acres of land, to me and my successors for ever, for the use of the Orphan House. At night, God enabled me to preach to about twenty thousand, for above an hour, at Kennington. The hearers contributed most cheerfully and liberally towards the Orphan House. I was one of the collectors. It would have delighted any one to see with what eagerness and cheerfulness the people came up both sides of the eminence on which I stood, and afterwards to the coach doors, to throw in their mites. When we came home, we found we had collected above £47, amongst which were £16 in halfpence.

"Thursday, May 10. Preached at Kennington, but it rained most part of the day. There were not above ten thousand people, and thirty coaches.

"Friday, May 11. Preached at Kennington to a larger audience than last night, and collected £26 15s. 6d. for the Orphan House.

"Saturday, May 12. Agreed to-day, for myself and eleven others, to go on board the Elizabeth, Captain Allen, to Pennsylvania, where I design to preach the gospel in my way to Georgia, and to buy provisions for my Orphan House. Many came to me in the morning, telling me what God had done for their souls by my preaching in the fields. In the evening, I preached to about twenty thousand at Kennington. I offered Jesus Christ to all that could apply Him to their hearts by faith.

"Sunday, May 13. Preached this morning to a prodigious number of people in Moorfields, and collected for the orphans £52 19s. 6d., above £20 of which was in halfpence. Indeed, they almost wearied me in receiving their mites, and they were more than one man could carry home. Went to public worship twice, and preached in the evening to near sixty thousand people.[209] Many went away because they could not hear. After sermon, I made another collection of £29 17s. 8d.

"Monday, May 14. Spent most of this day in visiting some friends, and settling my Georgia affairs. Spent the evening very agreeably with several Quakers. How much comfort do those lose who converse with none but such as are of their own communion!

"Tuesday, May 15. Preached this evening at Kennington. Notwithstanding the rain, the people stood very attentive.

"Wednesday, May 16. Sent a Quaker to be baptized by my dear brother, Mr. Stonehouse. Waited upon the honourable trustees, who still treated me with the utmost civility. Dined with some serious Quakers, and preached at Kennington, and have reason to bless God, more and more, for the order and devotion of those that come to hear the word.[210]

"Thursday, May 17. Preached, after several invitations thither, at Hampstead Heath, about five miles from London. The audience was of the politer sort. Most were attentive, but some mocked.

"Friday, May 18. Dined with several of the Moravian Church, and could not avoid admiring their great simplicity, and deep experience in the inward life. At six, I preached in a very large open place in Shadwell, being much pressed by many to go thither. I believe there were upwards of twenty thousand people. At first, through the greatness of the throng, there was a little hurry; but afterwards all was hushed and silent. Near £20 was collected for the Orphan House. Received an excellent letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine, a field-preacher of the Scots Church, a noble soldier of the Lord Jesus Christ.

"Saturday, May 19. Dined at Clapham with a Quaker. Preached in the evening at Kennington Common, to about fifteen thousand people, who were very attentive and affected.[211] Afterwards, I spent two hours at Fetter Lane Society, where we had a most useful conference concerning the necessity of every Christian to have some particular calling, whereby he may be a useful member of the society to which he belongs. We all agreed to this. For my own part, I think if a man will not labour, neither ought he to eat. To be so intent on pursuing the one thing needful, as to neglect providing for those of our own households, is to be righteous over-much.

"Sunday, May 20. Went with our brethren of Fetter Lane Society to St. Paul's, and received the holy sacrament, as a testimony that we adhered to the Church of England. Preached at Moorfields[212] and Kennington Common, and, at both places, collected near £50 for the Orphan House. A visible alteration is made in the behaviour of the people; for, though there were near fifteen thousand in the morning, and double the number in the afternoon, they were as quiet as though there had not been above fifty persons present. I did not meet with a moment's interruption. I could say of the assembly, as Jacob did on another occasion, 'Surely God is in this place.'"

On Monday, May 21st, Whitefield set out on a short preaching excursion into the three counties of Hertford, Buckingham, and Northampton; but, before following him, it may be useful to pause, and to ponder these marvellous extracts from the young preacher's Journal. Are they not unique? Is there any other man, except Whitefield, whose diary, for nineteen consecutive days, contains a series of statements like the foregoing? There can be little doubt that Whitefield was always in danger of over-estimating the number of his hearers. It is one of the peculiarities of his Journal and letters to say there were nearly a certain number, rather than to say there were more than a lower number. But, after making ample deductions on this account, the crowds attending his ministry were enormous. Dr. Trapp, during these three weeks, was doing his utmost, in his three metropolitan churches, to bring upon Whitefield the ridicule and contempt of the London populace; but his priestly effort was a failure. The more Trapp denounced the preacher, the greater were the congregations that ran to hear him. Dr. Trapp was vigorously assisted by Dr. Hooker, the conductor of the Weekly Miscellany, which was then the principal newspaper of the Church of England. On May 5th, one of its columns was filled with "Queries to Mr. Whitefield," concerning "Principles, Doctrines, Articles of Faith, Motives, and Extraordinary Light," full of banter and ridicule. On May 12, nearly two pages of the comparatively small newspaper were used in denouncing Whitefield and his proceedings. Speaking of Whitefield, it says:—

"Immediately after his ordination to the priesthood; without a license from any bishop; contrary to all the rules of the Christian Church; contrary to the canons and constitutions of our own Church, which so lately gave him his orders; contrary to the laws of the land,—he goes strolling about the kingdom, shewing the greatest contempt for our excellent liturgy, and all forms of prayer, and using extemporary effusions; preaching doctrines different from those which he subscribed before the bishop, with an unparalleled degree of vanity and vainglory; extolling himself, and, with the most unchristian spirit of censoriousness, undervaluing and blaming the established clergy."

In reference to the immense congregations daily assembled on Kennington Common, the same article remarks:—

"If Whitefield and the Wesleys are permitted to hold their conventicles at pleasure, and to ramble up and down, singing psalms, and preaching in the open streets, or in the more open fields, wanton curiosity will carry thousands to hear them; hundreds of the ignorant multitude will innocently be corrupted; and the preachers' vanity and enthusiasm, if possible, will be still more inflamed by a fond imagination that their hearers are all admirers, whereas most of them would as eagerly attend any other monster equally as strange as that of a clergyman preaching in a gown and cassock on a common."

On May 26, nearly two pages of the same newspaper were again filled with virulent abuse of Whitefield. The following is an extract:—

"I am told that this unfortunate young man is forced upon this method of preaching. Hard, indeed, if it be so; but I take it to be much harder upon us that we must be forced to answer such impertinence. Have the bishops, from whom alone he ought to take directions, commanded him to turn mountebank? Is he compelled by military force, or by the violence of the people, to mount the stage? On the contrary, does he not put out bills in the daily papers, and invite people to assemble together contrary to law? I know of no force but an internal one—an impetuous impulse, from a degree of pride and vanity that is equalled by nothing but his weakness and folly."

This turbid wrathfulness was far from pleasant; but it failed in its purpose to put an end to Whitefield's preaching in the open air, and equally failed in diminishing the number of Whitefield's hearers. No doubt his action was irregular; perhaps, also, in his impetuous zeal, he sometimes indulged in censorious remarks respecting the clergy of the Established Church. As yet he was not a Dissenter; but his open connection with the Moravian brotherhood in Fetter Lane, and his repeated interviews with Quakers, fairly exposed him to the reasonable suspicion of his enemies, that he had Dissenting proclivities. He himself seems to have seen and felt this, and hence the somewhat ostentatious sacramental attendance at St. Paul's on May 20th. All this must be conceded; and it must likewise be allowed, that one of Whitefield's besetting sins, or rather one of his infirmities, was an unconsciously indulged inflatedness of mind, which led him (innocently enough on his own part) to the employment of bombastic expressions, and to the utterance of sentiments often silly, sometimes fanatical, and generally such as a more prudent and worldly wise man would not have used. It would be idle, it would be dishonest, to deny that his published Journals abound in such-like faults, though they have not in the present work been quoted. But what then? Was it right, was it fair, to treat him with so much contempt and ridicule? His moral character was without a speck. His intellect and literary attainments, though not equal to those of his friend Wesley, made him immensely superior to scores and hundreds who were enjoying rich livings in the Established Church. He had no wish to share their ecclesiastical emoluments, but was quite content with his mongrel parish among the swamps of far-distant Georgia. It is true, he desired to have the use of some of their churches, to which he was not at all entitled; but he desired even this not for his own benefit, but rather that he might have the opportunity of proclaiming, trumpet-tongued, some of the forgotten truths of the word of God, and that he might collect a little money for the orphans in Georgia. The clergy had a perfect right to deny him the use of their churches. Perhaps, being so young a man, it was hardly modest for him to expect the privilege of using them; but, having no other place in which to preach, why should he not be allowed to preach in Kingswood, at Rose Green, on Hannam Mount, in Moorfields, on Kennington Common, and Hampstead Heath? His zeal in the cause of Christ, and his love for the souls of men, were not fictitious. They were divinely implanted principles, the results of a genuine conversion, and which ought not to be repressed. Wherever Whitefield met a man, he met a sinner redeemed by the sacrificial death of his Divine Redeemer. As yet he had not become a Calvinist. On Kennington Common, he felt no restraint in "offering Jesus Christ to all" the thousands there assembled. Christ had died for them. Whitefield longed to save them. Why should doctors of divinity, and the writers of anonymous articles in the Church of England newspaper, dare to hinder him?

Whitefield has mentioned his collections for the Orphan House in Georgia; and some, considering the hugeness of his congregations, may think them scarcely worth recording; but two other facts must be borne in mind. The age in which Whitefield lived was not one remarkable for its charitable contributions; and, further, money then was at least three or four times more valuable than money now. Multiply by such a number the amount of Whitefield's collections, and their comparison with some of the Methodist collections of the present day will not dishonour them.

It may reasonably be asked, what was there in this youthful evangelist to draw around him such prodigious congregations? His warmest friends must admit that he was far from being perfect. Not only Churchmen, but Dissenters, saw his faults. It is a curious fact, that Dr. Doddridge, in some respects the most distinguished Nonconformist of the age, was present at one of the Kennington Common meetings which have been already mentioned. In a letter dated "Epsom, May 24, 1739," he writes:—

"I saw Mr. Whitefield preaching on Kennington Common, last week, to an attentive multitude, and heard much of him at Bath; but, supposing him sincere and in good earnest, I still fancy that he is but a weak man,—much too positive, says rash things, and is bold and enthusiastic. I think, what he says and does comes but little short of an assumption of inspiration or infallibility."[213]

In this unfavourable opinion, Dr. Doddridge was not alone. Dr. Watts, the other great Dissenter then living, in a letter dated "August 15, 1739," wrote as follows:—

"I wish Mr. Whitefield would not have risen above any pretences to the ordinary influences of the Holy Spirit, unless he could have given some better evidences of it. He has acknowledged to me in conversation that he knows an impression on his mind to be divine, though he cannot give me any convincing proofs of it. I said many things to warn him of the danger of delusion, and to guard him against the irregularities and imprudences which youth and zeal might lead him into; and told him plainly that, though I believed him very sincere, and desirous to do good to souls, yet I was not convinced of any extraordinary call he had to some parts of his conduct. He seemed to take this free discourse in a very candid and modest manner."[214]

A witness of another kind may be introduced. Samuel Johnson was nearly of the same age as Whitefield. Both had been students in Pembroke College, Oxford. Johnson was fallible, faulty, and full of personal prejudices; but he was a man of great ability, and of unblemished truthfulness. He knew Whitefield, and was not unqualified to pronounce an opinion concerning him. That opinion must be judged by its own merits; but being expressed by a distinguished contemporary, it deserves attention. Boswell, Johnson's biographer, writes:—

"Of his fellow-collegian, the celebrated Mr. George Whitefield, he said: 'Whitefield's popularity is chiefly owing to the peculiarity of his manner. He would be followed by crowds, were he to wear a night-cap in the pulpit, or were he to preach from a tree."[215] "He never drew as much attention as a mountebank does; he did not draw attention by doing better than others, but by doing what was strange. Were Astley to preach a sermon standing upon his head on a horse's back, he would collect a multitude to hear him; but no wise man would say he made a better sermon for that. I never treated Whitefield's ministry with contempt: I believe he did good. He devoted himself to the lower classes of mankind, and among them he was of use. But when familiarity and noise claim the praise due to knowledge, art, and elegance, we must beat down such pretensions.'"[216]

Doubtless there is truth in Johnson's opinion, that, one reason why Whitefield had such crowds to hear him was because it was a perfect novelty to have a clergyman of the Church of England preaching, in gown and cassock, in the open air. It was a further novelty to see such a clergyman standing up to preach without reading the appointed liturgy of the Church, and using extemporaneous prayers in lieu of it. It is also probable that Whitefield created considerable sensation by employing language such as the clergy in their churches were not wont to use. All this may be conceded; and it might likewise be allowed, that, to a large extent, Dr. Trapp and the editor of the Weekly Miscellany defeated their own purposes, and that, by their virulent attempts to dishonour Whitefield, they helped to make him more popular. On the other hand, however, it must be borne in mind that opinions like those of Doddridge and Watts were widely entertained both by Churchmen and Dissenters, and that such a fact was not likely to contribute to the largeness of Whitefield's congregations. The reasons above assigned, for Whitefield's popularity, may be perfectly correct, but they are not complete; for to them must be added the following: (1) Whatever his faults might be, Whitefield was a natural orator of the highest order. (2) The truths which distinguished his preaching were truths exactly adapted to the wants and yearnings of human nature,—such as meet the necessities of human beings of all classes, in all lands, and belonging to all ages. (3) Speaking generally, these truths, until recently, had been forgotten, and were not preached in the churches and chapels of England. (4) Whitefield preached them with a fervour which shewed that he believed them. (5) Above all, in answer to the long-continued prayers of the Religious Societies, and by the sovereign grace of God, the Holy Ghost, the Comforter, was now moving the masses of the people, and making them anxious concerning their personal salvation; and, further, He was connecting with Whitefield's ministry a "power from on high," like that which distinguished the Apostles' ministry at Pentecost, and making it the means of turning men "from sin to holiness, and from the power of Satan unto God." Let the reader ponder such facts as these, and, perhaps, his wonder will cease at the tens of thousands who tramped from London to Kennington Common to hear the unpolished and imperfect sermons of this youthful Methodist, whose years had not yet reached twenty-five.

While Whitefield was preaching to his large congregations on Kennington Common and in Moorfields, Wesley was similarly employed at Bristol and Kingswood. It is a curious fact that, though Whitefield was forbidden to preach in Newgate Prison, Bristol, Wesley was admitted. Another notable incident must be mentioned. In Bristol and its neighbourhood, Wesley was daily witnessing the most remarkable conversions,—conversions accompanied by those mysterious convulsions that have perplexed all his biographers. In London, Whitefield had prodigious congregations, and his oratorical powers were far greater than those of his friend Wesley; but where were his conversions? His congregations were often powerfully affected; and, on May 12th, he speaks of "many" coming to him, and telling him "what God had done for their souls by his preaching in the fields;" but this, in substance, is all that he himself records. Perhaps this difference in ministerial results may be accounted for by the fact, that nearly the whole of the conversions under Wesley's ministry took place in the meetings of the Religious Societies, where united prayer was always joined to scriptural exposition. On the other hand, during this month of May, Whitefield devoted himself almost exclusively to the work of preaching to vast crowds in the open air, where private spiritual enquiries and united prayers for penitents were impracticable. Besides, at the first, Whitefield strongly objected to such conversions as his friend Wesley was witnessing; and plainly told him that, though he doubted not that God was in the work, yet he equally believed the devil was interposing. He wrote:—

"Were I to give so much encouragement to those convulsions as you have given, how many would cry out every night? I think it is tempting God to require such signs."[217]

Whitefield, however, was not without conversions; and two notable instances must be mentioned here.

Wesley, a few months before he died, said, "Joseph Humphreys was the first lay preacher that assisted me in England, in the year 1738."[218] Who was Joseph Humphreys? The following particulars are gleaned from a pamphlet of forty-four pages, published in 1742, and entitled, "An Account of Joseph Humphreys' Experience of the Work of Grace upon his Heart. Bristol: printed by Felix Farley."

Joseph Humphreys was born at Burford, in Oxfordshire, October 28, 1720, where his father, for nearly thirty years, was the minister of a Dissenting congregation. Joseph was educated at a grammar school at Fairford, in Gloucestershire. His father died in 1733; and being, says Joseph, "uncommonly zealous in his day both for faith and holiness, he was almost universally despised both by Church-people and Dissenters." After his father's death, Joseph was sent to a school in London, "where young men were trained for the ministry." At this early period of his life, he had determined to be a minister, and says, "I used to write sermons of my own composing, thundering exceedingly against all unrepenting sinners." "The pupils every evening took their turns in prayer;" and Joseph thought himself "highly blessed in having his lot cast with such pious, serious young men." He was soon shocked, however, by the fact "that these same young men indulged in light and foolish talking and jesting, playing at draughts, fives, blindman's buff, hunt the shoe, and such-like ludicrous games, quite unbecoming such as professed godliness." By degrees, Joseph grew to be as light-hearted as the rest, and, without confessing it, became an infidel. After indulging in a frightful excess of wickedness, he again began to be religious; and writes:—

"I was for joining the Papists, Church-people, and Dissenters of all denominations in one; I was for reconciling the Arians, Socinians, Arminians, and Calvinists altogether; I would have had them lay aside all disputable points, and harmonize in those things wherein they were all agreed. I liked those men who were for reducing the Christian Articles to a few; and if any one called the Pope Antichrist, I thought he was very ignorant and uncharitable."

In the year 1737, Joseph became a member of the Independent Church, in London, presided over by the Rev. Dr. Guyse; but was still unconverted. Notwithstanding this, however, on June 18, 1738, he began to preach. Six months afterwards, Whitefield returned to England, and Humphreys writes:—

"About this time there was great talk of Mr. Whitefield; and, accordingly, on May 2, 1739, I went to hear him on Kennington Common. I liked him, because he so affectionately invited poor guilty sinners to come to Jesus Christ by faith. I afterwards heard him several times. I felt the power of the Lord to be with him; and was much affected to see the seriousness and tears of many in the congregations. The flocking of the multitudes to hear the word made me think and say, 'It was never so seen in Israel.' One evening, as I was coming home from hearing him, I wept exceedingly, thinking what a hearty, pious minister he was (though educated at such a wicked place as Oxford) in comparison of what any of us at our academy were like to be. I earnestly sought his acquaintance; and, accordingly, one evening I supped with him and Mr. Howell Harris, and several more brethren, at a public-house on Blackheath, just after his preaching to a most numerous congregation. The public-house seemed to be turned into a church; and to me it was like heaven upon earth. One Sabbath-day, I think it was June 3, as we were singing a hymn at the academy, I had such a taste of the dying love of Christ as I never had before. My heart was quite melted, and my eyes were a fountain of tears. When I came forth, one of the pupils asked me what was the matter with me? I told him I was happy. When another enquired the same, I signified that I felt more than I could express."

Humphreys was still a student in the Dissenting Academy (which had been removed to Deptford), and, though he was not nineteen years of age, yet, being intended for the ministry, he began, in the month of the ensuing August, to preach in "a large dancing room." He had crowded congregations, and soon formed a Religious Society consisting of a hundred and forty members. He writes:—

"I insisted chiefly upon a sinner's justification before God, through the Redeemer's merits; and shewed the nature, necessity, and blessedness of it. For this, I was soon violently opposed. I became the butt of the common people; I was singular in the school; was threatened by my tutor; dropped by most of my old friends; deemed beside myself by some; and at last, December 25, 1739, was expelled the academy, for no other crime but this."

For about a year, Humphreys found a refuge in the academy of Mr. J. Eames, in Moorfields; and, while pursuing his studies, ministered to the Religious Societies of Deptford, Greenwich, and Ratcliffe. The clergy preached against him; and two pamphlets were published, which, says he, "were not worth reading, much less answering."

"The rude mob," he writes, "treated both me and the people most roughly; haling us about, throwing us upon the ground, beating us, and pelting us with stones or brickbats, rotten eggs, apples, dung, and fireworks. Officers sent their men to press me. I was hooted at along the streets; spit upon; called names; threatened, reviled, and belied; hated of all, and counted the filth of the world, and the offscouring of all things. I was frequently in danger, not only of having my eyes, but also my brains, beat out by the large flints that were continually thrown upon the roof of the barn where I preached."

Often while young Humphreys was preaching, numbers of his hearers were thrown into convulsions similar to those which occurred under Wesley's ministry at Bristol. Humphreys writes:—

"Their bodies were strangely agitated; their bones would sometimes seem to be out of joint; their breasts would heave prodigiously; some would bite, tear, and beat themselves, and do mischief to others also, unless they were forcibly held down; and some would roar hideously, crying out that the devil was coming to fetch them, or to torment them. That it was no feigned thing, at least in most of them, is most certain. That it was occasioned in some by sympathy, I will not deny; but I do really believe that in others it was occasioned by a discovery of their undone condition; and was followed by true conversion to the Lord. I own that the cases of some who were thus affected was so unaccountable, to this day, I am at a stand to determine how or what it was. For what I know, they might be torn by the devil. God might suffer Satan to be let loose upon them for a season; generally, however, it was so awful, that the beholders durst not make game of it. I only relate matters of fact; and do not pretend to say that all were renewed or converted who were thus affected, for I believe no such thing, but the contrary. Neither could I ever look upon these things as signs from heaven for the establishment or confirmation of any particular doctrine. I rather think the case was often this: the word of God would come with a convincing light and power into the consciences of sinners, whereby they were so far awakened, as to be seized with dreadful terrors. The rebellion of their natures would be raised; the peace of the strong man armed would be disturbed; hell within would begin to roar; the devil, that before, being unmolested, lay quiet in their hearts, would now be stirred up, and be most outrageously angry, because of this convincing light and power of the word. Hence, I believe, proceeded some of these agonies of body. And all this might be, and perhaps frequently was, without any real change of heart; for I depend upon no such things as proofs of a person's conversion to God. Rather let this be made manifest by the fruits of righteousness, in all gracious tempers and conversation, with perseverance therein unto the end.

"September 1, 1740. I began to preach at the Foundery in London, to Mr. Wesley's congregation, and many a powerful opportunity there was. In the private society also we had many sweet meetings. At this time, I had a very great intimacy with the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. We were together almost continually night and day. There were many things very exemplary in him—worthy, indeed, of every minister's and every Christian's imitation. But, on account of some important doctrines of grace wherein we differed, I was obliged, on April 25, 1741, to separate from him.

Space forbids further details respecting Joseph Humphreys. Suffice it to say that, in the month of May, 1741, he joined himself to Whitefield, and acted as one of his itinerant preachers. Such he was in the twenty-first year of his age. In the pamphlet, from which these facts are taken, he declares himself a Dissenter. In some respects, he was a remarkable man; and the reader will meet with him again. The following is Wesley's summary of his life:—

"1790. September 9. I read over the experience of Joseph Humphreys, the first lay teacher that assisted me in England, in the year 1738. From his own mouth, I learn that he was perfected in love, and so continued for at least a twelvemonth. Afterwards, he turned Calvinist, and joined Mr. Whitefield, and published an invective against my brother and me in the newspaper. In a while, he renounced Mr. Whitefield, and was ordained a Presbyterian minister. At last he received Episcopal ordination. He then scoffed at inward religion, and when reminded of his own experience, replied, 'That was one of the foolish things which I wrote in the time of my madness.'"

At the risk of wearying the reader, another of Whitefield's converts, belonging to this period, must be introduced.

