Girl. If I do not find Christ there, I am sure it is not heaven; for where he dwells must be heaven, for there also dwells God, and holy angels, and all that Christ saves.
Who can tell the results of a single sermon, or trace the consequences of one conversion? When Mr. Whitefield was preaching in New England, a lady became the subject of divine grace, and her spirit was peculiarly drawn out in prayer for others. But in her Christian exercises she was alone; she could persuade no one to pray with her but her little daughter, about ten years of age. She took this dear child into her closet from day to day, as a witness of her cries and tears. After a time, it pleased God to touch the heart of the child, and to give her the hope of salvation by the remission of sin. In a transport of holy joy she then exclaimed, "O, mother, if all the world knew this! I wish I could tell every body. Pray, mother, let me run to some of the neighbors and tell them, that they may be happy and love my Saviour too." "Ah, my dear child," said the mother, "that would be useless, for I suppose that were you to tell your experience, there is not one within many miles who would not laugh at you, and say it was all delusion." "Oh, mother," replied the dear girl, "I think they would believe me. I must go over to the shoemaker and tell him; he will believe me." She ran over, and found him at work in his shop. She began by telling him that he must die, and that he was a sinner, and that she was a sinner, but that her blessed Saviour had heard her mother's prayers, and had forgiven all her sins; and that now she was so happy that she did not know how to tell it. The shoemaker was struck with surprise, his tears flowed down like rain; he threw aside his work, and by prayer and supplication sought for mercy. The neighborhood were awakened, and within a few months more than fifty persons were brought to the knowledge of Jesus, and rejoiced in his power and grace.
But to return to our narrative of Whitefield's labors in Boston. On Thursday, October 9, he preached the public lecture at the Old South church. He had selected another text, but it was much impressed on his heart that he should preach from our Lord's conference with Nicodemus. A large number of ministers were present, and when he came to the words, "Art thou a master in Israel, and knowest not these things?" he says, "The Lord enabled me to open my mouth boldly against unconverted ministers, to caution tutors to take care of their pupils, and also to advise ministers particularly to examine into the experiences of candidates for ordination. For I am verily persuaded the generality of preachers talk of an unknown and unfelt Christ; and the reason why congregations have been so dead is, because they have had dead men preaching to them. O that the Lord may quicken and revive them, for his own name's sake. For how can dead men beget living children? It is true, indeed, God may convert men by the devil, if he pleases, and so he may by unconverted ministers; but I believe he seldom makes use of either of them for this purpose. No; the Lord will choose vessels made meet by the operations of the blessed Spirit for his sacred use: and as for my own part, I would not lay hands on an unconverted man for ten thousand worlds. Unspeakable freedom God gave me while treating on this head. After sermon, I dined with the governor, who seemed more kindly affected than ever, and particularly told me, of the minister who has lately begun to preach extempore, that 'he was glad he had found out a way to save his eyes.' In the afternoon I preached on the Common to about fifteen thousand people, and collected upwards of two hundred pounds for the orphan-house. Just as I had finished my sermon, a ticket was put up to me, wherein I was desired to pray for a person just entered upon the ministry, but under apprehension that he was not converted. God enabled me to pray for him with my whole heart; and I hope that ticket may teach many others not to run before they can give an account of their conversion. If they do, they offer to God strange fire." The same day and evening, Whitefield attended the funeral of one of the provincial council, preached at the almshouse, exhorted a great number of persons at the workhouse, who followed him there, and conversed with many who waited at his lodgings for spiritual advice. From the time of his return from the east, he had been thronged, morning and evening, with anxious inquirers. His friends cried, "Spare thyself;" but he says, "I went and ate bread very comfortably at a friend's house, where I was invited, and soon after retired to my rest. Oh, how comfortable is sleep after working for Jesus."
On Friday he preached at Charlestown and at Reading to many thousands, and on Saturday from the meeting-house door at Cambridge, on Noah as a preacher of righteousness; a great number of persons were present, who stood very attentively during a shower of rain, and were at the latter part of the sermon much affected. On the same afternoon he returned to Boston, and again preached, and was engaged till midnight, chiefly in conversation and prayer with persons anxious for their salvation.
