The Journal of May 20th, contains a letter from Whitefield to a friend in England, dated New Brunswick, N. J., April 27. Of his visit to Charleston he says, "A glorious work was begun in the hearts of the inhabitants, and many were brought to cry out, 'What shall we do to be saved?' A fortnight ago, after a short passage of ten days, I landed in Pennsylvania, and have had the pleasure of seeing and hearing that my poor endeavors for promoting Christ's kingdom, when here last, were not altogether in vain in the Lord. I cannot tell you how many have come to me laboring under the deepest convictions, and seemingly truly desirous of finding rest in Jesus Christ. Several have actually received him into their hearts by faith, and have not only righteousness and peace, but joy in the Holy Ghost. In short, the word has run and been much glorified, and many negroes also are in a fair way of being brought home to God. Young ones I intend to buy, and do not despair of seeing a room full of that despised generation, in a short time, singing and making melody with grace in their hearts to the Lord.
"An effectual door is opened for preaching the everlasting gospel, and I daily receive fresh and most importunate invitations to preach in all the counties round about. God is pleased to give a great blessing to my printed sermons. They are in the hands of thousands in these parts, and are a means of enlightening and building up many in their most holy faith. The clergy, I find, are most offended at me. The commissary of Philadelphia, having gotten a little stronger than when I was here last, has thrown off the mask, denied me the pulpit, and last Sunday preached up an historical faith, and justification by works. But the people only flock the more. The power of God is more visible than ever in our assemblies, and more and more are convinced that I preach the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Some of the bigoted, self-righteous Quakers now also begin to spit out a little of the venom of the serpent. They cannot bear the doctrine of original sin, and of an imputed righteousness as the cause of our acceptance with God. I have not yet met with much opposition from the dissenters; but when I come to tell many of them, ministers as well as people, that they hold the truth in unrighteousness, that they talk and preach of justifying faith, but never felt it in their hearts, as I am persuaded numbers of them have not, then they no doubt will shoot out their arrows, even bitter words."
While on his voyage from Charleston to Newcastle, Whitefield seems to have devoted the 4th of April, 1740, to correspondence on the subject of marriage. "I find," said he, "by experience, that a mistress is absolutely necessary for the due management of my increasing family, and to take off some of that care which at present lies upon me." His letters were addressed to a young lady and her parents, connected with a family much devoted to piety. Here, as everywhere else, his heart is transparent. He says to the parents of Miss E——, "I write only because I believe it is the will of God that I should alter my state; but your denial will fully convince me that your daughter is not the person appointed for me. He knows my heart; I would not marry but for him, and in him, for ten thousand worlds."
The next year, having returned to England, Whitefield, like his eminent friend John Wesley, was married, and, like him also, was unhappy in his domestic relation. In each case, the husband exacted a previous pledge that the wife should never prevent the delivery of a single sermon; and this was followed by separation from the wife for weeks, months, or even years, in the prosecution of their arduous labors. In the case of Whitefield, his marriage in Wales, with a widow lady, in 1741, was followed by the birth of a son; previous to which event he had said, in the joy of his heart, that his name should be John, and that he should be a preacher of the everlasting gospel. The first prediction was realized, and when his child was a week old, the good man told his people in the Tabernacle, London, that he would live to preach, and "be great in the sight of the Lord." But alas, at the end of four months John died, and his father very wisely wrote in his journal: "I hope what happened before his birth, and since at his death, has taught me such lessons as, if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more sober-minded, more experienced in Satan's devices, and consequently more useful in his future labors in the church of God."
On the death of his wife somewhat suddenly, August 9, 1768, Mr. Whitefield himself preached her funeral sermon, from Romans 8:28: "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to his purpose." In describing her character, he particularly mentioned her fortitude and courage, and suddenly exclaimed, "Do you remember my preaching in those fields by the stump of the old tree? The multitude was great, and many were disposed to be riotous. At first I addressed them with firmness; but when a gang of desperate banditti drew near, with the most ferocious looks, and horrid imprecations and menaces, my courage began to fail. My wife was then standing behind me, as I stood on the table. I think I hear her now. She pulled my gown"—himself suiting the action to the word, by placing his hand behind him and touching his robe—"and looking up, said, 'George, play the man for your God.' My confidence returned. I again spoke to the multitude with boldness and affection; they became still; and many were deeply affected."
Before we leave Philadelphia, we may relate an instance or two as to the power of his eloquence. Dr. Franklin says, "He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words so perfectly that he might be heard and understood to a great distance; especially as his auditors observed the most profound silence. He preached one evening from the top of the court-house steps, which are in the middle of Market-street, and on the west side of Second-street, which crosses it at right angles. Both streets were filled with his hearers to a considerable distance. Being among the hindmost in Market-street, I had the curiosity to learn how far he might be heard by setting backwards down the street towards the river; and I found his voice distinct till I came near Front-street, where some noise in that street obstructed it. Imagine, then, a semicircle of which my distance should be a radius, and that it was filled with auditors, to each of whom I allowed two square feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty thousand people."
But not only does Franklin bear witness of Whitefield's eloquence as to his voice, but still more strongly as to its persuasiveness, of which, it seems, he was himself a striking illustration. He says, "I refused to contribute to his orphan-house in Georgia, thinking it injudiciously located. Soon after, I happened to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and determined to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there was also one of our club; who being of my sentiments respecting the building at Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before he came from home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbor, who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was made to, perhaps, the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, 'At any other time, friend Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses.'"
Whitefield, much as he loved Philadelphia, had now again to leave it. Thus writes the correspondent of the "New England Weekly Journal," at Newcastle, May 15: "This evening Mr. Whitefield went on board his sloop here, to sail for Georgia. On Sunday he preached twice In Philadelphia, and in the evening, when he preached his farewell sermon, it is supposed he had twenty thousand hearers. On Monday he preached at Darby and Chester; on Tuesday, at Wilmington and White Clay creek; on Wednesday, twice at Nottingham; on Thursday, at Fog's Manor and Newcastle. The congregations were much increased since his being here last. The presence of God was much seen in the assemblies, especially at Nottingham and Fog's Manor, where the people were under such deep soul distress, that their cries almost drowned his voice. He has collected in this and the neighboring provinces, about £450 sterling for his orphans in Georgia."
He arrived at Savannah June 5, and most interesting was the manner of his reception. He says, "O what a sweet meeting I had with my dear friends! What God has prepared for me, I know not; but surely I cannot well expect a greater happiness, till I embrace the saints in glory. When I parted, my heart was ready to break with sorrow; but now it almost bursts with joy. O how did each in turn hang upon my neck, kiss, and weep over me with tears of joy! And my own soul was so full of a sense of God's love when I embraced one friend in particular, that I thought I should have expired in the place. I felt my soul so full of a sense of the divine goodness, that I wanted words to express myself. Why me, Lord; why me? When we came to public worship, young and old were all dissolved in tears. After service, several of my parishioners, all my family, and the little children, returned home, crying along the streets, and some could not avoid praying very loud.
"Being very weak in body, I laid myself upon a bed; but finding so many weeping, I rose and betook myself to prayer again. But had I not lifted up my voice very high, the groans and cries of the children would have prevented my being heard. This continued for near an hour; till at last, finding their concern rather increase than abate, I desired all to retire. Then some or other might be heard praying earnestly, in every corner of the house. It happened at this time to thunder and lighten, which added very much to the solemnity of the night. Next day the concern still continued, especially among the girls. I mention the orphans in particular, that their benefactors may rejoice in what God is doing for their souls."