Joseph Periam was the son of respectable parents, who appear to have resided at Bethnal Green. Joseph had been articled to an attorney, and intended to devote himself to the legal profession. He read Whitefield's sermon on the New Birth, and was converted. The change in him was so great, that his father and friends thought him mad. The "symptoms" or proofs of his madness were three. 1. He had fasted for a fortnight. 2. He had prayed loud enough to be heard all over a house four storeys high. 3. He had sold his clothes and given the money to the poor. The first of these allegations was probably a fact exaggerated. The second, in all likelihood, was perfectly correct. The third also was literally true; for, says Whitefield,—

"Joseph ingenuously confessed to me, that, under his first awakenings, he was one day reading the story of the young man whom our Lord commanded to sell all he had, and to give to the poor, and, thinking it must be taken in the literal sense, out of love, to Jesus Christ, he sold his clothes, and gave the money to the poor."

For such reasons, Joseph Periam was put into the general receptacle of all London lunatics—Bethlehem Hospital; an old edifice founded in 1547, and standing in St. George's Fields, Lambeth. The institution was a disgrace to all connected with it. The miserable inmates were treated most brutally. Their terrible affliction was turned into pecuniary profit, and the hospital received about £400 a year, in the form of fees, collected by exhibiting the poor maniacs, chiefly naked, and uniformly chained to the walls of their respective dungeons. The practice of entertaining the outside public by thus shewing the inside patients of this infernal prison house was not abolished until the year 1770; and, even then, the abolition was unaccompanied by any other improvement of the usage of the unhappy sufferers.[219] If men were not mad when they entered, there was enough to make them mad before they left.

Joseph Periam became the occupant of No. 50 in this dismal dungeon, miscalled an hospital. "His room," says Whitefield, "was a cold place, without windows, and had a damp cellar under it." On entering, Joseph's first refection was a dose of physic. Whitefield writes:—

'Being sensible that he wanted no physic, Joseph was unwilling at first to take it; upon which four or five men took hold of him, cursed him most heartily, put a key into his mouth, threw him upon the bed, and said, 'You are one of Whitefield's gang,' and so drenched him."

Poor Periam wrote to Whitefield as follows:—

"Bethlehem Hospital, No. 50.

"Dear Sir,—I have read your sermon on the New Birth, and hope I shall always have a due sense of my dear Redeemer's goodness to me. May Almighty God bless and preserve you, and prosper your ministerial function! I wish, sir, I could have some explanatory notes upon the New Testament, to enlighten the darkness of my understanding, to make me capable of becoming a good soldier of Jesus Christ; but, above all, I should like to see you.

"I am, dear Sir, yours affectionately with my whole heart,
"Joseph Periam."

Whitefield writes:—

"According to his request, I paid him a visit, and found him in perfect health both in body and mind."

On the 5th of May, 1739, in the midst of his marvellous services on Kennington Common, Whitefield received another letter from Periam, stating that he was "surrounded with nothing but profaneness and wickedness;" that he had to go into his "cell at seven or eight o'clock at night, and was not let out till six or seven in the morning;" and that, being "debarred the use of candles, and consequently books, all that time, except what was spent in prayer and meditation, was lost; and though these exercises were good, yet by constant repetition, and for want of change, they were deadened." He also asked whether his objections to being thus "imprisoned were inconsistent or wicked, and whether he might not, without offence to God, make use of endeavours to be discharged?" He likewise wished to know whether, being discharged, he might, "without offence to the gospel of Jesus Christ, follow the business of an attorney?" And, finally, the poor fellow asked, "If I cannot be discharged by proper application, how can I best spend my time to the glory of God and my own and my brethren's welfare?"

To this lengthened letter, Whitefield sent the following reply:—

"May 7, 1739.

"Dear Sir,—The way to salvation is by Jesus Christ, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The way to Christ is by faith. 'Whosoever liveth and believeth in me,' says our Lord, 'though he were dead, yet shall he live.' But this faith, if it is saving faith, will work by love. Come, then, to Jesus Christ as a poor sinner, and He will make you a rich saint. This, I think, serves as an answer to your first query.

"It is, no doubt, your duty, whilst you are in the house, to submit to the rules of it; but, then, you may use all lawful means to get yourself out. I have just now been with your sister, and will see what can be done further. Watch and pray.

"As for the business of an attorney, I think it unlawful for a Christian; at least, exceeding dangerous. Avoid it, therefore, and glorify God in some other station.

"I am, dear Sir, your affectionate friend and servant,
"George Whitefield."

On May 9, Periam wrote again to Whitefield as follows:—

"My father was with me last night, when I shewed him your letter. I told him, I utterly renounced the business, of an attorney. He then asked me what profession I chose; which I submitted to him, on condition it might prove agreeable to the will of God. He was pleased to say, he thought me not mad, but very well in my senses, and would take me out, if Doctor Monro and the committee were of his opinion. Then he varied again, and thought it convenient for me to stay the summer, and to take physic twice a week, fearing a relapse. I told him, as a father, he should be obeyed; but when, at parting, he mentioned my leaving religion, I was somewhat stirred in my spirit, and told him nothing should prevail upon me to leave Jesus Christ.

"This is the substance of what passed between us. Upon the whole matter, sir, God gives me perfect resignation, and, I trust, when He shall see fit, will discharge me. I find His love daily more and more shed abroad in my heart. All things will work together for my good. If opportunity will let you, I should be glad to see you before you set out for America. May Almighty God, in His infinite goodness, prosper, guide, and protect you through this transitory life, and hereafter receive you triumphantly into the heavenly Jerusalem, there to converse with, and see the ever-blessed Jesus!"

Your loving and sincere friend,
"Joseph Periam."

"Upon reading this," says Whitefield, "I was sensibly touched with a fellow-feeling of his misery; and, at my request, Mr. Seward and two more friends waited upon the committee. But, alas! they esteemed my friends as much mad as the young man, and frankly told them, both I and my followers were insane. My friend Seward urged the examples of the young persons, who called the prophet, that was sent to anoint Jehu king, a mad fellow; of our Lord, whom His own relations, and the scribes and Pharisees, took to be mad; and of Festus's opinion of St. Paul. He further urged, that, when young people were under their first awakenings, they were usually tempted by the devil to run into some extremes. In the midst of the conference, the committee mentioned Periam's going to Georgia, and said, if I would take him with me, they would engage that his father should give leave to have him released. A day or two after, Mr. Seward waited upon his father, who gave his son an excellent character, and consented to his going abroad. After this, he waited upon the doctor, who pronounced him well; and, on May 19th, he waited again upon the committee, who behaved very civilly, and gave the young man a discharge. He is now with me, and I hope he will be an instrument of doing good. The hardships he has endured at Bethlehem will, I hope, prepare him for what he must undergo abroad."

Thus was Joseph Periam put into an execrable madhouse; and thus was he taken out. It is not necessary to trace his subsequent career; and this apparently long digression will be pardoned, when it is remembered that, at the time, Periam's case caused great excitement, and that it occupied a prominent position in a hostile pamphlet, of ninety-six pages, entitled "The Life of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, by an Impartial Hand."

It is time to return to Whitefield in London. In the midst of his unequalled popularity, he wrote to his friend Harris, of Gloucester, as follows:—

"London, May 10, 1739.

"Dear Mr. Harris,—The hour for my imprisonment is not yet come. I am not fit as yet to be so highly honoured. God only knows the treachery of my heart; but, amidst all my late success, I have scarce felt one self-complacent thought. I speak this to the honour of God's free grace.

"In about three weeks, God willing, we embark for Pennsylvania. The trustees have granted to me land, and everything upon my own terms. The officers and general are exceeding kind to my friend Habersham, upon my account, so that all things succeed beyond my expectations.

"Ever, ever yours,
"George Whitefield."

Whitefield's expectation of sailing so soon was not realized. On May 21, he left London, and reached Hertford, between eight and nine o'clock at night. His fame had gone before him, and, late as was the hour, he preached, on a common near the town, to four or five thousand hearers. Next morning, he preached in the same place, to nearly as large a congregation; then he breakfasted with a Dissenting minister; and then proceeded to Olney, where he arrived about ten p.m. Being denied the use of the church pulpit, he, on the day following, "preached in a field, near the town, to about two thousand people." At five in the evening, he reached Northampton, and "was most courteously received by Doctor Doddrige," the famous Dissenting minister; and, "at seven, according to appointment, preached, on a common, to about three thousand hearers." On Thursday, May 24, he "preached again in the same place, at about eight in the morning, but to a much larger audience." He then hastened back to Olney, and, in the midst of an incessant rain, preached "upon an eminence in the street." At seven in the evening, he got to Bedford, and says, "I found the town fully alarmed. About eight, I preached from the stairs of a windmill (the pulpit of my dear brother and fellow-labourer, Mr. Rogers),[220] to about three thousand people. Friday, May 25, preached at seven in the morning to rather a larger congregation than before. Reached Hitchin about one o'clock; and, at two, got upon a table in the market-place, near the church; but some were pleased to ring the bells in order to disturb us. Upon this, we removed into the fields; but, the sun beating intensely on my head, I became exceedingly sick, and was obliged, in a short time, to break off. I lay down for about two hours, and then came and preached near the same place, and God was with us. It was surprising to see how the hearts of the people were knit to me. I could have continued longer with them; but, being under an engagement to go to St. Albans, I hastened thither, but could not preach on account of my coming in so late. Great numbers had been there expecting me; and it grieved me to think how little I could do for Christ." The people of St. Albans, however, were not wholly disappointed; for, at seven next morning, he preached, in a field, to about fifteen hundred people; and then "got safe to London by two in the afternoon." In the evening of the same day, his congregation on Kennington Common numbered "about fifteen thousand."

Thus did Whitefield spend the six days between Sunday, May 20, and Sunday, May 27. The toil of travelling was not a trifle; but, besides this, a dozen sermons were delivered, and all in the open air. Whitefield writes:—

"Blessed be God! this has been a week of fat things: many sinners convicted; and many saints much comforted, and established in their most holy faith. I find there are some thousands of secret ones yet living amongst us, who have not bowed the knee to Baal; and this public way of acting brings them out. It much comforts me, wherever I go, to see so many of God's children, of all communions, come and wish me good luck in the name of the Lord. I perceive the people would be everywhere willing to hear, if the ministers were ready to teach them the truth as it is in Jesus. Lord, do Thou spirit up more of my dear friends and fellow-labourers to go out into the highways and hedges, to compel poor sinners to come in! Amen!"

The Weekly Miscellany—the recognized newspaper of the Church of England—could not allow even this brief country excursion to pass unnoticed. On June 2, it had a short article to the following effect:—

"On Tuesday last week, Mr. Whitefield called at Hitchin, on his way to Bedford, and, at the desire of several Dissenters, was prevailed on to return there on Friday last, at which time several hundred Dissenters of that parish, and the neighbouring Dissenters, attended him; but, being denied the use of the church, he mounted a table in the market-place, on which the bells were set a-ringing. He afterwards returned to the place of execution, and, according to his usual method, sung a psalm, and began to harangue his auditors from, 'We would see Jesus;' but, being overcharged——, he was obliged to break off abruptly."

There can be no doubt, that, not only at Hitchin, but throughout the whole of this week's tour, the Dissenters were Whitefield's chief auditors; but the sneer at the end of the extract just given, was a foul and filthy falsehood, altogether unworthy of the Church of England's chief newspaper.

Being returned to London, Whitefield resumed his field-preaching with as much zest as ever. On Sunday morning, May 27, he preached, for nearly two hours, "to about twenty thousand at Moorfields." During the day, he "went twice to public worship, and received the blessed sacrament." In the evening, at Kennington Common, he addressed a congregation of thirty thousand.

The following are extracts from his Journal:—

"Monday, May 28. Preached, after earnest and frequent invitation, at Hackney, in a field belonging to Mr. Rudge, to about ten thousand hearers. I insisted much upon the reasonableness of the doctrine of the new birth, and the necessity of our receiving the Holy Ghost, in His sanctifying gifts and graces, as well now as formerly; and I could not help exposing the impiety of those letter-learned teachers, who say, we are not now to receive the Holy Ghost, and who count the doctrine of the new birth, enthusiasm. Out of your own mouths will I condemn you, you wicked blind guides. Did you not, at the time of ordination, tell the bishop, that you were inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon you the administration of the Church? Surely, at that time, you acted the crime of Ananias and Sapphira over again. You lied, not unto man, but, unto God."

Thus did Whitefield openly attack the clergy of his own Church; for the Journal containing this was immediately published, and, before the end of the year 1739, passed through three editions. No wonder that there were clerical replies of an angry sort. It was unwise, for so young a man, to make such assaults; and, in many instances, the castigations he received were not unmerited. His business was not to annoy and irritate the clergy; but to preach forgotten truths, and to convert sinners.

"Tuesday, May 29. Went to public service at Westminster Abbey. Afterwards despatched business for my orphans, and preached, at Kennington, to a most devout auditory, with much sweetness and power.

"Wednesday, May 30. Waited upon the Bishop of Bristol,[221] (who treated me with the utmost civility,) and received his lordship's benefaction for Georgia. At the request of many, I preached, in the evening, at Newington Common, to about fifteen thousand people. The word came with power; and, seeing a great multitude, I thought proper to collect for the Orphan House; and £16 9s. 4d. were gathered on that occasion.

"Thursday, May 31. I preached at Kennington, to my usual congregation; and three of my brethren in the ministry were pleased to accompany me, which filled the people with exceeding great joy.

"Friday, June 1. Dined at Old Ford, and gave a short exhortation to a few people in a field. In the evening, preached at a place called Mayfair, near Hyde Park Corner. The congregation, I believe, consisted of near eighty thousand people. It was, by far, the largest I ever preached to yet. In the time of my prayer, there was a little noise; but they kept a deep silence during my whole discourse. A high and very commodious scaffold was erected for me to stand upon; and God strengthened me to speak so loud, that most could hear, and so powerfully, that most, I believe, could feel. All love, all glory be to God through Christ!

"Saturday, June 2. Sent another Quaker to be baptized by Mr. Stonehouse. Collected, by private contributions, nearly £50 for the orphans. In the evening, preached at Hackney to about ten thousand; and £20 12s. 4d. were gathered for the same objects.

"Sunday, June 3. Preached at Moorfields to a larger congregation than ever, and collected £29 17s. 9d. for the Orphan House. Went twice to public worship, and received the sacrament. Preached in the evening at Kennington Common, to the most numerous audience I ever yet saw in that place, and collected £34 5s."[222]

This, for the present, was Whitefield's farewell sermon on Kennington Common. During the last five weeks, he had preached twenty-one times in this open-air cathedral; the crowds who had flocked to hear him were marvellous; upon the whole there had been no disturbances worth mentioning; God had abundantly blessed the young preachers' labours; and the services throughout had astonished, not only Whitefield, but likewise Whitefield's friends and enemies. The scene, when, on June 3, he took his leave of this memorable spot, was profoundly affecting. He writes:—

"When I mentioned my departure from them, the people were melted into tears. Thousands of ejaculations and fervent prayers were poured out to God on my behalf, which gave me abundant reason to be thankful to my dear Master. O what marvellous great kindness has God shewn me in this great city! Indeed, I have seen the kingdom of God come with power."

At this point, Whitefield concluded his "Journal from his Arrival at London to his Departure from thence on his way to Georgia." This, as already stated, was immediately published. All the important facts in it have been narrated. Many juvenile reflections on passing occurrences, and imprudent remarks respecting himself, have been omitted. They were perfectly artless, and in an unpublished journal would have been innocent. It is difficult to determine whether Whitefield did right or wrong by giving his Journals to the public. No doubt, they were read with the utmost avidity by his friends; and it can hardly be questioned that they were, in many instances, the means of arousing slumbering piety. They are also of essential service to Whitefield's biographers, and no adequate life of the great preacher can be written without a liberal use of them. On the other hand, however, they created enormous prejudices against the Methodists in general, and, as will soon be seen, brought upon Whitefield in particular an amount of personal abuse almost without parallel.

Before leaving the subject, it must be added that Whitefield's two Journals of his "Voyage from London to Savannah in Georgia," extending from December 28, 1737, to May 7, 1738, were printed by his injudicious friends, without his knowledge, in 1738. During the year 1739, three other Journals were published by himself. 1. The "Journal from his Arrival at Savannah to his Return to London." (8vo. 38 pp.) 2. His "Journal from his Arrival at London to his Departure from thence on his Way to Georgia." (8vo. 115 pp.) In both instances the printer was James Hutton, the Moravian. The title of the last mentioned, however, is not correct, for (through no fault of his) Whitefield did not embark for Georgia until ten weeks after he preached his farewell sermon on Kennington Common. Hence, 3. During the same year, appeared the following: "A Continuation of the Reverend Mr. Whitefield's Journal during the Time he was detained in England by the Embargo." (8vo. 40 pp.) This extended from June 4 to August 3, 1739; and from it and from other sources of information the following facts are gleaned.

It has been already stated that Dr. Trapp's "fourth and last Sermon against Mr. Whitefield and the Methodists," was preached on Sunday, May 20. Soon after this, Whitefield published the following: "A Preservative against unsettled Notions, and want of Principles, in regard to Righteousness and Christian Perfection. An explanatory Sermon on that mistaken text, 'Be not righteous over-much, neither make thyself over-wise: why shouldest thou destroy thyself?' Being a more particular Answer to Dr. Trapp's four Sermons upon the same text than have yet been published. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for G. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 33 pp.)

In all respects, this was an unwise publication. Prefixed to it is a somewhat egotistic and ostentatious address, "To all the true members of Christ's holy Church," in which Whitefield says:—

"As the whole of this great nation seems now more than ever in danger of being hurried into one or other of these equally pernicious extremes—irreligion or fanaticism—I thought myself more than ordinarily obliged to rouse your, perhaps, drowsy vigilance, by warning you of the nearness of your peril. Take the friendly caution I give you in good part, and endeavour to profit by it. Be mindless of me, and attend wholly to the saving truths I here deliver to you from the mouth of God Himself. Of this only be persuaded, that they are uttered by one who has your eternal salvation as much at heart as his own."

The chief faults, however, of this sermonic pamphlet are its pious, but personal abuse of Dr. Trapp. The minister of the four churches of St. Leonard's, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, Christ Church, and Harlington, merited rebuke; but Whitefield's epithets and strictures were of greater service to Dr. Trapp than to the man who wrote them. With all his faults, Dr. Trapp was a distinguished man. At different periods of his life, he had been Fellow of Wadham College, Oxford; in the same college he had been appointed to the first Birkhead professorship of poetry; he had filled the office of chaplain to Sir Constantine Phipps, Lord Chancellor of Ireland; and he had published several poetical and other works, of one of which the University of Oxford had marked their approval, by conferring upon him the degree of D.D. Further, he was now in his sixtieth year, and therefore much more than twice the age of Whitefield. His attack on young Whitefield had been fierce, almost savage; Whitefield's retaliatory attack was what? The reader must judge for himself. Whitefield writes:—

"This earthly-minded minister of a new gospel has taken a text which seems to favour his naughty purpose of weaning the well-disposed little ones of Christ from that perfect purity of heart and spirit which is necessary to all such as mean to live in our Lord Jesus. O Lord, what shall become of the flock when their shepherds betray them into the hands of the ravenous wolf! when a minister of Thy word perverts it to overthrow Thy kingdom, and to destroy Scripture with Scripture! Solomon, in the person of a desponding, ignorant, indolent liver, says to the man of righteousness: 'Be not righteous over-much, neither make thyself over-wise. Why shouldest thou destroy thyself?' But must my poor, angry, over-sighted brother Trapp, therefore, personate a character so unbecoming his function, merely to overthrow the express injunction of the Lord to us, which obliges us never to give over pursuing and thirsting after the perfect righteousness of Christ till we rest in Him? Father, forgive him, for he knows not what he says! Oh, what advantage might not Satan gain over the elect, if the false construction put upon this text by that unseeing teacher should prevail! Yet though he blushes not to assist Satan to bruise our heel, I shall endeavour to bruise the heads of both, by shewing the genuine sense of the text in question."

Having given what he conceives to be "the genuine sense," Whitefield proceeds:—

"This is the true, genuine sense of the text, and every other sense put upon it is false and groundless, and wrested rather to pervert than to explain the truth. O Christian simplicity, whither art thou fled? Why will not the clergy speak the truth? And why must this false prophet suffer thy people to believe a lie, because they have held the truth in unrighteousness? Raise up, I beseech Thee, O Lord, some true pastors, who may acquaint them with the nature and necessity of perfect righteousness, and lead them to that love of Christian perfection which the angry-minded, pleasure-taking Dr. Trapp labours to divert them from, by teaching that 'all Christians must have to do with some vanities.' Lord, open his eyes, and touch his heart, and convert him, and all those erring ministers who 'have seen vain and foolish things for Thy people, and have not discovered their iniquity to turn away their captivity.' For 'they have erred through wine, and through strong drink are out of the way; the priest and the prophet have erred through strong drink, they are swallowed up of wine, they are out of the way through strong drink, they err in vision, they stumble in judgment.'"

"It is not surprising to see a man of this cast of mind making a vain ostentation of his little superficial acquaintance with the ancient Greeks and Romans. What is this but acting conformably to his principle, that all Christians must have to do with some vanities? And shall we wonder to hear such an one prefer their writings, to those of an apostle; or be astonished to see him wound the apostle with raillery for wishing to 'know nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified'? No; with him it is consistency to laugh and reprove you out of the perfection of righteousness, which, however he may play with terms, is with him the same as being righteous over-much. What will not men advance who are drunk with passion, and intoxicated with self-love! To such lengths does the love of the world hurry these self-fond, merry-making worldlings. What wonder is it that lovers and strugglers after the perfect righteousness of Christ should be charged with enthusiasm, with folly, with fanaticism and madness? Can you be amazed at it, in an age 'when all manner of vice abounds to a degree almost unheard of'? when 'the land is full of adulterers,' and when, 'because of swearing, the land mourneth'? Oh, how is the faithful city become a harlot! Oh, how 'my heart within me is broken!' Because of the clergy, 'all my bones shake! I am like a drunken man, and like a man whom wine hath overcome; because of the Lord, and because of the words of His holiness,' perverted by this deluded clergyman. When the clergy become teachers of worldly maxims, what can be expected from the laity?"

"Such is the language which the indolent, earthly-minded, pleasure-taking clergy of the Church of England use to strengthen the hands of evil-doers. Such is the doctrine of the letter-learned divine, who has dipped his pen in gall to decry perfect righteousness. But suffer not yourselves to be deluded by him. As I have already shewn you, he is grossly (Lord, grant he was not maliciously!) mistaken in his manner of explaining this text. He acts the character of a vain libertine, full of self-love and earthly desires. May I not—yea, must I not—warn you, that this man is an enemy to perfect righteousness in men through Christ Jesus, and therefore no friend to Christ? Oh that my head were an ocean, and my eyes fountains of tears, to weep night and day for this poor creature, this hoodwinked member of the clergy!"

This is quite enough. It is a painful task to adduce such extracts; but it would not be honest to withhold them. Whitefield's impetuous character, and the immense number and extreme violence of the publications against him and against the Methodists in general, cannot be understood without them. Whitefield's "Answer to Dr. Trapp's Four Sermons" was unworthy of him. It was an outburst of petulant irritation, all the more offensive because arrayed in the garb of piety. It did no good either to Whitefield or the cause of Christ. It, and similar attacks, to be noticed shortly, brought upon him and his fellow-Methodists an enormous amount of personal abuse. No doubt, many of the clergy of the Church of England were "indolent, earthly-minded, and pleasure-taking;" but this was not the way to mend them. Whitefield's mission was not to rail against the clergy, but to convert sinners. The only excuses that can be made for him are, that he was young; that he was naturally impetuous and imprudent; that he had been greatly irritated; and that, perhaps, he was somewhat thrown off his balance by the unequalled popularity to which he had attained.