Sunday, October 12, he rose with body and soul greatly refreshed, and spent its early hours in conversing with those who came for spiritual counsel. He then "preached with great power and affection" at the Old South church, which was so exceedingly thronged, that he was obliged to get in at one of the windows. He dined with the governor, who came to him after dinner weeping, and desired his prayers. He heard Dr. Sewall in the afternoon. Both during the exercises and after them he was sick, but went with the governor in his coach, and preached his farewell sermon on the Common, Gillies says, to twenty thousand, and Tracy to nearly thirty thousand people, though the whole population of Boston did not at that time exceed twenty thousand. Great multitudes were melted into tears when he spoke of leaving them. The governor then went with him to his lodgings. He stood in the passage and spoke to a great company, both within and without the doors; but they were so deeply affected, and cried out so loud, that he was compelled to leave off praying. The remaining part of the evening was chiefly spent in conversation with inquirers.
In closing his account of this day's work, he exclaims, "Blessed be God for what things he has done in Boston! I hope a glorious work is now begun, and that the Lord will stir up some faithful laborers to carry it on. Boston is a large, populous place, very wealthy. Has the form kept up, but has lost much of the power of religion. I have not heard of any remarkable stir for these many years. Ministers and people are obliged to confess, that the love of many is waxed cold. Both, for the generality, seem to be too much conformed to the world. There is much of the pride of life to be seen in their assemblies. Jewels, patches, and gay apparel are commonly worn by the female sex; and even the common people, I observed dressed up in the pride of life. There are nine meeting-houses of the Congregational persuasion, one Baptist, one French, and one belonging to the Scotch-Irish. One thing Boston is very remarkable for—the external observance of the Sabbath. Men in civil offices have a regard for religion. The governor encourages them, and the ministers and magistrates are more united than in any other place where I have been. Both were exceedingly civil to me during my stay. I never saw so little scoffing, never had so little opposition. But one might easily see much would hereafter arise, when I came to be more particular in my application to particular persons; for I fear many rest in a head-knowledge, are close pharisees, and have only a name to live. It must needs be so when the power of godliness is dwindled away, and where the form only of religion is become fashionable among people. Boston people are dear to my soul. They were greatly affected by the word, followed me night and day, and were very liberal to my dear orphans. I promised, God willing, to visit them again, and intend to fulfil my promise when it shall please God to bring me again from my native country. In the meanwhile, dear Boston, adieu. The Lord be with thy ministers and people, and grant that the remnant which is still left according to the election of grace, may take root downwards, and bear fruit upwards, and fill the land."
On the morning following these solemn services, Whitefield left Boston on his way to Northampton. To detail his four days' progress, would be almost to repeat what we have already written. At Concord, where he arrived on Monday about noon, he preached twice to some thousands in the open air, "and a comfortable preaching it was. The hearers were sweetly melted down." Mr. Bliss, the minister of the town, of whose subsequent labors it has been well said, more perfect accounts ought to have been preserved, wept abundantly. On Tuesday he "preached at Sudbury to some thousands with power, and observed a considerable commotion in the assembly;" as was also the case the same afternoon at Marlborough. At the latter place he was met by Governor Belcher, who went with him through the rain that night to Worcester. Here, on Wednesday, he "preached in the open air to some thousands. The word fell with weight indeed. It carried all before it. After sermon, the governor said to me, 'I pray God I may apply what has been said to my own heart. Pray, Mr. Whitefield, that I may hunger and thirst after righteousness.'" Passing on, he preached at Leicester, Brookfield, and Cold-Spring, on his way to Hadley, where he arrived on Friday, and preached about noon. In this place he says, "A great work was begun, and carried on some years ago; but lately the people of God have complained of deadness and losing their first love. However, as soon as I mentioned what God had done for their souls formerly, it was like putting fire to timber. The remembrance of it quickened them, and caused many to weep sorely." On the same afternoon he crossed the ferry to Northampton.
