WHITEFIELD'S FIRST VISIT TO NEW ENGLAND.
SEPTEMBER TO NOVEMBER, 1740.
The religious state of New England in the early part of the eighteenth century, was little better than the description we have already given of the state of Great Britain and its other dependencies at that period. Dr. Prince tells us, that the first age of New England was one of an almost continual revival. Preaching was attended with so much power in some places, "that it was a common inquiry, by such members of a family as were detained at home on a Sabbath, whether any had been visibly awakened in the house of God that day." And he adds, "Few Sabbaths did pass without some being evidently converted, and some convincing proof of the power of God accompanying his word."
Dr. Increase Mather, writing towards the close of the seventeenth century, while he confirms the statements we have already given, bears farther testimony which is of a very painful character. He says, "Prayer is necessary on this account, that conversions have become rare in this age of the world. They that have their thoughts exercised in discerning things of this nature, have sad apprehensions that the work of conversion has come to a stand. During the last age scarcely a sermon was preached without some being apparently converted, and sometimes hundreds were converted by one sermon. Who of us now can say that we have seen any thing such as this? Clear, sound conversions are not frequent in our congregations; the great bulk of the present generation are apparently poor, perishing, and if the Lord prevent not, undone; many are profane, drunkards, lascivious, scoffers at the power of godliness, and disobedient; others are civil and outwardly conformed to good order, because so educated, but without knowing aught of a real change of heart." The same estimable writer says, in 1721, "I am now in my eighty-third year, and having had an opportunity of conversing with the first planters of this country, and having been for sixty-five years a preacher of the gospel, I feel as did the ancient men who had seen the former temple, and who wept aloud as they saw the latter. The children of New England are, or once were, for the most part, the children of godly parents. What did our fathers come into this wilderness for? Not to gain estates as men do now, but for religion, and that they might have their children in a hopeful way of being truly religious. There was a famous man who preached before one of the greatest assemblies that ever was addressed; it was about seventy years ago; and he said to them, 'I lived in a country seven years, and all that time I never heard a profane oath, or saw a man drunk.' And where was that country? It was New England. Ah, degenerate New England! What art thou come to at this day? How are those sins become common that were once not even heard of!"
Passing over, for the present, indications of a revival of religion, which had appeared in other parts of the country, we speak now only of New England. In 1734, a very extraordinary work of grace appeared at Northampton, Massachusetts, under the ministry of the distinguished Jonathan Edwards, the elder, the history of which is given in his admirable "Narrative of the surprising Work of God" at that period, in Northampton and the vicinity.
It is important to remark here, that the preaching which led to such delightful results was of the most faithful and pungent character. We will give one instance, as illustrative of many, as will be distinctly seen by those who have read Edwards' sermon, "Sinners in the hands of an angry God," or his "Justice of God in the damnation of Sinners." Perhaps, however, no sermon in New England has ever acquired greater celebrity, or accomplished more good, than the one preached by President Edwards at Enfield, July 8, 1741, from the words, "Their feet shall slide in due time." Deut. 32:35. "When they went into the meeting-house, the appearance of the assembly was thoughtless and vain; the people scarcely conducted themselves with common decency." But as the sermon proceeded, the audience became so overwhelmed with distress and weeping, that the preacher was "obliged to speak to the people and desire silence, that he might be heard." The excitement soon became intense; and it is said that a minister who sat in the pulpit with Mr. Edwards, in the agitation of his feelings, caught the preacher by the skirt of his dress, and said, "Mr. Edwards, Mr. Edwards, is not God a God of mercy?" Many of the hearers were seen unconsciously holding themselves up against the pillars, and the sides of the pews, as though they already felt themselves sliding into the pit. This fact has often been mentioned as a proof of the strong and scriptural character of President Edwards' peculiar eloquence—the eloquence of truth as attended by influence from heaven; for his sermons were read, without gestures.