Having taken a formal leave of his congregations on Kennington Common, Whitefield, on June 4, proceeded to Blackheath. He writes: There was nearly as large a congregation as there was at Kennington yesterday. My discourse was nearly two hours long, and the people were so melted down, and wept so loud, that they almost drowned my voice. I could not but cry out, 'Come, ye Pharisees, come and see the Lord Jesus getting Himself the victory.'"

Next morning, Whitefield preached on Bexley Common, "to about three hundred people; and, in the evening, near Woolwich, to several thousands;" and spent the night with Mr. Delamotte, of Blendon.

On June 6, he did what he had not been allowed to do for some time past,—read prayers, and preached in two churches; in the morning, at Bexley, by invitation of the vicar, the Rev. Henry Piers; and in the evening, in a church adjoining Gravesend. "I have no objection," he writes, "against the excellent Liturgy of our Church, but highly approve of it, if ministers would lend me their churches to use it in. If not, let them blame themselves, that I pray and preach in the fields."

During these three days spent at Blackheath, Blendon, Bexley, and Gravesend, Whitefield was accompanied by Charles Wesley, who says:—

"Monday, June 4. I stood by G. Whitefield while he preached on the mount in Blackheath. The cries of the wounded were heard on every side. What has Satan gained by turning him out of the churches?

"Tuesday, June 5. I was with him at Blendon. Bowers and Bray" (two prominent Moravians) "followed us thither, drunk with the spirit of delusion. George honestly said, 'They were two grand enthusiasts.'

"Wednesday, June 6. Above sixty of the poor people had passed the night in Mr. Delamotte's barn, singing and rejoicing. I sang and prayed with them before the door. George's exhortations left them all in tears."

These were strange scenes, but want of space forbids comment.

Charles Wesley returned to London, and had a tussle with the Moravians. Two men, John Shaw and William Fish, were insolently zealous. "Shaw pleaded for his spirit of prophecy;" and accused Charles "with love of preeminence," and "with making proselytes twofold more children of the devil than before." Fish said Charles was delivered over unto Satan; and both he and Shaw declared themselves no longer members of the Church of England. Charles was also greatly annoyed by a mad prophetess, who had sprung up among the brethren. Whitefield heard of all this, and wrote as follows to the London Moravians:—

"Blendon, June 12, 1739.

"My dear Brethren in Christ,—I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy. I find more and more that Satan has desired to have some of you in particular, that he may sift you as wheat, and, if possible, divide and separate you all. I hear there is a woman among you, who pretends to the spirit of prophecy; and, what is more unaccountable, I hear that Brother B—— (Bray?) seems to approve of her. You have great need, therefore, to try the spirits, whether they be of God. The devil is beginning to mimic God's work, and is now transforming himself into an angel of light, in order more effectually to gain his point. I cannot but think that Brother —— is at present under a spirit of delusion. He, as well as Brother ——, I believe, imagines there will be a power given to work miracles, and that now Christ is coming to reign a thousand years upon the earth. But what need is there of miracles, such as healing sick bodies, when we see greater miracles every day done by the power of God's Word? Why should we tempt God in requiring further signs? As for our Lord's coming at this time to reign upon the earth, I answer, 'It is not for us to know the times and seasons, which the Father hath put in His own power.' That a great work is begun is evident; that it will be carried on, I doubt not; but how it will end, I know not, neither do I desire to know. It is sufficient for me to do the work of the day in its day, and to rest satisfied in this, that all end in God's glory.

"My dear brethren, be not offended at this plainness of speech. I would all the Lord's servants were prophets; but then, I would not have people think themselves prophets of the Lord, when they are only enthusiasts. If Mr. —— is actuated by a good spirit, why is he not patient of reproof? Why does he fly into a passion when contradicted? Why does he pretend to be infallible, and that God always speaks in him?

"Pure unfeigned love causes me to use this freedom. Many of you God has worked upon by my ministry, and, therefore, I would not have you ignorant of Satan's devices. O beware of him at this time. Do not conceive prejudices against each other. Do not dispute, but love. Purge out the old leaven from amongst you. Build up each other in your most holy faith. My dear brethren, I am your common servant in our dear Lord Jesus,

"George Whitefield."

This is not the place to detail, at greater length, the wranglings between the Moravians and the Methodists; but, after this, with the exception of attending a Moravian love-feast on June 25, and a Society meeting on August 1, Whitefield seems to have had no further connection with the Brethren.

On June 7, Whitefield preached again in the church near Gravesend, and in Mr. Piers's church at Bexley; and, on the two following days, at Bexley, Charlton, and Dulwich. He was invited to Charlton by the Earl and Countess of Egmont, who entertained him "with the utmost civility."

On June 10, Whitsunday, he writes:—

"Preached with more power than ever, and assisted in administering the sacrament to about two hundred communicants in Bexley Church.[223] Dined, gave thanks, and sang hymns at Mr. Delamotte's. Preached with great power, in the evening, on Blackheath, to above twenty thousand people, and collected £16 7s. for the orphans. After sermon, I went to the Green Man, near the place where I preached, and continued till midnight instant in prayer, praise, thanksgiving, and Christian communion. I believe there were fifty or sixty of us in all; and numbers stood by as spectators. Many of them watched unto prayer and praise all night."

This was a unique scene, in a public house, on the night of Whitsunday; but Whitefield writes:—

"I think it every Christian's duty to be particularly careful to glorify God in places where He is most dishonoured. Some can sing the songs of the drunkard in public houses; others can spend whole nights in chambering and wantonness; why should Christians be ashamed to sing songs of the Lamb, and spend nights in devotion?"

The sermon preached at Bexley was founded upon John vii. 37-39, and soon after was published with the following title: "The Indwelling of the Spirit, the Common Privilege of all Believers. A Sermon preached at the Parish Church of Bexley, in Kent, on Whitsunday, 1739. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 26 pp.) Two or three extracts from it will help to convey an idea of the style of Whitefield's preaching at this important period of his history, and of his apparent severity towards the clergy of the Established Church.

Having laid down the doctrine, that the indwelling of the "Holy Spirit is the common privilege and portion of believers in all ages," he proceeds:—

"I am astonished that any who call themselves members, much more, that many who are preachers of the Church of England, should dare so much as open their lips against this. And yet, with grief I speak it, persons of the Established Church seem to be more generally ignorant of it than any Dissenters whatsoever. But, good God! my dear brethren, what have you been doing? How often have your hearts given your lips the lie! How often have you offered God the sacrifice of fools, and had your prayers turned into sin, if you approve of, and use our excellent Church Liturgy, and yet deny the Holy Spirit to be the portion of all believers! Oh that I had no reason to speak it! but many, who use our forms, talk and preach against the necessity of receiving the Holy Ghost now, as well as formerly; and not only so, but cry out against those who do insist upon it, as madmen, enthusiasts, schismatics, and underminers of the Established Constitution.

"But you are the schismatics, you are the bane of the Church of England, who are always crying out, 'the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord;' and yet starve the people out of our communion, by feeding them only with the dry husks of dead morality. We subscribe to our Articles, and make them serve for a key to get into Church preferment, and then preach contrary to these very Articles to which we have subscribed. Far be it from me to charge all the clergy with this hateful hypocrisy. No, blessed be God! there are some left among us who dare maintain the doctrines of the Reformation, and preach the truth as it is in Jesus. But the generality of the clergy are fallen from our Articles, and do not speak agreeable to them, or to the form of sound words, delivered in the Scriptures. Woe be unto such blind leaders of the blind! How can you escape the damnation of hell? Not all your learning (falsely so called), nor all your preferments, can keep you from the just judgment of God. Yet a little while, and we all shall appear before the tribunal of Christ. There, there will I meet you. There Jesus Christ, that great shepherd and bishop of souls, shall determine who are the false prophets, who are the wolves in sheeps' clothing. But I can no more. It is an unpleasing task to censure any order of men, especially those who are in the ministry; nor would anything excuse it but necessity; that necessity which extorted from our Lord Himself so many woes against the scribes and Pharisees, the letter-learned rulers and teachers of the Jewish Church. And surely if I could bear to see people perish for lack of knowledge, and yet be silent towards those who keep from them the key of true knowledge, the very stones would cry out."

Whitefield brought upon himself great opprobrium by frequently designating the carnal and unconverted man "a motley mixture of brute and devil." One of the earliest uses of this strong expression occurs in the sermon from which the foregoing extract has been selected; and, as the following is a good specimen of the plain, powerful language the young preacher used, no excuse is needed for its insertion.

"O man! whosoever thou art that deniest the doctrine of original sin, if thy conscience be not scared as with a hot iron, tell me if thou dost not find thyself, by nature, to be a motley mixture of brute and devil? I know these terms will stir up the whole Pharisee in thy heart; but stop a little, and let us reason together. Dost thou not find that, by nature, thou art prone to pride? Otherwise, wherefore art thou now offended? Again, dost not thou find in thyself the seeds of malice, revenge, and all uncharitableness? And what are these but the very tempers of the devil? Again, do we not all, by nature, suffer ourselves to be led by our natural appetites, always looking downwards, never looking upwards to that God, in whom we live, move, and have our being? And what is this but the very nature of the beasts that perish? Out of thy own heart, therefore, will I oblige thee to confess, what an inspired apostle has long since told us, that the whole world, by nature, lies in the wicked one, that is, the devil; and that we are no better than those whom St. Jude calls brute beasts; for we have tempers, by nature, that prove to a demonstration that we are altogether earthly, sensual, and devilish."

One more extract must suffice. It presents Whitefield in another aspect,—pathetically and lovingly entreating sinners to be reconciled to God:—

"When Joseph was called out of the prison-house to Pharaoh's court, we are told, he stayed some time to prepare himself; but do you come with all your prison clothes about you. Come, poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked, as you are; and God will receive you, with open arms, as He did the prodigal. O let there be joy in heaven over some of you believing. Let me not go back to my Master, and say, Lord, they will not believe my report. Believe me, I am willing to go to prison or death for you; but I am not willing to go to heaven without you. The love of Christ constrains me to lift up my voice like a trumpet. My heart is now full. Out of the abundance of the love which I have for your precious and immortal souls, my mouth now speaketh. Why should I despair of any? No, I can despair of no one, when I consider Jesus Christ has had mercy on such a wretch as I am. However you may think of yourselves, I know that, by nature, I am but half a devil, and half a beast. The free grace of Christ prevented me. He saw me in my blood; He passed by; and said unto me, 'Live!' And the same grace, which was sufficient for me, is sufficient for you also. Come, then, my guilty brethren, come and believe on the Lord who brought you with His precious blood. Look up by faith, and see Him whom you have pierced. Behold Him bleeding, panting, dying. Behold Him with arms stretched out ready to receive you all."

Remembering that these are perfectly fair specimens of Whitefield's preaching, it is difficult to account for his enormous popularity. There is no genius, no poetry, no learning, no elaborate exposition, no profundity of thought, no embellishment of language, no anecdotes, no dramatic illustrations. There is much that is familiar, a little that is coarse, and more of egotism than is seemly in a young man of twenty-four. But, notwithstanding all this, Whitefield's popularity was unequalled.

The visit to Blackheath and its neighbourhood—in all respects a pleasant one—extended to nearly a fortnight, and Whitefield's principal home was the house of Mr. Delamotte at Blendon. Of course, he preached daily, sometimes in Mr. Piers's church at Bexley, occasionally at Dulwich, often at Blackheath, and two or three times to a few "gentlemen and ladies," in Mrs. S——'s house, at Lewisham. On one occasion, after he had preached in Bexley Church, he helped to administer the sacrament to nearly three hundred communicants, most of whom had followed him from London. Again and again, on Blackheath, his congregations consisted of twenty thousand people. Here, on Thursday, June 14, John and Charles Wesley came to see him. John Wesley had been preaching out of doors, at Bristol and at Kingswood; but, up to the present, he had avoided such an ecclesiastical irregularity in London. He writes:—

"June 14. I went with Mr. Whitefield to Blackheath, where were, I believe, twelve or fourteen thousand people. He a little surprised me, by desiring me to preach in his stead; which I did (though nature recoiled) on my favourite subject, 'Jesus Christ, who of God is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.' I was greatly moved with compassion for the rich that were there, to whom I made a particular application. Some of them seemed to attend, while others drove away their coaches from so uncouth a preacher."

Whitefield was delighted that Wesley had dared to copy his example, not only in Bristol, but in London. "I went to bed," says he, "rejoicing that a fresh inroad was made into Satan's territories, by Mr. Wesley's following me in field-preaching as well in London as in Bristol. The Lord give him ten thousand times more success than He has given me!"

The step was taken. Three days afterwards, Wesley began his wondrous outdoor ministry in Moorfields and at Kennington Common; and, a week after that, urged by Whitefield, Charles Wesley "broke down the bridge, became desperate," went forth in the name of Jesus Christ, found near ten thousand helpless sinners waiting for the word, in Moorfields, and preached to them from Matt. xi. 28. At night, on Kennington Common, he "cried to multitudes upon multitudes, 'Repent ye, and believe the gospel.'" "The Lord," says high-church Charles, "was my strength, and my mouth, and my wisdom."

Thus did the three great Methodists become outdoor preachers. Whitefield was not with his friends on either of the Sundays when they commenced to preach in Moorfields and at Kennington. On the first Sunday, June 17, he had a glorious day among his friends in Kent. He began by preaching in Bexley Church. Then he assisted in administering the Lord's supper. Next, he baptized an adult, twenty-eight years of age. Then he dined with the Delamottes at Blendon, "and took sweet counsel with many Christian friends." After this, he "preached to above twenty thousand people at Blackheath;" and, Sunday though it was, finished up by again having supper, and holding a meeting at the Green Man public-house. He writes: "There were nearly three hundred in the room. I continued in exhortation and prayer till eleven o'clock, and then retired to bed, much pleased to think that religion, which had long been skulking in corners, and was almost laughed out of the world, should now begin to appear abroad, and openly shew herself at noonday."

Thus was Whitefield occupied on the day when Wesley, for the first time, preached in Moorfields and at Kennington Common. And what about the ensuing Sunday, June 24, when Charles Wesley dared to copy John's example? Whitefield shall tell his own story. He writes:—

"Sunday, June 24. Read prayers, and assisted in administering the sacrament at Bexley Church. Many came from far, and expected to hear me preach; but the diocesan had been pleased to insist on the vicar's denying me the pulpit. Whether for just cause, God shall judge at the last day. If we have done anything worthy of the censures of the Church, why do not the Right Reverend the Bishops call us to a public account? If not, why do they not confess and own us? They say it is not regular, our going out into the highways and hedges, and compelling poor sinners to come in. We ought not so to beseech them to be reconciled to God. They desire to know by what authority we preach, and ask, What sign shewest thou that thou doest these things? Alas! what further sign would they require? We went not into the fields till we were excluded the churches. And has not God set His seal to our ministry in an extraordinary manner? Have not many that were spiritually blind received their sight? Have not the deaf heard? the lepers been cleansed? the dead been raised? That these notable miracles have been wrought, not in our own names, or by our own powers, but in the name and by the power of Jesus Christ, cannot be denied—and yet they require a sign! But verily there shall no other sign be given to this evil and adulterous generation!

"Preached in the afternoon to about three hundred people, in Justice Delamotte's yard; and, in the evening, on Blackheath, to upwards of twenty thousand, on these words, 'And they cast him out.' God grant we may learn, when we are reviled, not to revile again! When we suffer, may we threaten not, but commit our souls into the hands of Him that judgeth righteously! Lord, endue us with the spirit of Thy first martyr, St. Stephen, that we may pray most earnestly for our very murderers!"

The sermon just mentioned was probably the same as one which was soon after published, with the following title:—"The Spirit, Doctrines, and Lives of our Modern Clergy, not conformable to the Spirit of Christ. A Sermon preached at Islington and Bexley. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 33 pp.) The text was, Luke iv. 29, "And they thrust him out of the city."

Rightly to understand Whitefield's position, a few extracts from this notable sermon are necessary.

"My brethren, if we will live godly, we must suffer persecution. We must no more expect to go to heaven without being persecuted, than to be happy without being holy. If you lead godly lives, all the sons of Belial, all the scribes and Pharisees, will hate you, and have you in reproach. They will point at you, and cry, 'See, yonder comes another troop of his followers! There are more of his gang!' You are counted as a parcel of ignorant people, poor rabble, who are deceived by a vain young upstart babbler, by a madman, one who is running into enthusiastic notions, and endeavours to lead all his followers into his mad way of thinking. The Pharisees may wonder what I mean by talking of persecution in a Christian country; but, if they had their will, they would as willingly put our feet in the stocks, shut us up in prison, and take away our lives, as they have thrust us out of their synagogues. But let not that discourage you from hearing the word of God; for Jesus Christ can meet us as well in a field, as between church walls."

"If you were of the world—if you would conform to the ways, manners, and customs of the world—if you would go to a play, or ball, or masquerade, the world would then love you, because you would be its own. But, because you despise their polite entertainments, and go to hear a sermon in the field, and will not run into the same excess of riot as others, they esteem you as methodically mad, and fit only for Bedlam. If you would frequent horse-racing, assemblies, and cock-fighting, then you would be caressed and admired by our gay gentlemen; but your despising these innocent diversions, (as the world calls them,) makes them esteem you as a parcel of rabble, of no taste, who are going to destroy yourselves by being over-righteous. If you would join them in singing the song of the drunkard, they would think you a good companion; but because you are for singing hymns, and praising the Lord Jesus Christ, they think you enthusiasts. Indeed, our polite gentry would like religion very well, if it did but countenance an assembly, or allow them to read novels, plays, and romances; if they might go a-visiting on Sundays, or to a play or ball whenever they pleased. In short, they would like to live a fashionable, polite life, to take their full swing of pleasures, and go to heaven when they die. But, if they were to be admitted to heaven without a purification of heart and life, they would be unhappy there. It would be a hell to them. Angels and all good men would be esteemed enthusiasts and madmen. Heaven might be agreeable, if there were the same polite entertainments there, as they seem so much pleased with here; but there is never a horse-course or cock-pit all over heaven."

The same sermon contains a violent philippic against the clergy of the Established Church. Whitefield accuses them of thrusting him out of their churches, and of depriving him "of the rights and privileges which" he "ought to enjoy." This was petulance. He had no right to preach in other men's churches. The clergy might be discourteous in closing their churches against a young man recently appointed to the living of Savannah in Georgia; but it is difficult to conceive how such an act deprived him of his "rights and privileges." No doubt, many of the clergy were unconverted; their lives worldly; and their sermons short, jejune, and often heterodox; but Whitefield's preaching at and against them was not the best way to make them better. He proceeds:—

"Is it becoming a minister of the Church of England to frequent those places of polite entertainment, which are condemned by all serious and good men? Is it not inconsistent with all goodness for ministers to frequent play-houses, balls, masquerades? Would it not better become them to visit the poor of their flock, to pray with them, and to examine how it stands with God and their souls? Would it not be more agreeable to the temper of the blessed Jesus, to be going about doing good, than going about setting evil examples? How frequent is it for the poor and illiterate people to be drawn away more by example than by precept? How frequent is it for them to say, 'Sure there can be no crime in going to a play, or to an ale-house,—no crime in gaming and drinking, when a minister of our own Church does this.' This is the common talk of poor, ignorant people, who are too willing to follow the examples of their teachers. The examples of the generality of the clergy occasion many persons, committed to their charge, to run to the devil's entertainments. Good God! are these the men who are charging others with making too great a noise about religion?"

Enough! It is a curious fact that the sermon, from which these extracts are taken, is not included in Whitefield's collected works. Perhaps it was wisely omitted. It would have done no honour to its author, and been no benefit to its reader. Still it was preached, printed, published, sold, and read in 1739, and was one of the things which contributed to bring upon Whitefield and the Methodists the rage of both the pulpit and the press of that period.

It has been already stated, that, on the same day that this sermon was delivered on Blackheath, Whitefield also preached "to about three hundred people in Justice Delamotte's yard." His text in the "yard" was Hebrews iv. 9. The sermon, or rather incoherent address, founded upon this scripture, was likewise published, with the following title: "An Exhortation to the People of God not to be discouraged in their way, by the Scoffs and Contempt of Wicked Men. A Sermon preached in Mr. Delamotte's Yard, at Blendon Hall, near Bexley. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 12 pp.) The general tone of the "Exhortation" is the same as that of the sermon on Blackheath. It was an unwise act to commit such productions to the press; but, being published, they must be noticed. Under the shadow of the magistrate's mansion, the excited young orator exclaimed:—

"Here we are scoffed and derided; but be not discouraged. Though we are here the scorn and offscouring of all things, we are as a gazing-stock to men and angels. They put us out of their synagogues, and look upon us as persons unfit for their company; but in that rest, which is prepared for you, we shall be gazed at for our glory, and they be shut out of the church of saints, and separated from us, whether they will or no, unless the Lord Jesus Christ, by His free, rich, and sovereign grace, brings them unto Himself. The letter-learned scribes and Pharisees of the day look on us as madmen and enthusiasts. They think it strange that we run not with them into all excess of riot, and speak evil of us because we will not go to the devil's diversions with them. We cannot go along the street, but every one is pointing out his finger with scorn, and crying, 'Here comes another of his followers.' 'What! are you, too, become one of his disciples?' Let none of these things move you. Though you are thus treated here, you will have no discouraging company in heaven. You will have no scoffer there. You will not be counted enthusiasts, madmen, and rabble there. Undergo a few reproaches here patiently. Do not revile them again. Let them say what they please of me; the reproaches, and scorn, and contempt of this world will no ways hurt me, but will turn upon their own heads. Therefore, I beseech you, do not answer them again; but leave it to the Lord, who knows what is best for you and me."

During his visit to the Delamotte family at Blendon Hall, Whitefield had a run into Herts and Essex. His five days' evangelistic tour was full of incidents. He went to Hertford at the earnest request of many of the people there. The "Baptist teacher" of the town sent his horse to London to bring him. He was visited by Quakers. He "breakfasted, dined, prayed, and sung hymns with Mr. S——, a Dissenting minister." He preached thrice, his respective congregations numbering from three to five thousand people each.

By invitation, also, he "hasted to Broad-Oaks, about twenty miles from Hertford." Here a family resided divided against itself. Some of the family were converted, and were "most violently opposed and persecuted," by others who were not. The clergyman had been employed by the opponents to cure the religionists of their madness, and, among other things, he had preached against them. Whitefield went to strengthen and to comfort the new converts; and says, "I spent the most heavenly night I have known for a long while. We found the sweets of opposition, and rejoiced greatly in the prospect of suffering for Christ's sake. I believe the saints of old had never so much comfort as when they were obliged to shut the doors for fear of the Jews, and to hide themselves in dens and caves of the earth."

