"Hearts base as hell he can control,
And spread new powers throughout the whole."
While preaching at Boston, he was delighted to observe that the sheriff, who had heretofore been the leader of the persecution against him, now began to hear him preach; and his pleasure was vastly increased, when he saw the crowds come around him to inquire as to their highest interests.
Among these crowds was a somewhat remarkable gentleman of that city. He was a man of ready wit and racy humor, who delighted in preaching over a bottle to his ungodly companions. He went to hear Whitefield, that he might be furnished with matter for a "tavern harangue." When he had heard enough of the sermon for his purpose, he endeavored to quit the church for the inn, but "found his endeavors to get out fruitless, he was so pent up." While thus fixed, and waiting for "fresh matter of ridicule," the truth took possession of his heart. That night he went to Mr. Prince full of terror, and sought an introduction to ask pardon of the preacher. Whitefield says of him, "By the paleness, pensiveness, and horror of his countenance, I guessed he was the man of whom I had been apprized. 'Sir, can you forgive me?' he cried in a low, but plaintive voice. I smiled, and said, 'Yes, sir, very readily.' 'Indeed,' he said, 'you cannot when I tell you all.' I then asked him to sit down; and judging that he had sufficiently felt the lash of the law, I preached the gospel to him." This, with other remarkable conversions, gave increasing energy and influence to his preaching in Boston. "My bodily strength," he says, "is recovered, and my soul more than ever in love with a crucified Jesus."
Another illustration may also be here given of the meekness and gentleness which usually characterized our evangelist in his intercourse with his brethren. In his later visits to New England, it was Whitefield's usual practice to spend a few days with Dr. Hopkins. On one of these occasions, after preaching for the doctor on the Sabbath, the next day he proposed a ride into the country for exercise. During the ride, Whitefield spoke with regret of the views of their "good brother Edwards on the subject of the witness of the Holy Spirit." "Ah," asked Dr. Hopkins, "and what is the error?" Here Whitefield made a long pause; and Hopkins continued the conversation: "Do you believe, Mr. Whitefield, that the witness of the Spirit is a direct communication from God?" "I cannot say that I do," was the reply. "Well, do you believe that Christians have any other witness of the Spirit than that afforded by the testimony of their own holy affections?" "I cannot say that I do," Mr. Whitefield again replied. "Do you believe it to be any thing more or less," continued Hopkins, "than the Spirit producing in the heart the gracious exercises of repentance, faith, etc.?" "No, that is precisely my view of it," said Whitefield. "And that is precisely the view of good father Edwards," pleasantly returned Dr. Hopkins. Whitefield frankly acknowledged his error, and rejoiced that there was no disagreement on the subject.
CHAPTER X.
FROM HIS LEAVING NEW ENGLAND TILL HIS ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND—LABORS IN THE MIDDLE AND SOUTHERN STATES—THE BERMUDAS.
1745-1748.
Leaving New England, Whitefield proceeded first to New York, where he preached as he had formerly done, and found that the seed sown in past days had produced much fruit. Proceeding still southward, on his way towards Philadelphia, arriving in New Jersey, he says, "I had the pleasure of preaching by an interpreter to some converted Indians, and of seeing nearly fifty young ones in one school, near Freehold, learning the Assembly's Catechism." A blessed awakening had before this time been begun and carried on among the Delaware Indians, by the ministry of David Brainerd; no such work had been heard of since the days of the apostolic Eliot in New England.
Arriving in Philadelphia, Whitefield was rejoiced to find that his friend Gilbert Tennent was still blessed with success in his labors. Many, he says, were under "soul-sickness," and Tennent's health suffered much with walking from place to place to see them. The gentlemen connected with the new house in which Tennent preached, were, as well as Tennent himself, desirous of securing at least a portion of Whitefield's labors, and offered him eight hundred pounds a year, if he would become their pastor, and labor with them six months in the year, travelling the other six months wherever he thought proper. He thanked them, but declined.