But there was another element which must be taken into account when we look at the result of this sermon, as well as others delivered in like circumstances, and one which we fear has been often overlooked. "While the people of the neighboring towns were in great distress about their souls, the inhabitants of Enfield were very secure, loose, and vain. A lecture had been appointed there, and the neighboring people were so affected at the thoughtlessness of the inhabitants, and had so much fear that God would, in his righteous judgment, pass them by, that many of them were prostrate before him a considerable part of the previous evening, supplicating the mercy of heaven in their behalf. And when the time appointed for the lecture came, a number of the surrounding ministers were present, as well as some from a distance"—a proof of the prayerful interest felt on behalf of the town. In all this we see much of the secret of the powerful impression produced by that sermon, and are taught that in seasons when God seems about to pour out his Spirit on a community, Christians should be found "continuing instant in prayer."
In this more hopeful state of things than had long before existed in New England, Whitefield, who was now the second time in America, was most urgently entreated to visit the descendants of the Pilgrim fathers. He complied with the request, and arrived at Newport on the evening of the Sabbath, September 14, 1740. We furnish an account, written chiefly by himself, in his journal, published in London, 1741, a copy of which may be found in the library of Harvard University, to which we have had a kind access, and which is rich in what we may term Whitefieldian lore. He writes,
"Was sick part of the passage, but found afterwards the sea-air, under God, much improved my health. Arrived at Newport, in Rhode Island, just after the beginning of evening service. We came purposely thither first with our sloop. I think it the most pleasant entrance I ever yet saw. Almost all the morning the wind was contrary; but I found a very strong inclination to pray that we might arrive time enough to be present at public worship. Once I called the people; but something prevented their coming. At last, finding my impression increase upon me, I desired their attendance immediately. They came. With a strong assurance that we should be heard, we prayed that the Lord would turn the wind, that we might give him thanks in the great congregation; and also that he would send such to us as he would have us to converse with, and who might show us a lodging. Though the wind was ahead when we began, when we had done praying, and came up out of the cabin, it was quite fair.
"With a gentle gale we sailed most pleasantly into the harbor; got into public worship before they had finished the psalms; and sat, as I thought, undiscovered. After service was over, a gentleman asked me whether my name was not Whitefield. I told him 'yes;' he then desired me to go to his house, and he would take care to provide lodgings and necessaries for me and my friends. I went, silently admiring God's goodness in answering my prayer so minutely. Several gentlemen of the town soon came to pay their respects to me, among whom was one Mr. Clap, an aged dissenting minister, but the most venerable man I ever saw. He looked like a good old Puritan, and gave me an idea of what stamp those men were who first settled New England. His countenance was very heavenly; he rejoiced much in spirit at the sight of me, and prayed most affectionately for a blessing on my coming to Rhode Island."
In the evening, in company with Mr. Clap and other friends, Whitefield visited Mr. Honeyman, the minister of the church of England, and requested the use of his pulpit. "At first he seemed a little unwilling, being desirous to know 'what extraordinary call I had to preach on week-days,' which he said was disorderly. I answered, 'St. Paul exhorted Timothy to 'be instant in season and out of season;' that if the orders of the church were rightly complied with, our ministers should read public prayers twice every day, and then it would not be disorderly at such times to give them a sermon. As to an extraordinary call, I claimed none otherwise than upon the apostle's injunction, 'As we have opportunity, let us do good unto all men.' He still held out, and did not give any positive answer; but at last, after he had withdrawn and consulted with the gentlemen, he said, 'If my preaching would promote the glory of God, and the good of souls, I was welcome to his church as often as I would, during my stay in town.' We then agreed to make use of it at ten in the morning, and three in the afternoon. After this, I went to wait on the governor, who seemed to be a very plain man, and had a very plain house, which much pleased me. By profession, I think he is a Seventh-day Baptist; he is a man of good report as to his conduct and dealing with the world." As might have been expected, the evening was spent in exposition and prayer, with a crowded company, in the house of his friend Bowers, the gentleman who first addressed him when coming out of church.