While at Broad-Oaks, Whitefield was visited by William Delamotte, son of the magistrate residing at Blendon Hall. William had become a Moravian, and was now a student in Cambridge University. The following account of him and of his family will be read with interest. Whitefield writes:—

"To increase our satisfaction," at Broad-Oaks, "Mr. Delamotte, a convert of Mr. Ingham's, came from Cambridge to meet us. He is scandalously opposed at that University. The students make him a proverb of reproach, and abuse him in the rudest manner. He has been forbid coming into one college; and two or three who associate with him have been threatened by their tutors for keeping him company. And here I cannot but remark what wonderful mercies God has shewn this Mr. Delamotte's family. About three or four years ago, God was pleased to touch the heart of his brother Charles, who, hearing that Mr. Wesley was going to Georgia, (though his father would have settled him in a very handsome way,) offered to go abroad with him as a servant. His parents' consent was asked; but they, and almost all their relations, opposed it strenuously. However, the young man being resolute, and convinced that God called him, they at length somewhat consented. He went abroad, lived with Mr. Wesley, served under him as a son in the gospel, did much good, and endured great hardships for the sake of Jesus Christ. Behold how God rewarded him for leaving all. While he was absent, God was pleased to make use of the ministry of Mr. Ingham and Mr. Charles Wesley in converting his mother, two sisters, and this young gentleman at Cambridge; who, I pray God, may stand as a barrier against the profaneness, debauchery, lukewarmness, and deism of that seat of learning, and prove both a Barnabas and Boanerges in the Church of England."

Whitefield's prayerful anticipations respecting William Delamotte were scarcely realized. Within four years after this, the young man died.[224]

Whitefield spent two happy nights at Broad-Oaks; and during the day-time preached twice at Saffron-Walden, once at Thaxted, and once at Bishop-Stortford. He returned to the Delamotte's at Blendon in sufficient time to preach his famous sermon against the clergy on June 24th.

In most, probably in all, of these journeys and open-air services, Mr. William Seward was Whitefield's companion. The following extract from a long letter written to the Rev. Thomas Seward, at Genoa, will be welcome:—

"Blendon, in Kent, June 16, 1739.

"Reverend and dear Brother,—By God's providence, we are not yet embarked for Georgia, so I have had the pleasure of receiving your kind and well-meant answer. I knew my letter would surprise you. I should have been surprised myself, had I been in your circumstances. Before long, I hope we shall all be of one mind. My brother Benjamin once opposed, as you do; but, blessed be God, he is now become a fool for Christ's sake.

"On my own behalf, I cannot sufficiently praise God for bringing me out of that darkness in which you left me, into His marvellous light. I know you imagined me to be a true Christian before you embarked, and so I thought myself. But I was almost a stranger to the doctrines of the Spirit of God, of regeneration, and of justification by faith only; nor do I remember to have heard any of them preached or explained by our clergy. I prayed, went to church, and gave alms; but why and wherefore I knew not. I knew little or nothing of a vital faith in Jesus Christ. I obeyed God and Christ in part, but not universally. I hated sin, but had not dominion over it. You say, my dear brother, that 'if a man who believes in Christ, and obeys God, is not a Christian, what is Christianity?' But the question is, what this belief may be? Not a bare historical assent to the truths and facts recorded in the Scripture, (for this is only the faith of devils,) but a vital faith wrought in the heart by the blessed Spirit of God, and productive of good works. This is a faith I never fully felt before Mr. Charles Wesley expounded the seventh of Romans, and I cannot but always honour him as an instrument in God's hand of shewing me the true way of salvation by Jesus Christ. You may call this Quakerism, or what you please; but I know it is the faith which Christ and His apostles preached.

"You pray, my dear brother, that we may return to the Church of England. We are not dissenting from it; neither are the Methodists, as the world, in derision, calls them. They constantly preach up the articles, collects, homilies, and liturgies of our own Church. But here lies the truth of the matter. The doctrines of the Reformation have lain a long while dormant. The generality of our English clergy have sadly fallen from them. God has raised up some to preach the truth as it is in Jesus, and as held by our Church. He has set His seal to their ministry. They have made abundantly more converts than those zealous atheists you mentioned. The pleasure, preferment-loving clergy envy their success, and, therefore, are confederate against them. Perhaps you may think this uncharitable; but I think I speak the truth in Christ.

"I am far from being bigotted to the Methodists, or to Mr. Whitefield in particular, out of a blind zeal. I will follow him no farther than he follows Christ. I believe him to be a sincere good minister of Jesus Christ. You do not seem to think so. Who wants charity, you or I? 'By their fruits ye shall know them,' says our Lord. Do the other clergy bring forth such fruit? You seem to reflect on me for going round the kingdom with such a knight-errant as Whitefield. I wish you had used milder terms. But, my dear brother, may I not justly turn the tables upon yourself, and reflect on you for leaving your flock, and travelling merely for profit, or little else? Perhaps you may answer, you have committed your flock to the care of a curate. But may I not reply to you, as St. Bernard did once on a like occasion, 'Will your curate be damned for you?' Do not charge others with being righteous over-much, before you can prove you are righteous enough yourself. Return home, my dear brother; watch diligently that flock committed to your care; catechize and visit from house to house; live as Christ lived; teach as He taught; leave off hunting after preferment, and cease to please the polite world; and then I will think you a proper person to judge whether the Methodists are enthusiasts or not.

"Excuse me, my dear brother, this seeming severity. Love for God, love for you, constrains me to use this freedom. Yet a little while, and I embark for Georgia. I have settled my worldly affairs, and have taken care of my dear child. God has begun a good work in our house. I believe He will carry it on. He has given me my brother Benjamin, and will He not give me my brother Thomas also? I am, your affectionate, though weak and unworthy brother in Christ,

"William Seward."

It has been already stated that, on the 14th of June, Wesley was with Whitefield on Blackheath, and preached to Whitefield's congregation. Four days afterwards, Wesley returned to Bristol, and, a week later, Whitefield addressed to him the following important letter. The two friends on some points differed in their opinions. Whitefield disapproved of the "convulsions" of Wesley's converts in Bristol. And again, though no Calvinism can be found in any of the sermons which Whitefield as yet had published, it is evident, from the subjoined epistle, that already he was inclined to the predestinarian creed.

"London, June 25, 1739.

"Honoured Sir,—I cannot think it right in you to give so much encouragement to those convulsions which people have been thrown into under your ministry. Were I to do so, how many would cry out every night! I think it is tempting God to require such signs. That there is something of God in it, I doubt not. But the devil, I believe, does interpose. I think it will encourage the French Prophets,[225] take people from the written word, and make them depend on visions, convulsions, etc., more than on the promises and precepts of the gospel.

"Honoured sir, how could you tell that some who came to you 'were in a good measure sanctified?' What fruits could be produced in one night's time? 'By their fruits,' says our Lord, 'shall ye know them.'

"I hear, honoured sir, that you are about to print a sermon against predestination.[226] It shocks me to think of it. What will be the consequences but controversy? If people ask my opinion, what shall I do? I have a critical part to act. God enable me to behave aright! Silence on both sides will be best. It is noised abroad already that there is a division between you and me, and my heart within me is grieved. Providence to-morrow calls me to Gloucester. If you will be pleased to come next week to London, I think, God willing, to stay a few days at Bristol. Your brother Charles goes to Oxon. I believe we shall be excommunicated soon. May the Lord enable us to stand fast in the faith, and stir up your heart to watch over the soul of, honoured sir, your dutiful son and servant,

"George Whitefield."[227]

Wesley did not come to London; but, as will soon be seen, Whitefield went to Bristol. Meanwhile, the young Georgian clergyman was one of the most notorious men in England. Even the Gentleman's Magazine, in its number for the month of June, inserted a laudatory poem "on Mr. Whitefield's preaching," in which Whitefield's sermons are contrasted with the sermons of the Arians, and wonder is expressed that the people should object to Whitefield's doctrines. With indignant feeling the versifier writes:—

"No words for such a preacher are too bad;
Enthusiast, babbler, and a fool run mad!"

The Weekly Miscellany hardly allowed a week to pass without fulminating its wrath against the open-air preacher. In the month of May, the Rev. Josiah Tucker,[228] a young man of eight-and-twenty, curate of All Saints', Bristol, but afterwards a doctor of divinity, and Dean of Gloucester, proposed three "queries" to Whitefield. In the month of June, an anonymous friend deigned to answer them. This increased the young curate's angry indignation, and he immediately replied, accusing Whitefield of propagating "blasphemous and enthusiastic notions which struck at the root of all religion, and made it the jest of those who sat in the seat of the scornful." He also related, rightly or wrongly, that "Whitefield, by his friends, prevented the printing of his" (Tucker's) "queries in the Bristol Journal;" and, instead of replying to them, wrote a letter telling the querist "very lordly and laconically, 'My motto is, Answer him not a word.'" Mr. Tucker continues, "He has, likewise, pronounced sentence against me, 'That while I remain in this way of thinking, he absolutely despairs of meeting me in heaven;' and says he can produce two cobblers in Bristol who know more of true Christianity than all the clergy in the city put together."

Whitefield had dared to preach at Charlton, in close proximity to Greenwich, and this aroused Dr. Skerret, who published a corrective sermon, for the safety of his flock, with the following title: "The Nature and Proper Evidence of Regeneration; or, the New and Second Birth: considered in a Sermon preached in the Parish Churches of East Greenwich, in the County of Kent, upon Whitsunday, and St. Peter the Poor, London, on Trinity-Sunday, 1739. By Ralph Skerret, D.D., Chaplain to the Right Honourable Henry Earl of Grantham. London, 1739." (8vo, 36 pp.) In his preface, Dr. Skerret accuses Whitefield and his friends as "restless deceivers of the people;" as "subtle and designing men;" and says "they break in upon all relative duties, and the benefits of social life, by daily assembling themselves in troops, upon hills and the neighbouring commons, under a vain pretence of serving God more acceptably. But all such service is contrary to common decency, unanimity, and good order, and is a contempt of the established places of worship in their own parishes."

The celebrated Dr. Byrom met Whitefield in London, at the end of June; and, in a letter to his wife, observed:—

"While we were at Cousin W. Chad's last night, the so much talked of Mr. Whitefield came in. He stayed about a quarter of an hour and then took coach to Gloucestershire. I am surprised at the progress which he has made, to which the weakness of his printing adversaries does not a little contribute. He had lords, dukes, etc., to hear him at Blackheath, who gave guineas and half-guineas for his Orphan House. He does surprising things, and has a great number of followers, both curious and real. This field-preaching, they say, is got into France, as well as Germany, England, Scotland, Wales, etc. People are more and more alarmed at the wonder of it, but none offer to stop it, that I hear of."[229]

Scraps like these are useful as helping to exhibit young Whitefield's notoriety. He must now be tracked to the west of England.

One of the kindest and most faithful friends of Whitefield and the Wesleys was Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, a banker in Lombard Street, London. Mr. Blackwell had already joined the Methodists; and Whitefield, on arriving at Cirencester, wrote to him the following characteristic letter, now for the first time published:—

"Cirencester, June 27, 1739.

"Dear Mr. Blackwell,—Last night, God brought us hither in safety. I have now a few moments' leisure. How can I employ them better than in writing you? I almost envy you, because, when I left you, you were sick. Glorious lessons, dear sir, may you learn from such a visitation. It may remind you of the much greater sickness and disorder of your soul, and give you an excellent opportunity of retiring in order to prepare yourself for the buffetings of a ridiculing world. Ere I return, I expect to hear you are stigmatized, not only in Lombard Street, but, in all the places round about. For Christ's servants have always been the world's fools. And, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you, even you, must suffer persecution. But you know in whom you have believed. He is able and willing to deliver you. Go on, therefore, my dear friend, in the strength of Christ. Make mention of His righteousness only. Give Him your heart—your whole heart. Cleave to Him by faith in His blood; and then you may bid men and devils defiance. Oh! Mr. Blackwell, I would not have you a Demas for the world. But away with all such thoughts. I cannot bear them. Dearest Mr. Blackwell, I am ever yours in our Lord Jesus Christ,

"George Whitefield.

"P.S.—My most hearty love to Brother Sparks, Horn, etc."

This, probably, was the first Methodist letter received by the Lombard-street banker.

Whitefield's proceedings, during the next few days, are sketched in the following extracts from his Journal:—

"Wednesday, June 27. I waited on the minister of Cirencester, and asked him for the use of his pulpit; but he refused it, because I had not my letters of orders. Went to public worship at eleven; and preached to about three thousand people, in a field near the town, at twelve. Was afterwards visited by several gracious souls of the Baptist congregation, who brought me five guineas for the Orphan House. About seven in the evening, I reached Gloucester, and visited the Society, and expounded for an hour to more people than the room would contain.

"Thursday, June 28. Preached in the morning to about a thousand people in my brother's field. Went to public prayers at the cathedral. Waited upon the bishop, who received me very civilly. Visited some sick persons in the afternoon. Preached at night to upwards of three thousand.

"Friday, June 29. Preached in my brother's field in the morning to a large and very affected congregation. Went to the cathedral service. Visited some religious friends; and preached to above three thousand souls in the street at Painswick.[230] All was hushed and silent. The Divine Presence was amongst us.

"Saturday, June 30. Preached in the morning, in the bowling-green at Stroud, to near two thousand people; and in the evening, at Gloucester, to a larger and more affected congregation than ever.

Thus ended another eventful month. On Sunday, July 1, Whitefield preached not fewer than four times. First, in his brother's field at Gloucester, at seven o'clock in the morning; and next at Randwick, a village about seven miles from Gloucester, where he was allowed to preach, both forenoon and afternoon, in the parish church. "The church," says he, "was quite full, and about two thousand were in the churchyard, who, by taking down the window behind the pulpit, had the conveniency of hearing. Many wept sorely." At the conclusion of the afternoon service, he hastened to Hampton Common, where, he writes, "To my great surprise, I found no fewer than twenty thousand, on horseback and foot, ready to hear me. I spoke with greater freedom than I had done all the day before. About twelve at night, I reached Gloucester, much fresher than when I left it in the morning."

Notwithstanding his hard day's work, Whitefield preached next morning, in his "brother's field, to a larger audience than ever." He then went off to Tewkesbury. As soon as he arrived, four constables, sent by the bailiff of the town, came either to arrest or frighten him. One of Whitefield's friends, a lawyer, requested the constables to shew their warrant. The officious quaternion had no warrant to exhibit, and hence the lawyer "sent them about their business;" and Whitefield, notwithstanding their threats, preached in a field to a congregation of two or three thousand people. Next morning, the preacher waited upon the bailiff, and asked him why he had sent the constables, with their staves, to arrest him. The bailiff threw the responsibility of his foolish act upon the town council; but added, that "a certain judge" had threatened to apprehend Whitefield "as a vagrant," if he dared to preach near the place where he resided. "The judge," said Whitefield, "is welcome to do as he pleases; but no magistrate, I conceive, has power to stop my preaching, even in the streets." "No, sir," replied the bailiff; "and if you preach here to-morrow, you shall have the constables to attend you." "After this," says Whitefield, "I took my leave, telling him to be careful to appoint constables to attend at the next horse-races, balls, and assemblies."

From Tewkesbury, Whitefield proceeded to Evesham. Here again the magistrates threatened to apprehend him if he "preached within their liberties." Accordingly, to prevent this, he preached thrice from a wall near Benjamin Seward's house, his congregations consisting of thousands.

On Wednesday, July 4, after breakfasting with a Quaker, Whitefield, accompanied by about thirty of his friends, left Evesham for Pershore, whither he had been invited by the incumbent, the Rev. Mr. Parks. Having read prayers and preached in Mr. Parks's church, Whitefield writes: "About five in the evening, I took an affectionate leave of Evesham friends, and, in company with about one hundred and twenty on horseback, went to Tewkesbury, and never saw a town so much alarmed. The streets were crowded with people from all parts. I rode immediately through the town, and preached to about six thousand hearers in a field, but saw no constables either to molest or attend on me. Immediately after sermon, I took horse, and reached Gloucester near midnight."

This was a marvellous scene, in a quiet country town of between three and four thousand inhabitants. Think of a cavalcade, numbering more than a hundred persons, with a young clergyman at their head, riding, on a fine evening in summer, from ten to twelve miles—from Evesham to Tewkesbury—and all the way making the welkin ring with the singing of "psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs." No wonder that Tewkesbury was, if not "alarmed," yet excited; and no wonder that the Christian equestrians drew after them a congregation of six thousand people.

Whitefield had preached thrice, and had ridden between thirty and forty miles, and had not reached Gloucester till nearly midnight; but, notwithstanding this, he preached again at Gloucester next morning, and then set out to join his friend Wesley at Bristol. Arriving in the evening at Chafford Common, about eight miles from Gloucester, he found a congregation of more than ten thousand people awaiting him, and preached to them about two hours, "till it was nearly dark."

On the following morning, July 6, he resumed his journey; and, when approaching Bristol, was met by numbers of his friends. As he entered, the bells of the city were set a-ringing. "I was received," says he, "as an angel of God; and, at seven in the evening, preached at Baptist Mills to about six or seven thousand people."

Three months had elapsed since he left Bristol and Kingswood to the care of Wesley; and in the interval strange scenes had been witnessed. Wesley, the high-churchman, had followed Whitefield's example, by regularly preaching in the open-air. Under his ministry, large numbers had been convinced of sin. Many of them had been thrown into violent convulsions, and not a few had found peace with God. Wesley had been permitted to preach in Newgate, from which Whitefield had virtually been expelled. He had commenced building, in the Horse Fair, Bristol, the first Methodist meeting house. He had conveyed the property to eleven trustees; but, at Whitefield's remonstrance, and by mutual consent, the trust deed had been destroyed, and the management of the building was now entirely in Wesley's own hands. He had also begun to build the school at Kingswood, for which, on March 29, Whitefield had made the first collection; and the site of which, on April 2, Whitefield had consecrated, by kneeling upon a loose stone, and praying "that the gates of hell might not prevail against the colliers' design."

Of course, Wesley met Whitefield, and went with him to Baptist Mills, where, says the former, "he preached concerning 'the Holy Ghost, which all who believe are to receive;' not without a just, though severe, censure of those who preach as if there were no Holy Ghost." Wesley continues:—

"Saturday, July 7. I had an opportunity to talk with Mr. Whitefield of those outward signs which had so often accompanied the inward work of God. I found his objections were chiefly grounded on gross misrepresentations of matter of fact. But the next day, he had an opportunity of informing himself better; for no sooner had he begun, in the application of his sermon, to invite all sinners to believe in Christ, than four persons sunk down close to him, almost in the same moment. One of them lay without either sense or motion. A second trembled exceedingly. A third had strong convulsions all over his body, but made no noise, unless by groans. The fourth, equally convulsed, called upon God with strong cries and tears. From this time, I trust, we shall all suffer God to carry on His own work in the way that pleaseth Him."

So much as it respects Wesley. What did Whitefield say? He writes:—

"Saturday, July 7. Settled some affairs concerning our brethren, and had a useful conversation about many things with my honoured friend Mr. John Wesley. Dined at my sister's. Preached at Baptist Mills, to near the same number of people as last night, and found that Bristol had great reason to bless God for the ministry of Mr. John Wesley. The congregations I observed to be much more serious and affected than when I left them; and their loud and repeated Amens, which they put up to every petition, as well as the exemplariness of their conversation in common life, plainly shew that they have not received the grace of God in vain. That good, great good, is done is evident. Either this is done by an evil or good spirit. If you say by an evil spirit, I answer in our Lord's own words, 'If Satan be divided against Satan, how can his kingdom stand?' If by a good Spirit, why do not the clergy and the rest of the Pharisees believe our report? It is little less than blasphemy against the Holy Ghost to impute the great work, that has been in so short a time wrought in this kingdom, to delusion and the power of the devil."

On Sunday, July 8, Whitefield preached thrice—first, at the Bowling Green, Bristol, "to about ten thousand people;" next, at Hannam Mount, to nearly the same number; and, in the evening, at Rose Green, to about twenty thousand.

On Tuesday, July 10, he writes:—

"Preached yesterday evening, at the Brick-yard, to about eight thousand people. Dined to-day with my honoured fellow-labourer, Mr. Wesley, and many other friends, at Two-mile Hill, in Kingswood, and preached afterwards to several thousand people and colliers, in the school-house, which has been carried on so successfully, that the roof is ready to be put up. The design, I think, is good. Old as well as young are to be instructed. A great and visible alteration is made in the behaviour of the colliers. Instead of cursing and swearing, they are heard to sing hymns about the woods; and the rising generation, I hope, will be a generation of Christians. They seem much affected by the word, and are observed to attend the churches and societies, when Mr. Wesley is absent from them. Went immediately after sermon was ended, with Mr. Wesley and several other friends, to Bath, and preached to about three thousand people. It rained a little all the while, but the people were patient and attentive. Heard to-day, also, that the town clerk of Bristol did my brother Wesley and me the honour to desire the grand jury, at their quarter-sessions, to present our meetings, and to have the Riot Act read, but they did not regard him. Nay, one, who was called to serve on the petty jury, offered to submit to any fine rather than do anything against us; who, he said, were true servants of Jesus Christ.

"Wednesday, July 11. Preached" (at Bath) "in the morning, to a larger audience than last night. Hastened to Bristol, and preached, in the evening, at Baptist Mills. After this, my brother Wesley and I went to the Women and Men's Societies, settled some affairs, and united the two leading Societies together.

"Thursday, July 12. Was busy most of the day in preparing a sermon for the press, on 'The Indwelling of the Spirit,' which I would recommend to all. Preached, in the evening, to eight or nine thousand people, in the Bowling Green.

"Friday, July 13. Preached my farewell sermon, at seven in the morning, to a weeping audience. My heart was full, and I continued near two hours in prayer and preaching. The poor people shed many tears, and sent up thousands of prayers on my behalf. Their mites they most cheerfully contributed to the school-house at Kingswood. Retired after sermon to vent my heart, which was ready to burst with a sense of God's special, distinguishing, repeated mercies."

Thus, for the present, ended Whitefield's ministry in Bristol, for he was not there again until nearly two years afterwards. Wesley writes:—

"July 13. In the afternoon, I left Bristol with Mr. Whitefield, in the midst of heavy rain. But the clouds soon dispersed, so that we had a fair, calm evening, and a serious congregation at Thornbury."

Before following the two friends, an important incident must be mentioned. The reader has already learned, that, from the first, good Bishop Benson had been Whitefield's friend; but, on the day Whitefield left Gloucester for Bristol, he received a letter from the bishop, "in which," says he, "his lordship affectionately admonished me, and expressed the opinion that I ought to preach the Gospel only in the congregation to which I was lawfully appointed."

To this affectionate admonition, Whitefield returned the following answer:—

"Bristol, July 9, 1739.

"My Lord,—I thank your lordship for your lordship's kind letter. My frequent removes from place to place prevented my answering it sooner.

"I am greatly obliged to your lordship, in that you are pleased to watch over my soul, and to caution me against acting contrary to the commission given me at ordination. But, if the commission we then receive obliges us to preach nowhere but in that parish which is committed to our care, then all persons act contrary to their commission when they preach occasionally in any strange place; and, consequently, your lordship equally offends when you preach out of your own diocese.

"As for inveighing against the clergy, without a cause, I deny the charge. What I say, I am ready to make good whenever your lordship pleases. Let those, who bring reports to your lordship about my preaching, be brought face to face, and I am ready to give them an answer. St. Paul exhorts Timothy not to receive an accusation against an elder under two or three witnesses. And even Nicodemus could say, the law suffered no man to be condemned unheard. I shall only add, that I hope your lordship will inspect the lives of your other clergy, and censure them for being over-remiss, as much as you censure me for being over-righteous. It is their falling from their Articles, and not preaching the truth as it is in Jesus, that has excited the present zeal of those, whom they, in derision, call the Methodist preachers.

"Dr. Stebbing's sermon[231] (for which I thank your lordship) confirms me more and more in my opinion, that I ought to be instant in season and out of season; for, to me, he seems to know no more of the true nature of regeneration than Nicodemus did when he came to Jesus by night. Your lordship may observe that he does not speak a word of original sin, or the dreadful consequences of our fall in Adam, upon which the doctrine of the new birth is entirely founded. No; like other polite preachers, he seems to think that St. Paul's description of the wickedness of the heathen is only to be referred to those of past ages: whereas I affirm, we are all included as much under the guilt and consequences of sin as they were.