Of the great revival of religion in New England, which commenced at Northampton about 1734, and is the subject of President Edwards' "Narrative," we have already briefly spoken; its importance will justify a more extended notice. It began without any extraordinary circumstances to awaken the attention of the people, or any uncommon arrangements or efforts by the minister. The young people of the place had for two or three years shown an increased measure of thoughtfulness, and a growing disposition to receive religious instruction. There had been, from time to time, instances of strong religious impression and of hopeful conversion. But in the latter end of December, 1734, five or six persons, one after another, became very suddenly the subjects of the grace of God which newly creates the soul. Among these was a young woman distinguished for her gayety in youthful society, "one of the greatest company-keepers in the whole town," who came to the pastor with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, and with faith and hope in the Saviour of sinners, before any one had heard of her being at all impressed with serious things. The sudden, though, as time proved, the real conversion of this young woman, was the power of God striking the electric chain of religious sympathies which had imperceptibly, but effectually encircled all the families of Northampton. Mr. Edwards' "Narrative" says, "The news of it seemed to be almost like a flash of lightning upon the hearts of young people all over the town, and upon many others.... Presently a great and earnest concern about the great things of religion and the eternal world became universal in all parts of the town, and among persons of all degrees and all ages. All talk but about spiritual and eternal things was soon thrown by; all the conversation in all companies was upon these things only, except so much as was necessary for people carrying on their ordinary secular business. The minds of people were wonderfully taken off from the world; it was treated among us as a thing of very little consequence. All would eagerly lay hold of opportunities for their souls, and were wont very often to meet together in private houses for religious purposes. And such meetings, when appointed, were generally thronged. Those who were wont to be the vainest and loosest, and those who had been most disposed to think and speak lightly of vital and experimental religion, were now generally subject to great awakening. And the work of conversion was carried on in a most astonishing manner, and increased more and more. From day to day, for many months together, might be seen evident instances of sinners brought out of darkness into marvellous light. In the spring and summer following, the town seemed to be full of the presence of God; it was never so full of love, and yet so full of distress, as it was then. It was a time of joy in families, on account of salvation being brought to them; parents rejoicing over their children as new-born, and husbands over their wives, and wives over their husbands. The goings of God were then seen in his sanctuary, God's day was a delight, and his tabernacles were amiable. Our public assemblies were then beautiful; the congregation was alive in God's service, every one eagerly intent on the public worship, every hearer eager to drink in the words of the minister as they came from his mouth. The assembly were, from time to time, in tears, while the word was preached; some weeping with sorrow and distress, others with joy and love, others with pity and concern for their neighbors."
In December, 1743, nine years after this blessed work had begun, Edwards writes, "Ever since the great work of God that was wrought here about nine years ago, there has been a great, abiding alteration in this town, in many respects. There has been vastly more religion kept up in the town, among all sorts of persons, in religious exercises, and in common conversation, than used to be before. There has remained a more general seriousness and decency in attending the public worship. I suppose the town has been in no measure so free from vice, for any long time together, for these sixty years, as it has these nine years past. There has also been an evident alteration with respect to a charitable spirit to the poor. And though, after that great work of nine years ago, there has been a very lamentable decay of religious affections, and the engagedness of people's spirits in religion, yet many societies for prayer and social religion were all along kept up, and there were some few instances of awakening and deep concern about the things of another world, even in the most dead time. In the year 1740, in the spring, before Mr. Whitefield came to this town, there was a visible alteration. There was more seriousness and religious conversation, especially among young people. Those things that were of ill tendency among them were more forborne; and it was a more frequent thing for persons to visit their ministers upon soul accounts. In some particular persons, there appeared a great alteration about that time. And thus it continued till Mr. Whitefield came to town, which was about the middle of October following."
And what thought Whitefield himself on his arrival at Northampton? Let us hear him. "Their pastor's name is Edwards, successor and grandson to the great Stoddard, whose memory will be always precious to my soul, and whose books, entitled, "A Guide to Christ," and "Safety of appearing in Christ's righteousness," I would recommend to all. Mr. Edwards is a solid, excellent Christian, but at present weak in body. I think I may say I have not seen his fellow in all New England. When I came into his pulpit, I found my heart drawn out to talk of scarce any thing besides the consolations and privileges of saints, and the plentiful effusion of the Spirit upon the hearts of believers. And when I came to remind them of their former experiences, and how zealous and lively they were at that time, both minister and people wept much; and the Holy Ghost enabled me to speak with a great deal of power. In the evening, I gave a word of exhortation to several who came to Mr. Edwards' house."