"Again, my lord, the doctor entirely mistakes us when we talk of the sensible operations of the Holy Ghost. I know not that we use the word sensible; but, if we do, we do not mean that God's Spirit manifests itself to our senses, but that it may be perceived by the soul, as really as any sensible impression made upon the body. Although the operations of the Spirit of God can no more be accounted for than how the wind cometh and goeth, yet may they be as easily felt by the soul as the wind may be felt by the body. My lord, indeed, we speak what we know.

"But, says the doctor, 'These men have no proof to offer for their inward manifestations.' What proof, my lord, does the doctor require? Would he have us raise dead bodies? Have we not done greater things than these? I speak with all humility. Has not God, by our ministry, raised many dead souls to a spiritual life? Verily, if men will not believe the evidence God has given that He sent us, neither would they believe though one rose from the dead.

"Besides, my lord, the doctor charges us with things we are entire strangers to,—such as denying men the use of God's creatures; and encouraging abstinence and prayer to the neglect of the duties of our station. Lord, lay not this sin to his charge!

"But, the doctor, and the rest of my reverend brethren, are welcome to judge me as they please. Yet a little while, and we shall all appear before the great Shepherd of our souls. There, there, my lord, shall it be determined who are His true ministers, and who are only wolves in sheep's clothing. Our Lord, I believe, will not be ashamed to confess us publicly in that day. I pray God, we all may approve ourselves such faithful ministers of the New Testament, that we may be able to lift up our heads with boldness!

"As for declining the work in which I am engaged, my blood runs chill at the very thought of it. I am as much convinced it is my duty to act as I do, as I am that the sun shines at noonday. I can foresee the consequences very well. They have already, in one sense, thrust us out of the synagogues. By-and-by, they will think it is doing God service to kill us. But, my lord, if you and the rest of the bishops cast us out, our great and common Master will take us up. However you may censure us as evil-doers and disturbers of the peace, yet, if we suffer for our present way of acting, your lordship, at the great day, will find that we suffer only for righteousness' sake. In patience, therefore, do I possess my soul. I will willingly tarry the Lord's leisure. In the meanwhile, I shall continually bear your lordship's favours upon my heart, and endeavour to behave, so as to subscribe myself,

"My lord, your lordship's obedient son and obliged servant,

"George Whitefield."

This was a bold letter to the venerable prelate, who had always been Whitefield's friend, and who, only six months before, had admitted him to the orders of a priest. But to return, let us follow the young evangelist in his wanderings. He writes:—

"Saturday, July 14. Preached" (at Thornbury) "at eight this morning, to an attentive congregation. Breakfasted at a Quaker's, and reached Gloucester, with my honoured friend, Mr. John Wesley, and some others, in the afternoon. Went to the cathedral prayers, and afterwards preached to a congregation a third part larger than I have had in this place before.

Whitefield merely mentions the Quaker at Thornbury—Wesley gives a more detailed account, and takes the opportunity of lashing the pretended teachers of the people. He writes as follows:—

"July 14. We breakfasted" (at Thornbury) "with a Quaker, who had been brought up in the Church of England; but, being under strong convictions of inward sin, and applying to several persons for advice, they all judged him to be under a disorder of body, and gave advice accordingly. Some Quakers, with whom he met about the same time, told him it was the hand of God upon his soul; and advised him to seek another sort of relief than those miserable comforters had recommended. 'Woe unto you, ye blind leaders of the blind!' How long will ye pervert the right ways of the Lord? Ye, who tell the mourners in Zion, 'Much religion hath made you mad!' Ye, who send them, whom God hath wounded, to the devil for cure; to company, idle books, or diversions! Thus shall they perish in their iniquity; but their blood shall God require at your hands."

Next morning the two friends parted, not to meet again until the year 1741, when, unfortunately, there was a rupture between them, which, hereafter, will demand attention. Leaving Wesley to preach to assembled thousands in Gloucester, Whitefield set out for London. He writes:—

"Sunday, July 15. Left my honoured friend, Mr. Wesley, to preach to about seven thousand souls in Gloucester. Preached twice in Randwick Church, and assisted in administering the sacrament to two hundred and seventy communicants. In the evening, at Hampton Common, I was enabled to preach to about twenty thousand.

"July 16. Preached, at noon, at Tedbury, to about four thousand people. Many, of divers denominations, came to meet me, with whom I took sweet counsel. Visited, in the afternoon, Mr. O——, a Baptist teacher. At seven, in the evening, preached to about three thousand people at Malmesbury. Much opposition had been made, by the Pharisees, against my coming; and the minister, in particular, had written to the churchwarden to stop me.

"July 17. Preached to about two thousand, at eight in the morning; and reached Cirencester at six in the evening. Here also men breathed out threatenings against me. Numbers came from neighbouring towns. My congregation was as large again as when I preached here last.

"July 18. Preached at seven in the morning. I stood in the valley, and the people on an ascent, that formed a most beautiful amphitheatre. I reached Abingdon about seven in the evening, and preached to several thousands. Much opposition had been made against my coming. The landlord, whose house we offered to put up at, genteelly told us he had not room for us.

"July 19. At the request of several well-disposed people, preached again this morning, though not to so great a number as before. Reached Basingstoke about seven at night. Being languid and weary, I lay down soon after our coming to the inn; but was shortly told the landlord would not let us stay under his roof. Upon this, I immediately went to another inn. The people made a mock of both me and my friends, as we passed along, and fire-rockets were thrown around the door. About an hour after, I received the following letter, by the hands of the constable, from the mayor:—

"'Basingstoke, July 19, 1739.

"'Sir,—Being a civil magistrate in this town, I thought it my duty, for the preservation of the peace, to forbid you, or, at least, dissuade you, from preaching here. If you persist in it, in all probability it may occasion a disturbance, which, I think, it is your duty, as a clergyman, as well as mine, to prevent. If any mischief should ensue, (whatever pretence you may afterwards make in your own behalf,) I am satisfied it will fall on your own head, being timely cautioned by me, who am, sir, your most humble servant,

"'John Abbot.

"'P.S.—The Legislature has wisely made laws for the preservation of the peace; therefore, I hope no clergyman lives in defiance of them.'"

Thus wrote Mr. Abbot, mayor of Basingstoke—a butcher by business, but a stickler for peace. Whitefield immediately answered Mr. Abbot's letter, with a high-sounding courtesy, more due to Mr. Abbot's mayoralty than to his business:—

"Honoured Sir,—I thank you for your kind letter, and I humbly hope a sense of duty, and not a fear of man, caused you to write it.

"If so, give me leave to remind you, honoured sir, that you ought to be, not only a terror of evil-doers, but a praise to them that do well. I know of no law against such meetings as mine. If any such law exists, I believe you will think it your duty, honoured sir, to apprise me of it, that I may not offend against it. If no law can be produced, I think it my duty to inform you that you ought to protect an assembly of people meeting together purely to worship God.

"To-morrow, honoured sir, I hear there is to be an assembly of another nature. Be pleased to be as careful to have the public peace preserved at that; and to prevent profane cursing and swearing, and persons bruising each other's bodies by cudgelling and wrestling. If you do not this, I shall rise up against you at the great day, and be a swift witness against your partiality.

"I am, honoured sir, your very humble servant,
"George Whitefield."

Next morning, Whitefield waited upon the magisterial butcher, to enquire about the law against his preaching. The mayor was unable to answer the preacher's enquiry, but said, "Sir, you ought to preach in a church." "So I would," replied Whitefield, "if your minister would give me leave." "Sir," said Mr. Abbot, "I believe you have some sinister ends in view. Why do you go about making a disturbance?" "I make no disturbance," answered Whitefield. "It was hard I could not come into your town without being insulted. It was your business, sir, to wait, and, if there was any riot in my meetings, then, and not till then, to interpose." "Sir," continued the zealous mayor, "you wrote to me about the revel to-day." "Yes," rejoined Whitefield, "you ought to go, and read the riot act, and put a stop to it."

Here the mayor and the preacher parted; but the contention was not ended. On the same day, the angry official, with a fair amount of scholarship for a man who handled the cleaver, as well as mace, sent to Whitefield a polished epistle, as follows:—

"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.

"Rev. Sir,—I received your extraordinary letter, and could expect no other from so uncommon a genius.

"I apprehend your meetings to be unlawful, having no toleration to protect you in it. My apprehension of religion always was, and I hope always will be, that God is to be worshipped in places consecrated and set apart for His service; and not in brothels, and places where all manner of debauchery may have been committed; but how far this is consistent with your actions, I leave you to judge.

"As for the other assembly you are pleased to mention, 'tis contrary to my will, having never given my consent to it, nor approved of it, but discouraged it before your reverendship came to this town; and, if these cudgellers persist in it, I shall set them upon the same level with you, and think you all breakers of the public peace. You very well know there are penal laws against cursing and swearing, and I could wish there were the same against deceit and hypocrisy.

"Your appearing against me as a swift witness, at the day of judgment, I must own, is a most terrible thing, and may serve as a bugbear for children, or people of weak minds; but, believe me, reverend sir, those disguises will have but little weight amongst men of common understanding.

"Yours,
"John Abbot."

To this Whitefield returned the following reply:—

"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.

"Honoured Sir—Does Mr. Mayor do well to be angry? Alas! what evil have I done? I honour you as a magistrate; but, as a minister, I am obliged to have no respect of persons. Your apprehending my meetings to be unlawful, does not make them so. There is no need of a toleration to protect me, when I do not act unconformable to any law, civil or ecclesiastical. Be pleased to prove that my meetings are schismatical, seditious, or riotous, and then I will submit.

"But you say they are upon unconsecrated ground. Honoured sir, give me leave to inform you, that God is not now confined to places. Where two or three are gathered together in Christ's name, there will Christ be in the midst of them. The Church, by our ministers in their prayer before their sermons, is defined to be, not the church walls, but a congregation of Christian people. Such is mine.

"As for judging me, to my own Master I stand or fall. At His dreadful tribunal I will meet you; and then you shall see what is in the heart of, honoured sir, your very humble servant,

"George Whitefield."

Notwithstanding the mayor's fulminated wrath, Whitefield went into a field, and began to preach. He suffered no interruption worth mentioning. Returning to the inn, he "prayed and sung psalms with a few disciples, and then took his leave." Passing along, however, he saw the "stage built for the cudgellers and wrestlers, and met divers coming to the revel." He was already a mile from Basingstoke; but, "seeing so many souls, for whom Christ died, ready to perish, and no minister or magistrate to interpose," he at once returned, mounted the stage, and began to shew the wrestlers, and cudgellers, and their friends "the error of their ways." The boys huzzaed. One of the "cudgellers" struck him with a cudgel. The crowd thronged and pushed him. To obtain a hearing was impossible; and, hence, the intrepid evangelist again set out for London. Perhaps it was well he did; hence the following from a letter written to him by a Quaker:—

"Basingstoke, July 21, 1739.

"My dear Friend,—When I yesterday went up to thy inn, and found thee just gone, I was sorry that I missed an opportunity of taking my leave of thee, and of expressing the sense I had of the presence and power of God with thee, especially in the latter part of thy sermon, and in thy prayer after it. However, I am truly glad that thou wert preserved out of the hands of cruel men. Thou heardest of the threatenings of many; but the malice of some went further. There were ten or twelve men lying in wait to do thee a private mischief. I know this, by the testimony of one of these very men, who boasted to me, 'We would have given him a secret blow, and prevented his making disturbances.'

"O thy noble testimony against the profaneness and vanity of the age! It rejoiced me not a little. But when thou earnest to the necessity, the nature, and the rewards of the new birth, thou wert carried beyond thyself. The fountain of life was opened, and flowed around amongst the living. I, for one, am a monument of free grace and mercy. O God, how boundless is Thy love!

"My dear friend, may we finally be received up into the mansions of glory, there to live with all the righteous generations, and to sing with them, hallelujahs, glory, and praise, for ever and ever. May the Ancient of Days keep thee in His arms, direct thee by His Spirit, support, comfort, and watch over thee, is the fervent prayer of thine in great sincerity,

"J. Portsmouth."

Whitefield arrived in London on Saturday, July 21, and, in the evening of the same day, "preached to upwards of ten thousand at Kennington Common." During his absence, Moorfields and Kennington Common had been supplied by Charles Wesley, and Whitefield writes: "Blessed be God for what has been done here, since I left London, by my honoured friend and fellow-labourer, Mr. Charles Wesley. All love, all glory be to God for giving so great an increase!"

"Sunday, July 22. Received a letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine, of Scotland. Some may be offended at my corresponding with him, but I dare not but confess my Lord's disciples. Preached, at seven in the morning, to about twenty thousand in Moorfields, and collected £24 17s. for the school-house at Kingswood. Ye scoffers, ye blind Pharisees, come and see, and then call these tumultuous, seditious assemblies, if you can. Would to God, they behaved so decently in any church in London! Went to St. Paul's, and received the blessed sacrament. Preached in the evening, at Kennington Common, to about thirty thousand hearers, and collected £15 15s. 6d. for the colliers. God gave me great power, and I never opened my mouth so freely against the letter-learned clergymen of the Church of England. Every day do I see the necessity of speaking out more and more. God knows my heart, I do not speak out of resentment. I heartily wish the Church of England was the joy of the whole earth; but I cannot see her sinking into papistical ignorance, and refined Deism, and not open my mouth against those who, by their sensual, lukewarm lives, and unscriptural, superficial doctrines, thus cause her to err."

Every day Whitefield was becoming more and more a Dissenter. The Rev. Ralph Erskine was the head of a sect of Dissenters who had recently seceded from the Church of Scotland. He and Whitefield were already friendly correspondents. Erskine's letter to Whitefield (mentioned in the above extract) is lost, but Whitefield's answer is preserved. The following is a part of it:—

"London, July 23, 1739.

"Reverend and Dear Sir,—Yesterday, with great pleasure, I received your kind letter. I was afraid lest I should have offended you. If this should be the case at any time, reprove me sharply, and I shall thank you with my whole heart. I bless God that my sermons are approved of by you. I am but a novice in the school of Christ; but my Master enlightens me more and more every day to know the exceeding great riches and freedom of His grace to all who believe in Jesus Christ.

"By this time, I hope you have seen my journal, and have given thanks for what great things God has done for my soul. An appendix will be printed shortly. The success of the gospel increases daily. Opposition, also, increases daily; but as opposition abounds, so does my inward consolation. A sermon of mine is now being printed, which will disturb the pleasure of preferment-loving clergy, more than ever. Mr. Wesley has not yet received your letter. He will readily correspond with you. He fights the Lord's battles, as doth his brother, most courageously. A noble reformation is begun among Kingswood colliers, near Bristol. I am now collecting money for building them a school-house. My tenderest affections await all the Associate Presbytery.[232] I am opposed for owning you; but to deny our Lord's disciples, in my opinion, is denying Christ Himself. Providence detains me here. Pray write, by next post, to, rev. and dear sir, yours most affectionately in the bowels of Christ,

"George Whitefield."[233]

Mr. Erskine's reply was of enormous length, filling ten printed octavo pages. Brief extracts from it must suffice here.

"Dunfermline, August 21, 1739.

"Reverend and very dear Sir,—I have now read your journals and sermons, and I can assure you, with reference to the whole work in general, and the main scope of it, my soul has been made to magnify the Lord for the very great things He has done for you and by you. If I speak of any things wherein we differ, it shall only be to shew the greatness of my love to you, and also to prevent after mistakes."

Erskine then proceeds to express a hope that there will be "a happy union in the Lord" between the Oxford Methodists and the Associate Presbytery, "not only in a private and personal, but even in a more public and general way." He affirms, truly enough, that "England's reformation from Popery, and its superstitious and ceremonial services, however great and glorious, was far from being so full as that of Scotland;" and he trusts, that "when a new and general reformation shall be set on foot, more of the rags of the Romish Church will be dropped, such as many useless rites and customs relating to worship, which have no scriptural foundation."

Erskine next criticises Whitefield's Journal. In reference to his fellowship with Quakers, the Scotch Reformer says: "Whatever duties of love you perform towards these men, I will never believe you mean or intend to justify their principles and delusive notions."

On the subject of secession, Erskine writes:—

"You say that so long as the Articles of the Church of England are agreeable to Scripture, you resolve to preach them up, without either bigotry or party zeal. This is the case with us. We preach up and defend, doctrinally and judicially, those Articles of the Church of Scotland, agreeable to the Scriptures, which the judicatories are letting go. Hence, I conclude, you are just of our mind, as to separation from an established Church. We never declared a secession from the Church of Scotland, but only a secession from the judicatories, in their course of defection from the primitive and covenanted constitution, to which we stood bound by our ordination engagements."

Whitefield's sermons are next examined, and objectionable sentiments and sentences pointed out. Erskine concludes his long letter thus:—

"I see much of the glory and majesty of God, and many of the stately steps and goings of our mighty king Jesus, in your sermons and journals; and have, with tears of joy, adored His name for what He is doing for you and by you. When I consider how you and your brethren are stirred up of God to such a remarkable way of witnessing for Him in England, against the corruptions and defections of that Church; and when we of the Associate Presbytery have been called forth in a judicial way to witness against the corruptions and defections of the Church of Scotland; and both at a juncture, when Popish powers are combining together against us, and desolating judgments are justly threatened from heaven, there is, perhaps, more in the womb of Providence relating to our several situations, and successes therein, than we are aware of. What He doth we know not now, but we may know hereafter.

"We have lately been attending several sacramental solemnities in our brethren's congregations, where vast multitudes of people were assembled at the tents without doors, as well as in the church; and I never found more of the presence of God than on some of these occasions. The Spirit of God was sometimes remarkably poured out. Enemies gnash with their teeth, but the Lord carries on His work. My brethren salute you most affectionately. They love and respect you in the Lord. I salute the worthy Sewards and Wesleys in the Lord.

"I am, rev. and dear sir, yours most affectionately in our blessed Immanuel,

"Ralph Erskine."[234]

To return to Whitefield's Journal. He writes:—

"Monday, July 23. Preached this evening at Hackney Marsh, to about two thousand people. I prayed and discoursed for above two hours, and with greater demonstration of the Spirit than ever. Every day have I more and more reason to rejoice in what God has done for my own and others' souls. Thousands at the great day will have reason to bless God for field-preaching.

"Tuesday, July 24. Despatched my private affairs, and preached in the evening at Kennington Common, to about fifteen thousand.

"Wednesday, July 25. Preached this evening at Edmonton. The congregation was large and attentive, and I rejoiced in having an opportunity of offering salvation freely to the rich.

"Thursday, July 26. Preached to upwards of ten thousand at Hackney Marsh, in a field where was to be a horse-race. I had the opportunity of bearing my testimony against such unchristian entertainments. Very few left the sermon to see the race, and some of those soon returned. By the help of God, I will still go on to attack the devil in his strongest holds. The common people go to these diversions for want of knowing better.

"Friday, July 27. Preached at Kennington Common, to my usual number of hearers. Went to Lewisham.

"Saturday, July 28. Visited the family of Justice Delamotte at Blendon, where we exhorted and built up each other in the knowledge and fear of God. Preached at Blackheath in the evening, and came home rejoicing.

"Sunday, July 29. Preached this morning in Moorfields, to a much larger congregation than we had last Sunday,[235] and collected £24 9s.[236] for the school at Kingswood. Received the sacrament at St. Paul's, and preached at Kennington Common in the evening, where £20 was collected. God sent us a little rain, but that only washed away the curious hearers. Nearly thirty thousand stood their ground.

"Monday, July 30. Was busied all the morning in directing those to believe in Jesus Christ, who came asking me what they should do to be saved? Preached at Plaistow. An uncommon power was in the congregation.

"Tuesday, July 31. Preached at Newington, near Hackney, to about twenty thousand people.

"Wednesday, August 1. Preached this evening at Marylebone Fields, to near thirty thousand, and went afterwards to take my leave of Fetter Lane Society. We parted in love.

"Thursday, August 2. Preached at Newington, to upwards of twenty thousand people, and came home rejoicing to see what a great work God has done in this city.

"Friday, August 3. Spent the day in completing my affairs and taking leave of my dear friends. Preached in the evening, to near twenty thousand, at Kennington Common. I chose to discourse on St. Paul's parting speech to the elders at Ephesus, and concluded with a suitable hymn; but could scarce get to the coach, for the people's thronging me, to take me by the hand, and give me a parting blessing.

"Saturday, August 4. Went in the morning to Deptford; prayed, sung psalms, and gave a word of exhortation at two or three houses. Preached at Blackheath, to about ten thousand, and went to Blendon.

"Sunday, August 5. Expounded, prayed, and sung psalms at Mr. Delamotte's door, with many who came last night from London. Read prayers and assisted in administering the sacrament to several hundred communicants in Bexley Church. Preached in the afternoon, to about fifteen hundred, in Justice Delamotte's yard; and again in the evening, to about twenty thousand, at Blackheath.

"Monday, August 6. Preached in the evening at Chatham, to near ten thousand people.

"Tuesday, August 7. Preached in the evening at Blackheath. It rained very much the whole day; but there were about two thousand present. I discoursed on the conversion of Zaccheus the publican.

"Wednesday, August 8. At Deptford, went on board the ship; which we now hallowed by the word of God, and prayer. Preached at Blackheath, to near twenty thousand people, on the Pharisee and the Publican.

"Thursday, August 9. Preached at Blackheath, to a very large congregation, and went and lay on board the ship, in order to be ready to finish my affairs in the morning.

"Friday, August 10. Finished my ship business, and preached in the evening at Blackheath, to a yet greater congregation than ever.

"Saturday, August 11. Began in the spirit of meekness to answer the Bishop of London's Pastoral Letter. Preached in the evening at Blackheath.

"Sunday, August 12. Preached, early in the morning, to some hundreds, in Justice Delamotte's yard, most of whom came thither last night, singing and praising God. Read prayers, heard a truly Christian sermon from Mr. Piers, and assisted him in administering the blessed sacrament, in his own church, to near six hundred communicants. Preached at three in the afternoon, to near three thousand, in Mr. Delamotte's yard, and to about twenty thousand at Blackheath. At each place, the people were exceedingly affected; and, at Blackheath, when I said, 'Finally, brethren, farewell!' thousands immediately burst into strong crying and tears. I continued my discourse till it was nearly dark, and collected nearly £15 for Kingswood School.

"Monday, August 13. Finished, and sent to the press, my answer to his lordship's Pastoral Letter. Rode with many of my dear weeping friends to Erith; took my final and sorrowful farewell, and went from thence in a boat, with my dear fellow-travellers to Gravesend, where our ship was fallen down. Blessed be God for detaining me in England by the embargo. Many others, as well as myself, I hope, have reason to rejoice thereat.

"Tuesday, August 14. About eight last night, got on board the Elizabeth, Captain Stevenson commander, bound from England to Philadelphia. After much entreaty, went to Gravesend, and read prayers, and preached in Mitton Church, near the town. Returned to the ship by eight in the evening, and was much rejoiced at retiring from the world."

And well he might. Eight months had elapsed since his return from America to England. Strange had been his history. Unquestionably, it is without a parallel. Much has been related; but much remains untold. In the above condensed extracts from his journal, the reader has seen how Whitefield spent his last few weeks in England. He was full of joy, thankfulness, and hope; though all the while most bitterly attacked both by the pulpit and the press. In his letters he writes:—

"Matters go on most bravely in London. I think people are ten times more affected than ever.[237] A great work of God is doing here. The Lord Jesus gets Himself the victory everyday. Free grace compels poor sinners to come in. As for my own soul, God often gives me such foretastes of His love, that I am almost continually wishing to be dissolved, that I may be with Christ.[238] Had I a hundred hands, I could employ them all. The harvest is very great. I am ashamed I can do no more for Him who hath done so much for me. Every day affords fresh instances of the power of His word. I am now about to attack Satan in one of his strongholds, if I perish. To-night I preach, God willing, where a horse-race is to be. I find my Master strengthens me for the work.[239] Methinks, I could now sing my Nunc Dimittis with pleasure, if my eyes could see my dear brother's salvation. I hope you have conversed with Mr. Wesley. It will require some degree of boldness to own either of us before men. God vouchsafes to honour us: no wonder our names are cast out as evil.[240] I rejoice there is a revival of true religion in Scotland. The Spirit of God is moving thousands of souls in England. God will work, and all oppositions must forward, but not hinder it. I am no friend to sinless perfection. I believe the being (though not the dominion) of sin remains in the hearts of the greatest believers. At the call of Christ, I am now going abroad, and expect to suffer many things before I return home."[241]

It is a remarkable fact, that, in Whitefield's sermons, the first time he prominently refers to his doctrine of election, is in the sermon he preached at Stoke Newington, on July 31, from Genesis iii. 15.[242] In the same sermon, he also alludes to what, in the extract just given, he designates "sinless perfection." These were the principal points on which he and his friend Wesley afterwards differed. Perhaps it is difficult to determine, with certainty, the cause of his adopting these Calvinistic tenets; but it is a curious coincidence, that he had recently entered into a hearty correspondence with the Rev. Ralph Erskine, and that, within the last two months, he had read Erskine's sermons.[243] In the "Life of Sir Richard Hill," it is stated that Whitefield was not a Calvinist until he went to America, in 1739. It was there, "he caught the tone and imbibed the opinions of the great, the searching, but too gloomy Jonathan Edwards. His 'Treatise on the Will' was too deep a book for Whitefield, and the probability is, that the author himself was somewhat out of his own depth when he wrote it.[244] No wonder that when Whitefield first came into contact with Edwards, he 'winced a little under his metaphysical probe;' but, at last, he adopted his Calvinistic views, though it may be fairly doubted if he ever fully understood them."[245] This is partly, but not perfectly correct. There can be no doubt that, in America, Whitefield "caught the tone and imbibed the opinions of Edwards;" but Whitefield was inclined to Calvinistic doctrines before he met with Edwards, and it is almost certain that he "imbibed" these from the sermons of his friends in Scotland, Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine. Whitefield's Calvinism was suddenly born in England, about the month of June, 1739; but it was cradled and greatly strengthened in America, during the year 1740. From first to last, it was a confused sort of thing. Even the Calvinistic author of the "Life of Sir Richard Hill" justly acknowledges that "it may be fairly doubted" whether Whitefield ever fully understood the Calvinism which he preached. To the end of life, his theological erudition was comparatively small. His forte was, not to discuss and defend "the five points," but, with a full heart, to warn the wicked of their sin and danger, and to lead and bring them to the all-sufficient Saviour. His throne was the pulpit, not the professor's chair. He missed his way when he became the defender of the philosophical niceties of the Calvinian creed. Like Jonathan Edwards, he "was somewhat out of his own depth." I must be excused for saying, once for all, he was led into error. I totally disbelieve his Calvinian doctrines. But, having said as much as this, and whilst sorrowing that his embracing those doctrines should have occasioned a temporary breach of the friendship existing between him and Wesley, it is an unquestionable fact that this opened to Whitefield a wide field of usefulness, which, without it, neither he nor Wesley could have occupied. Without this, Whitefield could not have had the sympathy and co-operation of the Presbyterians and Independents of America. It was this that prepared the way for his popularity in Scotland. But for this, he would have lacked the important patronage of the Countess of Huntingdon. This was one of the prime sources of the immense influence he exercised over Hervey, Berridge, Romaine, Venn, and many other contemporaneous clergymen of the Church of England; and it also, to an untold extent, enabled him to move and quicken the Dissenting ministers and congregations of the land.

In the foregoing extracts from Whitefield's Journals, some of the sermons he preached are specified. Most of these were published; and a few brief selections from them will, perhaps, best convey an idea of the peculiarities of Whitefield's ministry at this important period of his life.

On July 31, at Stoke Newington, his text was Genesis iii. 15, and the following are two extracts from the sermon:—

"We must take care of healing before we see sinners wounded. Sinners must hear the thunderings of Mount Sinai, before we bring them to Mount Zion. They who never preach the law, it is to be feared, are unskilful in delivering the glad tidings of the gospel. Every minister should be a Boanerges, a son of thunder, as well as a Barnabas, a son of consolation. There was an earthquake and a whirlwind before the still small voice came to Elijah. We must first shew people they are condemned, and then shew them how they must be saved."

The next quotation is a good specimen of Whitefield's fiery denunciation:—

"Are there any enemies of God here? The promise of the text encourages me to bid you defiance. What signifies all your malice? You are only raging waves of the sea, foaming out your own shame. For you, without repentance, is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever. The Lord Jesus sits in heaven, ruling over all, and causing all things to work for His children's good. He laughs you to scorn. He hath you in the utmost derision, and therefore, so will I. Who are you that persecute the children of the ever-blessed God? Though a poor stripling, the Lord Jesus, the seed of the woman, will enable me to bruise your heads."

In the sermon, at Blackheath, on August 7, respecting the conversion of Zaccheus, the following passages occur:—

"I should think it no scandal to hear it affirmed, that none but the poor attended my ministry. Their souls are as precious to our Lord Jesus Christ as the souls of the greatest men. They were the poor that attended Him in the days of His flesh; these are they whom He hath chosen to be rich in faith, and to be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Were the rich in this world's goods generally to speak well of me, woe be unto me! I should think it a dreadful sign that I was only a wolf in sheep's clothing; that I spoke peace, peace, when there was no peace; and prophesied smoother things than the gospel would allow. Hear ye this, O ye rich! Let who will dare to do it, God forbid that I should despise the poor! In doing so, I should reproach my Maker. The poor are dear to my soul."

The next paragraph is an ample reply to the accusation that Whitefield's preaching led to licentiousness:—

"What has been said of Zaccheus may serve as a rule whereby to judge whether you have faith or not. You say you have faith; but how do you prove it? Are you influenced by the faith, you say you have, to stand up and confess the Lord Jesus before men? Were you ever made willing to own, and humble yourselves for, your past offences? Does your faith work by love, so that you conscientiously lay up, according as God hath prospered you, for the support of the poor? Do you give alms of all things that you possess? And have you made due restitution to those you have wronged? If you are not thus minded, do not deceive yourselves. Though you may talk of justification, like angels, it will do you no good; it will only increase your damnation. You hold the truth, but it is in unrighteousness. Your faith, being without works, is dead. You have the devil, not Abraham, for your father. Unless you get a faith of the heart, a faith working by love, with devils and damned spirits shall you dwell for evermore."

On August 8, at Blackheath, Whitefield preached on the Pharisee and Publican. Three extracts must suffice. The first contains Whitefield's views on the use of forms of prayer, and praying extemporary. Speaking of the Pharisee, he says:—

"He did not pray by form. His was an extempore prayer; for there are many Pharisees who pray, and preach too, extempore. I do not see why these may not be acquired, as well as other arts and sciences. A man with a good elocution, ready turn of thought, and good memory, may repeat his own and other men's sermons, and may pray seemingly excellently well, and yet not have the least grain of true grace in his heart. I speak this, not to cry down extempore prayer, or to discourage those who really pray by the Spirit. I would only hereby give a word of reproof to those who are so bigoted to extempore prayer, that they condemn all who use forms, as though not so holy and heavenly, as others who pray without them. Alas! this is wrong. Not every one that prays extempore is a spiritual, nor every one that prays with a form, a formal man. Let us not judge one another. Let not him who uses a form judge him who prays extempore, on that account; and let not him who prays extempore despise him who uses a form."

The next quotation is on the prayer of the Publican, and is a good example of the pith and point of Whitefield's preaching:—

"Methinks, I see him standing afar off, pensive, oppressed, and even overwhelmed with sorrow. He smites upon his breast, his treacherous, ungrateful, desperately wicked breast—a breast now ready to burst; and at length, out of the abundance of his heart, and with many tears, cries out, 'God be merciful to me a sinner!' Not, God be merciful to yonder proud Pharisee! Not, God be merciful to me a saint! for he knew 'all his righteousnesses were as filthy rags.' Not, God be merciful to such or such an one; God be merciful to me, even to me a sinner,—a sinner by birth,—a sinner by thought, word, and deed,—a sinner as to my person,—a sinner as to all my performances,—a sinner in whom is no health, in whom dwelleth no good thing,—a sinner, poor, miserable, blind, and naked,—a self-accused, self-condemned sinner. What think you? Would this publican have been offended, if any minister had told him he deserved to be damned? Would he have been angry, if any one had told him, that, by nature, he was half a devil and half a beast? No; he would have confessed a thousand hells to have been his due; and that he was an earthly, devilish sinner."

The next extract is one of Whitefield's terrible declamations;—

"Hear this, all ye self-justiciaries, tremble, and behold your doom! a dreadful doom, more dreadful than words can express, or thoughts conceive! If you refuse to humble yourselves, after hearing this parable, I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that God shall visit you with all His storms, and pour all the vials of His wrath upon your rebellious heads. You exalted yourselves here, and God shall abase you hereafter. You are as proud as the devil, and with devils shall you dwell to all eternity. Notwithstanding you come up to the temple to pray, your prayers are turned into sin, and you go down to your houses unjustified. And, if you are unjustified, the wrath of God abideth upon you. You are in your blood. All the curses of the law belong to you. Cursed are you when you go out; cursed are you when you come in; cursed are your thoughts; cursed are your words; cursed are your deeds. Everything you do, say, or think, from morning to night, is only one continued series of sin. However highly you may be honoured in the Church militant, you will have no place in the Church triumphant. 'Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God.' Pull down every self-righteous thought, and every proud imagination, that now exalteth itself against the perfect, personal, imputed righteousness of the dear Lord Jesus. 'For he,' and he alone, 'that humbleth himself, shall be exalted.'"

No wonder that fiery eloquence like this attracted notice; and no wonder that it brought upon the preacher the fierce censures of his enemies. The Weekly Miscellany was more furious than ever. The following are specimens of its outpourings:—

On July 7, there was a long letter "to the Rev. Mr. Seagrave," in which Whitefield and his friends were accused of causing "all the miseries attending those poor, weak wretches and their families, who, by the woes and curses denounced on them in default of raising their imagination to the pitch of enthusiasm, had been driven into a belief of their certain damnation, and, consequently, into all the horrors of despair and distraction."

On July 21, the leading article, filling nearly two folio pages, says:—

"The novelist in religion passes with me either for a fool or a knave. These things frequently begin in want of sense, but always end in want of honesty. To keep attention and prevent satiety, false religion is continually changing its dress, as in masquerades, varying its voice, and accommodating its motions, according to all the mazes of error and sportive turns of madness and folly. It gives the rein to every licentious humour, or practises amazing austerities; it distorts the limbs, and screws the features; it laughs, it sings, it weeps, it screams, it groans, it raves in streets, bawls on commons, preaches from walls, and carts, and stools, and windows; expounds, prays, exclaims. The enthusiast is now a quietist, and does nothing; and, anon, in perpetual motion, and never at rest. Sometimes, he is a meteor, which just flashes and disappears; and, sometimes, a direful comet, seen for a long time, and carrying mischief and destruction in the sweep of his tail."

The article proceeds to stigmatise Whitefield as follows:—

"Behold, on yonder eminence, the preacher, with admiring, subscribing crowds about him. 'He is young.' Good! 'How innocent he looks.' Better! 'He has no human learning.' Best of all! 'He knows everything without labour, without study.' Prodigious! See! he spreads his hands, and opens his lips as wide as possible. Hark! Hark! he talks of a sensible new birth! Then, belike, he is in labour, and the good women around him are come to his assistance. He dilates himself,—cries out,—the hill swells into a mountain,—and parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Well: he is, at last, delivered; he has felt the new birth; and damns all that have not."

The learned lampooner calls Whitefield "a modern prating youth," "a visionary Anticle, in a gown and cassock;" and proceeds to say:—

"It is quite impossible to be serious with buffoons in religion, and mountebanks in theology; to dispute with a creature, who disclaims sense, and is below argument. He holds forth from the stairs of a wind-mill, and never was exceeded, but by the Knight of de la Mancha flying on the sails of it. He has formed a society of females, who are to confess their love affairs one to another, and to take care there shall be a supply of new Methodists for future generations. He has collected, without letters, patents, license, or protection, larger sums than usually appear upon any gaming table; and, yet, has incurred no penalty by it. If this fund be employed for the purpose given out, the Orphan House is like to exceed all the palaces in Europe. Supposing this humour to go on, I know nothing the growling clergy have to do, but to leave sense and honesty, their little pulpits and less incomes; and to bawl profitable exclamations, with great enlargement, on commons, and get thousands by it. In short, we must put a stop to this sharping trade of the Methodists; or we must all, man, woman, and child, join in the plunder with them."

On August 4, nearly an entire page was used in defending Dr. Trapp, and abusing Whitefield. In reference to Whitefield's exclamation, "O that my head were waters," etc., the writer sneeringly remarks:—

"If his eyes were as full of tears as his heart could wish, what a glorious man he would be to preach a funeral sermon! And if his head were an ocean, he would certainly drown all his congregation, even though he were to preach on Kennington Common."

On August 11, the editor, Mr. Hooker, wrote nearly two pages, in defence of Dr. Stebbing and Dr. Hammond, on the new birth, and, of course, in denouncing Whitefield and his friends:—

"Some Methodists," says he, "have made their boasts that they are become fools for Christ's sake, in which there is something of truth that they do not intend. But, if they think it commendable to be fools for Christ, I hope they will never think it tolerable to be knaves for Him too."

The Weekly Miscellany continued, almost without interruption, these coarse attacks, to the end of 1739; but one added extract must suffice. On December 29, nearly two pages of the newspaper were filled with a violent philippic against Whitefield as a Dissenter. The writer says:—

"Whitefield has been attacked as an enthusiast, and often as a teacher of false and pestilent doctrine; but not often as a Dissenter."

Having adduced proofs that Whitefield was ipso facto a Dissenter, the article proceeds:—

"He runs about the world, preaches, prays, exhorts, expounds, and does what he lists, where he lists, and how he lists; sets at nought his diocesan wherever he comes; and does all, not only independently, but, in defiance of him. This is your Church of England minister! An independent churchman! A perfect original! The first of the kind! He has thrown off the liturgy of the Church of England, and gives the people nothing but his extempore effusions in its stead. He not only uses, but magnifies and extols, at a great rate, extempore prayer, to beget in people a disesteem of all forms."

The writer then adverts to Whitefield's patronising the preaching of Howell Harris, the layman, and says:—

"The Dissenters are fond of him; but not a man among them has the grace to go out into the highways and hedges, and compel poor sinners to come in. None of them ever would, or will now, supply, in his absence, his place, in Moorfields, or on Kennington Common. Not they. They would never so much as sit, like some of ours, in their proper habits, while he was preaching, some on his right hand and some on his left, to do him honour before the people. But they would breakfast, dine, and eat a little supper with him. They would partake of his entertainments, or entertain him themselves in their own houses, and treat him most courteously, not only to engage him to speak handsomely of them in his journals, but to encourage him; to clap him on the back, and bid him go on in the glorious work he had undertaken. But let them take care. Proximus ardet. Enthusiasm runs like wildfire, and, though it begins in the Church of God Established, it may not stop there, but may run among, and consume their own churches."

Among the London newspapers, the Weekly Miscellany was the most rabid of Whitefield's opponents; but, occasionally, others of them had slashing articles against the young evangelist. For instance, the Craftsman, of September 8, in a serio-comic article, propounds "A Scheme of a new Court of Judicature, in which Methodists are to preside." The members of the court were to be four-and-twenty in number, "with an archon at the head of them: the first archon to be the most excellent and industrious Mr. Whitefield, or, in his absence, the ingenious Mr. Wesley; and the four-and-twenty to be chosen from among the Methodists on Kennington Common." They were to be provided with food and clothing; the clothing of each member was to cost £2 6s. 8¹⁄₂d. per year; the diet 2³⁄₄d. per day; and the stipend was to be £2 a year, which would "be sufficient to buy them books of devotion."

Besides attacks like these in the public papers, Whitefield was severely censured in private conversation and correspondence. The Rev. William Law was a man of distinguished piety and talent; and his writings had been of eminent service to Whitefield and his friends. Again and again, they sought his counsel; and, speaking generally, he had always shewn them kindness. But even Mr. Law now turned against the young evangelist. On August 10, Charles Wesley waited upon him, and wrote:—

"He blamed Mr. Whitefield's journals, and way of proceeding; said he had had great hopes that the Methodists would have been dispersed, by little and little, into livings, and have leavened the whole lump. Among other things, he said, 'Were I so talked of as Mr. Whitefield is, I should run away, and hide myself entirely.' 'You might,' I answered, 'but God would bring you back like Jonah.'"[246]

Dr. Warburton, an attorney's son, born at Newark-upon-Trent, was now rising into fame. He had recently published the first volume of his great work on "The Divine Legation of Moses," and, twenty years afterwards, was made bishop of Gloucester. In two letters, to the Rev. Mr. Birch, one dated "September 16, 1738," and the other, "September 10, 1739," Warburton says:—

"I have seen Whitefield's Journal, and read it with great curiosity. The poor man is quite mad. His honesty, as you say, is very conspicuous. The best way of exposing these idle fanatics would be to print passages out of George Fox's Journal, and Ignatius Loyola, and Whitefield's Journals, in parallel columns.[247] Their conformity in folly is amazing. One thing was extremely singular in Loyola: he became, from the modestest fanatic that ever was, the most cold-hearted knave, by the time his Society was thoroughly established. The same natural temperament, that set his brains on a heat, worked off the ferment. The case was so uncommon that his adversaries thought all his fanaticism pretended. But, in this, they were certainly mistaken. The surprising part of all was, that his folly and knavery concurred so perfectly to promote his end. If I be not mistaken in Whitefield, he bids fair for acting the second part of Loyola, as he has done the first."[248]

Another private letter, by a very different personage, will be read with interest. The celebrated Countess of Hertford, afterwards Duchess of Somerset, writing to the Countess of Pomfret, then on the continent, remarks:—

"I do not know whether you have heard of our new sect, who call themselves Methodists. There is one Whitefield at the head of them, a young man under five-and-twenty, who has, for some months, gone about preaching in the fields and market-places of the country; and in London, at Mayfair and Moorfields, to ten or twelve thousand people at a time. He went to Georgia, and returned to take priest's orders, which he did; and, I believe, since that time, hardly a day has passed that he has not preached, and generally twice. At first, he and some of his brethren seemed only to aim at restoring the practice of the primitive Christians, as to daily sacraments, stated fasts, frequent prayers, relieving prisoners, visiting the sick, and giving alms to the poor; but, upon sound ministers refusing these men their pulpits, they have betaken themselves to preaching in the fields; and they have such crowds of followers, that they have set in a flame all the clergy of the kingdom, who represent them as hypocrites and enthusiasts. As to the latter epithet, some passages in Mr. Whitefield's latest journals seem to countenance the accusation; but, I think, their manner of living has not afforded any grounds to suspect them of hypocrisy. The Bishop of London, however, has thought it necessary to write a pastoral letter, to warn the people of his diocese against being led away by them; though, at the same time, he treats them personally with great tenderness and moderation. I cannot say, Dr. Trapp has done the same, in a sermon which he has published, entitled, 'The Great Folly and Danger of being Righteous over-much,' a doctrine which does not seem absolutely necessary to be preached to the people of the present age."[249]

The pamphlets published, for and against Whitefield, were more than ordinary people had time to read. The following is as complete a list, for the year 1739, as, perhaps, it is possible to furnish:—

1. "A Defence of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield."

2. "An Expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield."

3. "A Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. Designed to correct his mistaken Account of Regeneration, or the New Birth." By Tristram Land, M.A.

4. "The Nature, Folly, Sin, and Danger of being Righteous over-much." By Joseph Trapp, D.D.

5. "The Nature, Usefulness, and Regulation of Religious Zeal." By Joseph Trapp, D.D.

6. "Dr. Trapp Tried and Cast; and allowed to the 10th of May next to Recant." By Jonathan Warne.

7. "An Answer to the Rev. Dr. Trapp's four Sermons against Mr. Whitefield." By Robert Seagrave, M.A.

8. "A Congratulatory Letter to the Rev. Dr. Trapp: occasioned by his four Sermons against Enthusiasm." By T. S——y, Esq.

9. "A Caution against Religious Delusion. A Sermon on the New Birth: occasioned by the Pretensions of the Methodists." By Henry Stebbing, D.D.

10. "The Doctrine of Assurance: a Sermon, by Arthur Bedford, M.A."

11. "The Nature and Proper Evidence of Regeneration." By Ralph Skerret, D.D.

12. "The Trial of the Spirits; or, a Caution against Enthusiasm, or Religious Delusion, in opposition to the Methodists. A Sermon preached before the University of Oxford, by John Wilder, M.A."

13. "St. John's Test of knowing Christ, and being born of Him. A Sermon preached in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, by Charles Wheatley, M.A."

14. "A Letter to the Bishops, in relation to Mr. Whitefield."

15. "True Character of Mr. Whitefield."

16. "Enthusiasm Explained."

17. "Narrative of the Life of Mr. Whitefield."

18. "A Dialogue between Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Garnor."

19. "The Mock Preacher."

20. "Enthusiasm no Novelty; or, the Spirit of the Methodists in the years 1641 and 1642."

21. "The Conduct of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield vindicated from the Aspersions and Malicious Invectives of his Enemies."

22. "The Pious Youth. Addressed to Mr. Whitefield."

23. "The Accomplished Methodist."

24. "An Earnest Appeal to the Public in relation to Mr. Whitefield."

25. "The Case between Mr. Whitefield and Dr. Stebbing."

26. "The Bishop of London's Pastoral Letter to the People of his Diocese, by way of Caution against Lukewarmness on the one hand, and Enthusiasm on the other."

27. "A Supplement to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Answer to the Bishop of London's last Pastoral Letter." By a Presbyter of the Church of England.

28. "Observations on the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Answer to the Bishop of London's last Pastoral Letter." By a Curate in the country.

29. "Remarks on the Bishop of London's Pastoral Letter." By Robert Seagrave.

30. "Letter to the Bishop of London, on his late Pastoral Letter and Mr. Whitefield's Answer."

31. "Methodism Displayed; or, Remarks on Mr. Whitefield's Answer to the Bishop of London's last Pastoral Letter. In a Letter to Mr. Whitefield; or, in his absence, to any of his Abettors." By James Bate, M.A.

32. "An Earnest Appeal to the Public; on occasion of Mr. Whitefield's extraordinary Answer to the Pastoral Letter of the Bishop of London: Intended to vindicate his Lordship from the extravagant charges, and mean evasions contained in the said pretended Answer; and to detect the true spirit and design of its Author, from his notorious inconsistence with himself, his disregard of the Church by whose authority he preaches, and his treatment of those whom that Church hath constituted his superiors. Addressed to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley (Mr. Whitefield being absent)."

33. "A short Preservative against the Doctrines revived by Mr. Whitefield and his Adherents: being a Supplement to the Bishop of London's late Pastoral Letter." By a Curate of London.

34. "A Letter to the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of London, occasioned by his Lordship's late Pastoral Letter and Mr. Whitefield's Answer." By Philalethes.

35. "Anti-Methodism Displayed."

36. "A Compleat Account of the Conduct of that eminent Enthusiast, Mr. Whitefield."

37. "A Letter to Robert Seagrave, M.A." By Timothy Scrubb.

38. "A Letter, from an English Brother of the Moravian Persuasion, to the English Methodists."

39. "A Plain Address to the Followers and Favourites of the Methodists."

40. "The Amorous Humours of one Whitefield."

41. "The Methodists: a Humorous Burlesque Poem; addressed to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield and his Followers: proper to be bound up with his Sermons, and the Journals of his Voyage to Georgia," etc.

42. "The Life and particular Proceedings of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By an Impartial Hand."

43. "Observations on the Remarks of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Journal, and on the Rev. Mr. Tristram Land's Letters," etc.

44. "The Dreadful Degeneracy of a great part of the Clergy, the Means to promote Irreligion, Atheism, and Popery; to which is prefixed a Letter to the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield."

45. "Judging for Ourselves; or, Free-thinking, the great Duty of Religion. Displayed in two Lectures, by P. Annet. Addressed to the New Sect of Methodists, all Faith-mongers, and Bigots. With a Poem to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield."

46. "Observations and Remarks on Mr. Seagrave's Conduct and Writings. In which his Answer to the Rev. Dr. Trapp's four Sermons is more particularly considered."

47. "A faithful Narrative of the Life and Character of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, B.D., from his Birth to the Present Time: containing an Account of his Doctrines and Morals, his motives for going to Georgia, and his Travels through several parts of England."

48. "An expostulatory Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, and the rest of his Brethren, the Methodists of the Church of England; wherein the Rites and Ceremonies of that Church are considered; and the partiality of those Gentlemen, with regard to the practice of them, condemned."

49. "A Defence of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Doctrine of Regeneration, in Answer to the Rev. Mr. Land. Designed to correct his Mistakes, to wipe off his Aspersions, and to prevent his doing Mischief among the People. By a Member of one of the Religious Societies."

This long list of publications, all issued in the year 1739, is abundant proof of the commotion created by young Whitefield and the Methodists. A few, but only a few, were written in defence of Whitefield. The last mentioned was one. In the same category must be placed the two pamphlets by Mr. Seagrave, one of which has been already noticed. No. 47 in the list is also favourable to Whitefield, and is a well-written production. No. 21 is an extravagant eulogium on Whitefield, and a violent attack on the clergy of the Established Church. "Whitefield," says the writer, "has set them an example, which they must, in some measure, follow. But for him, they could have gone on in their old way as well as ever; and their corn, and their wine, and their pigs, and their eggs, and their apples would have come in as usual. All besides is unnecessary trouble; and they detest the man who has put them upon it." No. 27 also is favourable, but contains little that is worth noticing. "Dr. Trapp Tried and Cast," by Jonathan Warne, tells the Doctor that "there is more profound divinity in one of Whitefield's sermons, than in the whole of his four discourses." "The Letter to the Bishop of London," by Philalethes, was also a mild, but not remarkable, defence of Whitefield. No. 43 is a rather elaborate apology for some of Whitefield's unguarded sayings, and is ably written. "The Dreadful Degeneracy of a great part of the Clergy," by Jonathan Warne, is a long production of more than a hundred octavo pages. It is, however, more a defence of the doctrines Whitefield preached, than of Whitefield himself.

Out of the forty-nine publications, whose titles have been given, not more than about ten can be regarded as at all favourable to the young preacher. The rest were antagonistic, and, in many instances, extremely virulent. In illustration of this, a few extracts, almost promiscuously selected, must suffice.

Tristram Land, after declaring that Whitefield "cannot be exceeded by the warmest-headed Quaker in the kingdom," proceeds to say: "It is commonly reported you seldom converse with the clergy of the Church of England, though you are pleased to visit Dissenting teachers, and often mix with the younger part of the laity of all denominations." Mr. Land further accuses Whitefield of "rudeness to the whole body of" the Clergy; of "bringing contempt upon the Liturgy;" of "creating misunderstandings between the parochial clergy and their people;" of "raising causeless doubts and scruples in the minds of some well-disposed Christians;" and of "encouraging the practice of conventicling in several parts of London."

Dr. Stebbing, in his Sermon on the New Birth, sneeringly observes:—

"Mr. Whitefield, who had his orders among us, and still professes himself a member of the Church of England, tells us of some conversations he had with Quakers, in his journeyings. It seems they could not agree about the use of the sacraments and the payment of tithes; but, says he, 'I think their notions about walking and being led by the Spirit are right and good.' The young man, you perceive, is in a very hopeful way! He is a Quaker already in the first and leading principle of that sect; and, as to his scruples about tithes, etc., they may abate as he grows better acquainted with his associates."

In "the Life of Whitefield, by an Impartial Hand," the young preacher is accused, by the Rev. J. Tucker, of "propagating blasphemous and enthusiastical notions." Mr. Tucker dolorously adds:—

"Some of Mr. Whitefield's followers have insulted and reviled me in passing along the streets; and declared that they looked upon me as the enemy of God and His religion. This was owing to Mr. Whitefield's pointing at me so often in his prayers, and describing me in his harangues to the populace." Mr. Tucker further relates, that, "to gain credit with the populace, Whitefield often had in his mouth at Bristol this dreadful imprecation, 'If what I say be not strictly true, may all that ever heard me, may you that now hear me, and all that shall hear me hereafter, rise up in judgment against me, and rejoice at my damnation!'"

Mr. Wilder, in his Sermon "preached before the University of Oxford, August 5, 1739," abounds in abusive epithets, which need not be quoted; but two or three extracts will be useful as displaying the fiery, fuming spirit of this university preacher; and the animosity with which Whitefield was regarded.

"I cannot dismiss this point, without taking notice of the indecent, false, unchristian reflections cast on the clergy of our Church, charging them with popery and perjury, than which nothing is more unjust, except the cruel mercies of those, who pass sentence of damnation upon all who have not the same spiritual pride, vanity, and enthusiasm as themselves."

"He" (Whitefield) "is but a young son of the prophets, yet, if we will take his word for it, he is as much inspired, and felt the Holy Ghost at imposition of hands, as much as Elisha did, when Elijah dropped his mantle. Nay, he has the modesty to compare himself, in his labours and afflictions, with the great apostle of the Gentiles, and even with the Son of God Himself."

"Let us hear what this inspired man saith of the new birth. We find, from his writings, that the new birth is a conversion and change wrought in the mind of a man, by a sensible operation of the Spirit of God; and that those who have not experienced some such sensible change, in their hearts, are not born again, nor in a state of salvation. If this be true, how few of all the millions of the professors of Christianity are there, that have been, or will be saved! Scarce any but the itinerant preacher, a few of his followers, and some Quakers. If this doctrine be true, how is the God of all mercy and goodness, the God of love, comfort, and joy, turned into a cruel and tyrannical being, that delights not to save, but to destroy mankind!"

"That they" (the Methodists) "teach doctrines inconsistent with, and destructive of Christianity, appears from their encouraging religious exercises, to the neglect of other Christian duties. How many, while they run gaping after the spiritual food which these rambling teachers pretend to distribute to them from heaven, leave their business at random, and their families to want the necessary food of this life; not considering that it is their duty to attend, at the appointed seasons, on the services and ordinances of God, under their proper pastors, not in highways, in fields, or commons, but in those places which are set apart for, and dedicated to, God's honour and worship."

"His" (Whitefield's) "boasting of the Lord's assisting him to lift up his voice like a trumpet, makes me believe, that, rather than return to a sober mind, and leave the field, to preach sound doctrine in our churches, he is resolved to make his voice the trumpet of war; and reduce, if possible, this Church and State to anarchy and confusion: as it was effected once in the last century, when by a successful rebellion begun, fomented, and carried on, by the like spiritual enthusiasts, the life of the best of kings was barbarously taken away; the best of monarchies changed into a democracy; and this truly apostolical Church wounded, mangled, and, by papists and puritans, crucified, like our Saviour, between two thieves."

Such are fair specimens of the sermon which Mr. Wilder[250] "preached before the University of Oxford." Young Whitefield was far from perfect; and, certainly, the same may be said respecting his rebukers.

The Rev. Charles Wheatley, in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, was less violent in his language than Mr. Wilder; but, in foot-notes, gives unguarded extracts from Whitefield's Journals, and exclaims, "Was there ever such a medley of vanity, and nonsense, and blasphemy jumbled together?" In his sermon, also, he speaks of the Methodists, as "assuming to themselves, upon all occasions, the peculiar language of the Holy Ghost; equalling themselves, in everything they do, to prophets and apostles; and boasting of immediate inspirations and extraordinary communications with God; and, in proof of it, laying a blasphemous claim to greater miracles than ever were performed by our blessed Saviour Himself." Mr. Wheatley's sermon and foot-notes were almost altogether levelled against Whitefield.

In another pamphlet (No. 28), "A Curate in the Country" writes:—

"I believe Mr. Whitefield set out with a zeal for God, though a mistaken one. The pulpits were then open to him, in confidence that he would preach nothing contrary to the Gospel; but when his mistakes were more known, and when his errors were so notorious that even charity could not but see them; and when, to propagate these errors, he claimed the chair, visiting every church, and violently taking possession of their pulpits, it was the duty of the clergy to check the spreading evil, and refuse him the liberty of misleading their people in their own churches. This he calls being turned out of our synagogues, and complains of it as a hardship. Who made him universal pastor? Who committed to him the care of all the churches? Do such complaints become a meek disciple of Christ? Is such behaviour the mark of a dutiful and true son of the Church of England? What ill consequences may we not dread from so bold an invader, from so unreasonable a separatist?"

"A Curate in London" (in Pamphlet No. 33) writes:—

"Let us not be carried away by pretences—'tis hard to say to what. Pretences! of weak and heated men, such as have, in all the different ages of the Church, built up a faith of their own, always to the prejudice, frequently to the ruin, of that once delivered to the saints."

In "Methodism Displayed," by the Rev. James Bate, M.A., Rector of St. Paul's, Deptford, there is an almost unceasing reiteration of charges of pride, pertness, and impudence.

The "Compleat Account of that eminent Enthusiast, Mr. Whitefield" (No. 36) tells its readers, that this "extraordinary itinerant had lately made a progress into the western parts of England, and some parts of Wales, where, from tombstones, and market-crosses, on commons and mountains, he had preached to vast numbers of ignorant people, and, since his return to London, in a wide place near a building" (Bedlam) "which would suit him much better." "He had succeeded the mountebank in Moorfields, pretty near the place where the White Bear exhibits himself to public view every day (but Sundays). From the wall, instead of a stage, he harangued his congregation, and, by the choice of his text, most blasphemously compared himself, after his usual custom, to our blessed Saviour."

From Pamphlet No. 46 the following is taken:—

"Mr. Whitefield behaved at first in part like a clergyman, but never altogether so. Then he was looked upon as an impudent bold man; but since as a wicked man. When, though an ecclesiastic, he opposed all ecclesiastical maxims, and ran counter to all authority of the Church, he was deemed a novelist; but when he daringly pleaded the impulse of the Holy Spirit for these irregular proceedings, he was then, with equal justice, deemed an enthusiast. Whether he is an impostor, God only knows."

After asserting that Whitefield has "sunk the house of God below a play-house, and turned religion into a farce," the writer adds:—

"I think it beyond all contradiction that he is in practice a Dissenter. He has long thought fit to renounce the Liturgy of the Church of England, and to pray extempore in his own words. The more we consider his words and works, the more will he appear an enthusiast, a blasphemer, and a wavering, wandering preacher of no establishment. He at first touched upon the Church, but transgressed its order, so as not to continue in it. At present, he seems near attached to the Dissenting communion, though he does not omit to blend his notions with a good spice both of the Roman Catholic and the Mahometan."

All this wrathful outpouring was bad enough; but one of the most ribald publications against Whitefield was (No. 41) "The Methodists: an Humorous Burlesque Poem, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield and his Followers." Some parts of this foul production cannot be quoted with decency. Two extracts, both relating to Whitefield, must suffice. After describing the devil's journey from Rome to Oxford, the scurrilous poetaster writes:—

"On holy Pembroke's ragged top
He first of all did choose to stop;
There spread his dusky dew around,
To quite unconsecrate the ground;
Then to his fav'rite Whitefield flies;
But first, because he'd not surprise
One to his heart and mind so dear,
He chose his horrid form to clear.
He straightway shod his cloven foot,
Pull'd off his horns and all to boot;
Then dress'd him in a student's gown,
And, thus equipp'd, to George went down.
He found the dinner on the table,
All eating fast as they were able,
(For Methodists still love to eat,
And always fondly praise a treat.)"

The following are the last lines of this disgraceful production:—

"Hail, O saint Whitefield, ape of grace,
Thou holy sinner, with a formal face;
Like a young pelican, with stomach good,
Prey on thy mother's vital blood;
The place that foster'd thee despise,
And by enthusiasm rise;
Content thyself to lead the throng,
And charm the vulgar right or wrong.
When Trapp, with solid, lasting sense,
Displays thy fatal influence,
Stare thou the reverend preacher in the face,
And squint and fleer at all he says:
Let boys and girls thy foll'wers be,
While men of sense thy converse flee:
Religion's sacred name degrade,
And sink thy calling to a trade.
For orphans, charity—always,
By fictitious means the money raise;
Rob masters of their servants' time,
And rifle beauty in its prime;
Make wives their husbands rob, and then
Sing them a hymn, and rob ag'n.
Preach, chatter, throw thy arms, and prate,
Be formal as thou canst, and cheat;
But know, howe'er you've form'd your plan,
The moral is the honest man."

More than enough of this. Only one other of the attacks on Whitefield can be noticed. This, however, was the most authoritative and serious. Edmund Gibson, D.D., was a man of great ability and learning, a laborious student, and one whose piety, it is said, was equal to his erudition. He had now reached the age of three-score years and ten, was Bishop of London, and Whitefield's diocesan. It is no mean proof of the enormous excitement created by young Whitefield and his friends, that this venerable and distinguished man deemed it his duty to enter the lists against them. He had already published three Pastoral Letters, "in defence of the Gospel-revelation, and by way of preservative against the late writings in favour of Infidelity." He now, on August 1, issued a fourth, with the title, "The Bishop of London's Pastoral Letter to the People of his Diocese; especially those of the two great Cities of London and Westminster; by way of Caution, against Lukewarmness on one hand, and Enthusiasm on the other." (8vo. 55 pp.) Before the year was ended, this letter passed, at least, through three editions. Nineteen pages were devoted to "lukewarmness;" the remainder to "enthusiasm." The charges brought against the Methodists are nine in number; and it is a remarkable fact, that all of them are supported, exclusively, by quotations from Whitefield's loosely worded Journals. The charges against Whitefield and his friends are these:—1. A claim to extraordinary communications with God, and more than ordinary assurances of a special presence with them. 2. Talking in the language of those who have a special and immediate mission from God. 3. Professing to think and act under the immediate guidance of a Divine inspiration. 4. Speaking of their preaching and expounding, and the effects of them, as the sole work of a Divine power. 5. Boasting of sudden and surprising effects as wrought by the Holy Ghost, in consequence of their preaching. 6. Claiming the spirit of prophecy. 7. Speaking of themselves in the language, and under the character, of apostles of Christ, and even of Christ Himself. 8. Professing to plant and propagate a new Gospel, as unknown to the generality of ministers and people, in a Christian country. 9. Endeavouring to justify their own extraordinary methods of teaching, by casting unworthy reflections upon the parochial clergy, as deficient in the discharge of their duty, and not instructing their people in the true doctrines of Christianity.

In support of these accusations, not fewer than ninety quotations are made from Whitefield's Journals; but, excepting one in proof of the last-mentioned allegation, there are none which are not capable of an interpretation widely different from that supplied by Bishop Gibson. No doubt, many are unfortunately expressed.[251] In not a few, there is a semblance of ostentation, and even of religious pride, which all educated and sober-minded Christians will condemn. But, while honestly admitting such facts as these, it is preposterous to affirm that either Whitefield or the Wesleys ever made pretensions like those ascribed to them by the conscientious bishop of the London diocese. He thought they did; but he was prejudiced and mistaken.

Whitefield was impulsive, and pre-eminently a man of action. The Bishop's Pastoral Letter is dated, "August 1, 1739." On August 11, Whitefield began his answer to the bishop's pamphlet; and, two days afterwards, sent it to the press. It was composed at Blendon, and is one of the smartest productions of his pen; its style firm, but quiet and respectful; its language pure, pointed, forcible, and without the diffusiveness which often characterised Whitefield's writings. He had no assistance from the Wesleys, for John was in the west of England, and Charles in London. The celerity with which it was written deserves notice; for, during the two days and a half devoted to it, Whitefield preached four sermons, read prayers once, and, in Bexley church, assisted in administering the sacrament to nearly six hundred persons. The title was, "The Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Answer to the Bishop of London's last Pastoral Letter." (8vo. 28 pp.) Want of space precludes the insertion here of copious extracts. It is enough to say, 1. That, Whitefield distinctly and truthfully affirms, "I never did pretend to the extraordinary operations of the Holy Spirit. I only lay claim to His ordinary gifts and influences." 2. That, so far from setting aside the teaching of the Established Church, he says, "My constant way of preaching is, first, to prove my propositions by Scripture, and then to illustrate them by the Articles and Collects of the Church of England. Those who have heard me can witness how often I have exhorted them to be constant at the public service of the Church; I attend on it myself; and would read the public Liturgy every day, if your lordship's clergy would give me leave."

It is only fair to add, that, Whitefield honestly meets all the charges brought against him; and that, upon the whole, his "Answer" is complete and victorious.

This was Whitefield's only reply to the scores of antagonistic pamphlets published during the year 1739. In the same year, however, he issued a considerable number of other publications, of which the following is a list:—

1. "A Journal of a Voyage from London to Savannah in Georgia. In two parts. Part I. From London to Gibraltar. Part II. From Gibraltar to Savannah. With a short Preface, shewing the reason of its publication." 8vo. 55 pp.

2. "A Continuation of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Journal, from his Arrival at Savannah to his return to London." 8vo. 38 pp.

3. "A Continuation of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Journal, from his Arrival at London to his Departure thence on his way to Georgia." 8vo. 115 pp.

4. "A Continuation of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield's Journal, during the time he was detained in England by the Embargo." 8vo. 40 pp.

5. "An Account of Money, received and expended by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, for the Poor of Georgia." 8vo. 23 pp.[252]

These five publications have been so freely used in the foregoing pages as to render further description unnecessary.

In the same year, 1739, appeared, 1. "Sermons on Various Subjects. In two Volumes." (12mo. 161 and 150 pp.) And, 2. "The Christian's Companion; or, Sermons on Several Subjects." (12mo. 335 pp.) The sermons, however, contained in these volumes were partly sermons already published in the years 1737 and 1738; and partly sermons found in the following list,[253] and published separately.

1. "Directions how to hear Sermons. A Sermon preached at Christ's Church in Spitalfields, London." 8vo. 18 pp.

2. "Worldly Business no Plea for the Neglect of Religion. A Sermon preached at the Parish Church of St. Lawrence, Old Jewry, London." 8vo. 17 pp.

3. "Satan's Devices. A Sermon preached at Great St. Helen's, London." 8vo. 25 pp.

4. "The Marks of the New Birth. A Sermon preached at the Parish Church of St. Mary, Whitechapel, London." 8vo. 23 pp.

5. "The Knowledge of Jesus Christ, the best Knowledge. A Sermon preached at Great St. Helen's, London." 8vo. 18 pp.

6. "The Power of Christ's Resurrection. A Sermon preached at Werburgh's, in the city of Bristol." 8vo. 20 pp.

7. "The Duty of Searching the Scriptures. A Sermon preached at St. Michael, Cornhill." 8vo. 19 pp.

8. "The Folly and Danger of being not Righteous enough. A Sermon preached at Kennington Common, Moorfields, and Blackheath." 8vo. 34 pp.

9. "The Necessity of the Righteousness of Christ. A Farewell Sermon preached at Moorfields, June 3, 1739." 8vo. 25 pp.

10. "The Care of the Soul urged as the One Thing Needful. A Sermon preached on Kennington Common, May 19, 1739." 8vo. 35 pp.

11. "Watching, the peculiar Duty of a Christian.[254] A Sermon preached at Mary-le-bone, Moorfields, and Kennington Common." 8vo. 25 pp.

12. "An Exhortation to come and see Jesus.[255] A Sermon preached at Moorfields, May 20, 1739." 8vo. 14 pp.

13. "Jesus Christ the only Way to Salvation. A Sermon preached on Kennington Common." 8vo. 24 pp.

14. "Prayers on Several Occasions."[256] 8vo. 24 pp.

15.[257] "Faith acts above Reason, proved from the Example of Abraham, in offering up Isaac. And the great Folly of Races. A Sermon preached at Hackney-Marsh, during the time of the Horse-Races."[258] 8vo. 19 pp.

16. "Christ the Support of the Tempted. A Sermon preached at Blackheath." 8vo. 23 pp.

17. "Christ the only Rest for the Weary and Heavy-laden. A Sermon preached at Kennington Common." 8vo. 21 pp.

18. "God's free Grace in the Salvation of Sinners, proved from the Conversion of St. Paul. A Sermon preached at Newington."[259] 8vo. 34 pp.

19. "The Polite and Fashionable Diversions of the Age, destructive to Soul and Body. A Sermon preached at Blackheath." 8vo. 31 pp.

20. "The Observation of the Birth of Christ, the Duty of all Christians; or, the true way of keeping Christmas. A Sermon preached at Bristol." 8vo. 21 pp.

21. "A New Heart, the best New Year's Gift, and Repentance the only Way to obtain it. A Sermon preached at Bristol." 8vo. 35 pp.

22. "The great Duty of Charity recommended, particularly to all who profess Christianity. A Sermon preached at Kennington Common, and at Gloucester," etc. 8vo. 25 pp.

23. "Christ the only Preservative against a Reprobate Spirit. A Sermon preached at Blackheath." 8vo. 29 pp.

24. "The Serpent's Beguiling Eve explained, considered, and applied to all under Temptation. A Sermon preached at Blackheath, Newington," etc.[260] 8vo. 29 pp.

25. "The Folly and Danger of Parting with Christ for the Pleasures and Profits of Life. A Sermon preached at Kennington Common." 8vo. 33 pp.

26. "Christ the best Husband: or, an earnest Invitation to Young Women to come and see Christ. A Sermon preached to a Society of Young Women in Fetter Lane." 8vo. 28 pp.

27. "The Danger of Man resulting from Sin, and his Remedy by Christ considered. A Sermon preached on Kennington Common." 8vo. 34 pp.[261]

The whole of these twenty-seven publications were "printed for C. Whitefield, London."

From an account book, in which Whitefield entered the times and places of his ministerial labours, it appears that, during his remarkable career, he preached upwards of eighteen thousand sermons.[262] Of these, only eighty-one have been printed; and even this number includes eighteen preached during the last seven years of Whitefield's life, and which can hardly be regarded as authentic, inasmuch as they were taken in shorthand as delivered from the pulpit, and were printed without Whitefield's revision, consent, or knowledge. This reduces the number of his authentic discourses to sixty-three. By these, the public have been accustomed to form their opinions of Whitefield as a theologian and a preacher; and, because the sermons are, in many respects, exceedingly defective, the judgments pronounced respecting Whitefield's intellectual culture, biblical learning, and literary skill, have not been favourable. This is an unintended injustice to his character and fame. How stands the case?

During his lifetime, Whitefield prepared about sixty-three of his sermons for the public press. Of these, twenty have been already noticed in the foregoing pages. Add to these the twenty-six sermons, included in the list just given, and all preached during the year 1739, and it will be found, that, of the sixty-three authentic sermons, printed in Whitefield's collected works, at least forty-six were preached, and committed to the press, before he was twenty-five years of age. Is it fair that Whitefield's sermonising abilities should be determined by these juvenile productions?

Want of space renders it impossible to enlarge upon the remaining twenty-six sermons not already noticed; and yet, as the year, in which these sermons were delivered, was, in many respects, the most important period of Whitefield's life, a few extracts, even at the expense of wearying the reader, must be given.

Spiritual Pride.—"To check all suggestions to spiritual pride, let us consider that we did not apprehend Christ, but were apprehended of Him; that we have nothing but what we have received; that the free grace of God has alone made the difference between us and others; that were God to leave us to the deceitfulness of our own hearts, but one moment, we should become weak and wicked like other men; that being proud of grace is the most ready way to lose it; and that were we endowed with the perfections of seraphims, if we were proud of those perfections, they would but render us more accomplished devils." (Sermon on Satan's Devices.)

Catholic Spirit.—"When we confine the Spirit of God to this or that particular church, and are not willing to converse with any but those of the same communion, this is to be righteous over-much with a witness; and so it is to confine our communion within church walls, and to think that Jesus could not be in a field, as well as on consecrated ground. This is Judaism; this is bigotry; this is like Peter, who would not go to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, till he had a vision sent from God. The Spirit of God is the centre of unity; and wherever I see the image of my Master, I never enquire of them their opinions: I ask them not what they are, so they love Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth; but embrace them as my brother, my sister, and my spouse. This is the spirit of Christianity. Many persons who are bigots to this or that opinion, when one of a different way of thinking has come where they were, have left the room or place on that account. This is the spirit of the devil; and, if it were possible that these persons could be admitted into heaven with these tempers, that very place would be a hell to them. Christianity will never flourish till we are all of one heart and of one mind. This may be esteemed as enthusiasm and madness, and as a design to undermine the Established Church: no, God is my judge, I should rejoice to see all the world adhere to her Articles. I am a friend to her Articles. I am a friend to her Homilies. I am a friend to her Liturgy; and, if they did not thrust me out of their churches, I would read them every day; but I do not confine the Spirit of God there, for, I say it again, I love all that love the Lord Jesus Christ." (Sermon on the Folly and Danger of not being Righteous enough.)

Innocent Diversions.—"They talk of innocent diversions and recreations. For my part, I know of no diversion but that of doing good. If you can find any diversion which is not contrary to your baptismal vow, of renouncing the pomps and vanities of this wicked world; if you can find any diversion which tends to the glory of God; if you can find any diversion which you would be willing to be found at by the Lord Jesus Christ, I give you my free license to go to them. But if, on the contrary, they are found to keep sinners from coming to the Lord Jesus Christ; if they are a means to harden the heart, and such as you would not willingly be found in when you come to die, then, my dear brethren, keep from them. Many of you may think I have gone too far, but I shall go a great deal farther yet. I will attack the devil in his strongest holds, and bear my testimony against our fashionable and polite entertainments. What pleasure is there in spending several hours at cards? Is it not misspending your precious time, which should be spent in working out your salvation with fear and trembling? Do play-houses, horse-racing, balls, and assemblies tend to promote the glory of God? Would you be willing to have your souls demanded of you while you are at one of those places? What good can come from a horse-race, from abusing God Almighty's creatures, and putting them to a use He never designed them? The play-houses are nurseries of debauchery, and the supporters of them are encouragers and promoters of all the evil that is done there. They are the bane of the age, and will be the destruction of the frequenters of them. Is it not high time for the true ministers of Jesus Christ to lift up their voices as a trumpet, and cry aloud against the diversions of the age? If you have tasted of the love of God, and have felt His power upon your souls, you would no more go to a play than you would run your heads into a furnace. And what occasions these places to be so much frequented is the clergy's making no scruple to be at these polite entertainments themselves. They frequent play-houses; they go to horse-races; they go to balls and assemblies; they frequent taverns, and follow all the entertainments that the age affords; and, yet, these are the persons who should advise their hearers to refrain from them. They always go disguised, for they are afraid of being seen in their gowns and cassocks; for their consciences inform them that it is not an example fit for the ministers of the gospel to set." (Ibid.)

"Those, my brethren, are not weary and heavy-laden with a sense of their sins, who can delight themselves in the polite entertainments of the age. Now they can go to balls and assemblies, play-houses and horse-racing. They have no thought of their sins. They know not what it is to weep for sin, or humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. They can laugh away their sorrows, and sing away their cares. They are too polite to entertain any sad thoughts, and the talk of death and judgment is irksome to them, because it damps their mirth. They could not go to a play, and think of hell. They could not go quietly to a masquerade, and think of their danger. They could not go to a ball, if they thought of their sins. But, at the day of judgment, all will be over. All their carnal mirth, all their pleasure, all their delight, will be gone for ever. They think now that if they were to fast, or to pray, and meditate and mourn, they would be righteous over-much. Their lives would be a continual trouble, and it would make them mad. Alas! my brethren, what misery must that life be, where there are no more pleasant days, no more balls, or plays, no cards, or dice, no horse-racing, and cock-fighting! How miserable will your life be when all your joys are over, when your pleasures are all past, no more mirth, or pastime! Do you think, my brethren, there is one merry heart in hell? one pleasing countenance? or jesting, scoffing, swearing tongue? A sermon now is irksome. The offer of salvation, by the blood of Jesus Christ, is now termed enthusiasm; but there you would give a thousand worlds for one offer of mercy, which now you so much despise. Now you are not weary of your diversions, nor heavy-laden with the sins with which they are accompanied; but then you will be weary of your punishments. Your cards and dice, your hawks and hounds, your bowls and pleasant sports, will then be over! What mirth will you have in remembering them!" (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary and Heavy-laden.)

"What good can proceed from play-houses, where God is profaned, the devil honoured, your time misspent, your souls endangered? Dare any of you who profess Christianity, frequent these places? Would you be willing to be found at a play, or reading one, when God demands your souls? If so, why do not you, when upon a sick or dying bed, instead of sending for a minister to pray with you, send for a comedian to comfort you through the dark valley of the shadow of death? But though these things are so destructive, our learned Rabbins do not warn the people of their danger. No; they are too great frequenters of them themselves. If you come to hear a sermon, your families are ruined, they are neglected. This is the cry of the Pharisees of this generation; but if you spend six times the time at a play-house, at a ball, at an assembly, at cards, dice, or any of their polite entertainments, nothing is said then against ruining your families, or losing your business. But, my brethren, ask yourselves which will be best, at a dying hour, to think you spent so much time at a play, a ball, or a neighbouring place of vanity;[263] or of hearing the word of God from a poor despised field-preacher? from a mountebank? from a babbler, as the world is pleased to term me? You may call this enthusiasm, if you like; but I speak the truth, I lie not; these diversions, these innocent, polite, fashionable entertainments of the age, are only hurrying the infidels, who attend them, faster to hell. What is the common language of these polite entertainments, but the language of hell? What are their frequent prayers, but for damnation? Will these polite and fashionable entertainments bring you to Jesus Christ? Will they make you sensible of the need you have of Him? Can you see the necessity of being born again, by following horse-racing, and by seeing a poor abused creature carrying its rider faster into hell? But what makes these places to be the more frequented, is, the clergy make no scruple about being there themselves. They neglect the work of their calling. Their sermons are but a week's study to please the ears of the people, or to advance their own reputation. If they were here, I, a boy, would tell them to their face that they do not preach the doctrines of the Reformation; that they feed not their hearers with food convenient for them. No: Seneca, Cicero, Plato, or any of the heathen philosophers would preach as good doctrine as we hear in most of our churches. Our ministers subscribe to their Articles, and think no more about them. They use them as a key to get preferment; and, when they have got it, they put the key into their pockets. Many, very many of our clergy, know no more of regeneration than Nicodemus did, when he came to Christ by night. To talk of feeling the Spirit of God, is esteemed as nonsense; and persons have been forbidden the sacrament only for reading my books; but, as my books and sermons are agreeable to the doctrines of Jesus Christ, I dare venture my salvation on the truth of them." (Sermon on the Polite and Fashionable Diversions of the Age.)[264]

"The clergy charge us with being over-righteous; but let them take care lest they are not over-remiss. Let them examine their own lives before they condemn others for enthusiasts. It is manifest that their actions are unbecoming of Christians, and more especially of ministers of the Church of England. They make no scruple of frequenting taverns and public-houses. They make no conscience of playing several hours at billiards, bowls, and other unlawful games, which they esteem as innocent diversions. Plurality of livings, and not the salvation of your souls, is the aim, the chief aim, of many, very many, of our present clergy. They have quite forsaken the good old way, and brought up a new one which their fathers knew not. They don't catechise. They don't visit from house to house. They don't watch over their flocks, by examining their lives. They keep up no constant religious conversation in families under their care. No, my brethren, these things are neglected; and if they were to be acted by any one, the person would be esteemed as an enthusiast, and as righteous over-much. We may justly cry to my letter-learned brethren, 'Physicians, heal yourselves.' Don't flatter yourselves that a long gown, and great preferment, authorise you to speak, write, or preach against the doctrines of our Lord Jesus Christ. No, my letter-learned, pleasure-seeking brethren, Jesus Christ, at the day of judgment, will judge you, not as doctors and rulers, but by the deeds done in the body, whether they be good, or whether they be evil. At the great day, we shall all be upon a level. No distinction there! No difference there! If they had preached Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth, I would not have opened my mouth against them; but when they exclaim, 'The temple of the Lord! the temple of the Lord!' and are building up the temple of the devil, if I were not to preach, the very stones would cry out. They may thrust me out of their churches, but they cannot thrust me from the Church of Christ. They are welcome to say what they please of me. They may cast me out, and say all manner of evil against me; yea, they may put me to death; but as my day is, so my strength shall be. I have a gracious Master, and into His hands I commit myself, and leave all my affairs to His wise discretion." (Sermon on Jesus Christ the only Way of Salvation.)[265]

It would be easy to multiply extracts like these; but, to exhibit more fully the character of Whitefield's preaching, a few of another kind must be introduced.

Self-Righteousness.—"How many are there who go to church, and say their prayers, and receive the sacrament, and give alms to the poor, and then think themselves good Christians, because they have done so; and when we tell them that all this will not do, they immediately cry out, we are preaching them to despair. But, O good God! Thou knowest that I wish I could bring all men off from this undoing delusion, that will but betray them into everlasting misery. It is because I know such persons are more odious, in the sight of God, than the vilest sinners, that makes me so earnest in warning them of their guilt and danger; for I have more hope of common swearers, drunkards, fornicators, Sabbath-breakers, and harlots, and of deists and infidels, than I have of such self-righteous Pharisees. It is against these that almost all our Saviour's parables are levelled. If you depend upon your own duties, you are but Pharisees and hypocrites, for hypocrites may do all this as the Pharisees did. There is no doubt that you are to do your duty; but, if you depend upon your duties, you make a Saviour of them, and deny the righteousness of our Lord Jesus Christ. You may go in an easy, decent, and polite way of religion, and obtain a reputation in the sight of men; but you are odious in the sight of God, and incarnate devils within." (Sermon on the Necessity of the Righteousness of Christ.)[266]

"O ye Pharisees, what fruits do ye bring forth? Why, you are moral, polite creatures. You do your endeavours, and Jesus is to make up the rest. You esteem yourselves fine, rational, and polite beings, and think it is too unfashionable to pray. It is not polite enough. Perhaps you have read some prayers, but knew not how to pray from your hearts. No, by no means! That was being righteous over-much! But if once, my brethren, you were sensible of your being lost, damned creatures, and see hell gaping ready to receive you, then, O then, you would cry earnestly unto the Lord to receive you, to open the door of mercy unto you. Your tones would then be changed. You would no more flatter yourselves with your abilities and good wishes. No: you would see how unable you were to save yourselves; that there is no fitness, no free-will in you: no fitness but for eternal damnation; and no free-will but that of doing evil. Ye Pharisees, who are going about to establish your own righteousness; who are too polite to follow the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth; who are all for a little show, a little outside work; who lead moral, civil, decent lives, Christ will not know you at the great day, but will say unto you, 'Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity, unto that place of torment, prepared for the devil and his angels.' Good God! and must these discreet, polite creatures, who never did any one harm, but led such civil, decent lives, must they suffer the vengeance of eternal fire? Cannot their righteous souls be saved? Where then must the sinner and the ungodly appear?" (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary.)

Warnings.—"O the folly and madness of this sensual world! O consider this, you who think it no crime to swear, whore, drink, or scoff and jeer at the people of God,—consider how your voices will then be changed, and how you will howl and lament at your own madness and folly. He, who is now your merciful Saviour, will then be your inexorable Judge. Now He is easy to be entreated; then all your tears and prayers will be in vain. Your wealth and grandeur will stand you in no stead. You can carry nothing of these into the other world. What horror and astonishment will then possess your souls! Then all your lies and oaths, your scoffs and jeers at the people of God, all your filthy and unclean thoughts and actions, will be brought at once to your remembrance, and at once be charged upon your guilty souls." (Sermon on a New Heart, the best New-Year's Gift.)

"Alas! our great men had much rather spend their money in a play-house, at a ball, an assembly, or a masquerade, than in relieving a poor distressed servant of Jesus Christ. They had rather spend their estates on their hawks and hounds, on their whores, and on their earthly, sensual, and devilish pleasures, than in comforting, nourishing, or relieving one of their distressed fellow-creatures. But what difference is there between the king on the throne and the beggar on the dunghill, when God demands their breath? There is no difference in the grave. There will be none at the day of judgment. You will not be excused because you have had a great estate, and a fine house, and have lived in all the pleasures that earth could afford you. You will be judged not according to the largeness of your estate, but according to the use you have made of it." (Sermon on the great Duty of Charity recommended.)

"Sinners! how fearful soever you may be of appearing before this tribunal, you will be obliged to do it. Then you will call for the rocks and mountains to fall upon you, to hide you from the face of the Lord God. Then you will see Him whom your sins have pierced. Then you will be called to answer for your revilings and mockings against the people of God. Then it will plainly appear who are the enthusiasts, and who the madmen. Then we shall see who have been fools, and who were the fitter for Bedlam." (Sermon on the Serpent's beguiling Eve.)

"Oh! brethren, it is a certain, but an awful truth, that your souls will be thinking and immortal beings, even in spite of themselves. They may indeed torment, but they cannot destroy themselves. They can no more suspend their power of thought and perception, than a mirror its property of reflecting rays that fall upon its surface. Do you suspect the contrary? Make the trial immediately. Command your minds to cease from thinking but for one quarter of an hour. Can you succeed in that attempt? Or rather, does not thought press in with a more sensible violence on that resistance; just as an anxious desire to sleep makes us so much the more wakeful? Thus will thought follow you beyond the grave. Thus will it, as an unwelcome guest, force itself upon you, when it can serve only to perplex and distress you. It will for ever upbraid you, that notwithstanding the kind expostulations of God and man, notwithstanding the keen remonstrances of conscience, and the pleadings of the blood of Christ, you have gone on in your folly, till heaven is lost, and damnation incurred; and all for what? for a shadow and a dream!" (Sermon on the Care of the Soul urged as the One Thing Needful.)

Entreaties.—"You all, my brethren, must be born again. You must feel yourselves lost and undone in yourselves, or there is no salvation for you in the Lord Jesus Christ. Men may be angry with me for telling you these things, and may come and carry me to prison, or to death; but my inward satisfaction at having been made instrumental of bringing any poor sinners home to Jesus Christ, I esteem more than a balance for all that I can suffer: If this is to be vile, I beg of God I may be yet more vile. If this is to be mad, I pray God I may be yet more mad, in my Master's cause. Let His own will be done in me, with me, by me, and upon me, so I may not be brought as a witness against you in the great day. As this is my last time of speaking to you, in this place, I would invite you the more earnestly to come to the Lord Jesus Christ. O do not lay the blame of your perishing upon our doctrine. Do not lay the fault upon us; for the Lord now sends His servants to call and invite you to Him; and if you still refuse both Him and us, what must I say? I must appear in judgment against you; and, oh! what shall I say? The very thought, methinks, chills my blood." (Sermon on the Necessity of the Righteousness of Christ.)

"I come to you, not with the enticing words of man's wisdom, but with plainness of speech. Perhaps many may slight me for this way of preaching; but I am not willing to go without you to Christ. It is a love for your better part that constrains me. O that I had ten thousand lives to give away, that I might win you to Christ! Had I the tongue of an angel, that I might speak so loud that the whole world could hear me, I would bid the Christian world preach a common salvation, a common Saviour, unto all who lay hold on Him by faith. Are you seeking where to wash? I tell you not to go to the river Jordan, but to the blood of Christ. You need not fear to go. Though He has given His grace to thousands, He has still enough. Come, ye publicans; come, ye harlots; come to Jesus Christ. O do not let me go without my errand. Do not force me to say, 'Who has believed my report?' I cannot bear the thought of it. I must lift up my voice, like a trumpet, begging you to lay down your arms, and to return home, that your loving Father may dress you in His spotless robe. Come and see whether Christ will make ample recompence for all, for more than all this world can give. Consider, if you do not, your damnation is from yourselves. Must I weep over you, as our Saviour did over Jerusalem? I beseech you, by all that is good and dear to you, do not cast away your souls for ever. O mind, in this your day, the things that belong to your peace, before they are for ever hidden from your eyes. Could I speak with the tongues of men or angels, with all the rhetoric possible, I could never tell the worth of Christ. He is a good Master; indeed He is. I wish all that hear me this day would lay hold on Him, by faith, and take Him on His own terms. Do not be angry with me for my love. How glad would I be to bring some of you to God! Come! He calls you by His ministers. Bring your sins with you, that He may make you saints. He will sanctify all who believe on Him." (Sermon on Watching, the peculiar Duty of a Christian.)

"Come, come unto Him. If your souls were not immortal, and you in danger of losing them, I would not thus speak unto you; but the love of your souls constrains me to speak. Methinks, this would constrain me to speak unto you for ever. Come, all ye drunkards, swearers, Sabbath-breakers, adulterers, fornicators! Come, all ye scoffers, harlots, thieves, and murderers; and Jesus Christ will save you. He will give you rest, if you are weary of your sins." (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary.)

"O fly, fly unto the Lord Jesus Christ. I invite you all to accept of Him. I offer Jesus Christ to the greatest profligate on earth. Surely, there are none can say, I preach damnation now. They cannot say I am sending you to hell now. No, my brethren, I preach salvation to all of you, who will come and accept the Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! I know not how to leave you, without some hopes of your coming to Him." (Sermon on Polite and Fashionable Diversions.)

"The devil shews men the bait, but hides the hook. He promises great wages; but his wages are really death here, and eternal damnation hereafter. If you want to know more what wages the devil gives his servants, you need not stir from the place where you now are. Look yonder,[267] and there you will see how he pays them. He seeks your souls to destroy them; but, my brethren, fear him not. Though he is your enemy, he is a chained one. He can go no farther than he is permitted. He could not hurt a herd of swine, till he had leave of Jesus Christ." (Sermon on the Danger of Man resulting from Sin.)

These are long extracts, at the end of an inconveniently long chapter; but, it must be borne in mind, that, the fame of Whitefield chiefly rests on his character as a preacher; and that there are only thirty-five of his published sermons which belong to dates subsequent to the year 1739; and that even more than half of these were taken from his lips, in shorthand, and printed without his revision or consent.

It is scarcely necessary to enlarge upon the foregoing extracts. The reader can form his own opinions of Whitefield's oratory, courage, tenderness, earnestness, and fidelity. He can also judge of the young preacher's imprudence, perhaps rudeness, in using language so violent concerning the clergy of the Established Church. One fact, however, must be noted. These sermons, as originally published, contain scarcely any allusion whatever to Calvinian tenets. Whitefield, no doubt, became a Calvinist; but this change in his theology did not occur, until he was about to embark, the second time, for Georgia. Indeed, though, in the seventeen sermons which remain unnoticed, and which were written and revised by Whitefield himself, there are passages embodying the doctrines of election and final perseverance; also passages on imputed righteousness and sinless perfection, propounding views not in harmony with those of his friend Wesley; yet such passages, comparatively speaking, are few in number, and are totally exempt from bitterness. It is also right to add, that, Whitefield's Calvinism never interfered with his warmhearted declarations concerning the universality of redeeming love, and the willingness of Christ to save all who come to Him. Doubtless there was some degree of inconsistency in this; but it only shews that the man's heart was larger than his creed.

Excepting two or three, there is nothing in the remaining seventeen sermons just mentioned which requires further notice. They are, however, in most respects, his ablest and his best. There is less incoherency of thought and language. There is an entire absence of attacks on the clergy of the Church of England. The style is more polished; the sentences more finished. There is more biblical and anecdotal illustration. And there is a greater depth of religious feeling and experience.

Excellent, however, as these sermons are, they necessarily fail to convey a full idea of Whitefield's marvellous preaching power. His words could be printed, but not his intonations, action, tears, smiles, solemnity, and pathos. Whitefield was born an orator. His oratory was the gift of his Creator. He could not be natural without using it. To have laid it aside would have been affectation. His oratory, however, is a thing not to be seen in his published sermons, but to be imagined. There was eloquence in his very attitudes, in the accents of his voice, in his gestures, in the features of his face, and in the motions of his hands. These things could not be printed. To say nothing of his almost unequalled voice, his versatility was wonderful. At will, he could be a Boanerges, or a Barnabas. One moment, he would thunder on Mount Sinai; the next, would whisper mercy on Mount Calvary. At all times, he was inexpressibly earnest, and his hearers felt he believed the truths he uttered. A writer, in the New York Observer, eloquently observes:—

"We read Whitefield's printed sermons, and they disappoint us. Of all men in the world, he was the last who should have published his sermons. So much did he owe to physical temperament, to the volume and varied intonations of his voice, to the irrepressible fires of a soul all alive to the grand and overpowering visions of divine truth, to a sort of inspiration kindled by the sight of thousands whose eyes were ready to weep and whose hearts were ready to break the moment his clarion voice rang out on their expectant ears—so much did he owe to these circumstances, that his eloquence cannot be appreciated by any account of it which can be given verbally, or be delineated on paper. Vain is it, therefore, to look into his printed sermons to find his power. His power as a pulpit orator, also, cannot be separated from his pious emotions, nor from his religious views. Had he embraced a theory of religion less emotional, more after the pattern of rationalists or ritualists, his eloquence would have been lost to the world. Never would his soul have taken fire, nor his lips glowed with the burning coal of enthusiastic passion. But he believed in man's ruin by sin, in the certain interminable woe that awaited the impenitent; in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, and the free offer of salvation through faith in the cross. Such were his views, and, under these convictions, he looked upon his audiences. He saw but one hope set before them, and with his whole soul moved and melted by the love of Christ on the one hand, and the love of souls on the other, he pressed every hearer, with all the energy of a dying man speaking to dying men, to accept the great salvation. Nor do we think that the pulpit can reach its appropriate power, nor for any length of time retain it, unless these grand cardinal doctrines of grace are the inspiring themes."

These remarks are as just as they are eloquent; but it is now time to follow Whitefield in his transatlantic wanderings.

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SECOND VISIT TO AMERICA.