Under the auspices of Lady Huntingdon, a prayer-meeting was established for the women who, from the circles of rank and fashion, became the followers of the Lord. Among these were Lady Frances Gardiner, Lady Mary Hamilton, daughter of the Marquis of Lothian, who had attended the ministry of Whitefield in Scotland, Lady Gertrude Hotham and Countess Delitz, sisters of Lady Chesterfield, Lady Chesterfield herself, and Lady Fanny Shirley. "Religion," says Lady Huntingdon, when writing to Doddridge, "was never so much the subject of conversation as now. Some of the great ones hear with me the gospel patiently, and thus much seed is sown by Mr. Whitefield's preaching. O that it may fall on good ground, and bring forth abundantly."
Some one, we believe a bishop, complained to George II. of the popularity and success of Whitefield, and entreated his majesty in some way or other to silence him. The monarch, thinking, no doubt, of the class described by the martyr Latimer, as "unpreaching prelates," replied with jocose severity, "I believe the best way will be to make a bishop of him."
But if Whitefield was honored by some of the great, he received from others unmingled hostility. Horace Walpole, the gay man, and the corrupt courtier, thought it worth while to introduce the Methodist preacher into his "Private Correspondence." The statement he makes of professed facts is altogether incredible, but shows unmistakably the spirit of the writer. "The apostle Whitefield is come to some shame. He went to Lady Huntingdon lately, and asked for forty pounds for some distressed saint or other. She said she had not so much money in the house, but would give it him the first time she had. He was very pressing, but in vain. At last he said, 'There's your watch and trinkets, you don't want such vanities; I will have that.' She would have put him off; but he persisting, she said, 'Well, if you must have it, you must.' About a fortnight afterwards, going to his house, and being carried into his wife's chamber, among the paraphernalia of the latter the countess found her own offering. This has made a terrible schism; she tells the story herself. I had not it from Saint Frances, [Lady Fanny Shirley,] but I hope it is true." Every thing goes to prove the sincerity of his hope, though founded on falsehood.
It has generally happened that the most effective public speakers, whether secular or sacred, have been accused by a fastidious class with vulgarisms. So with Cicero, Burke, and Chatham; so with Patrick Henry and Daniel Webster; and to turn to eminent preachers, so with Luther, Latimer, and Whitefield. The reason was, that intent on the greatest good to the greatest number, they used what Dr. Johnson, after Daniel Burgess, called "market language." Dr. William Bates, an accomplished and courtly non-conformist minister, in the seventeenth century, once complained in the presence of his faithful but unpolished friend Daniel Burgess, that he found very little success in his work as a minister; when his aged brother smartly replied, "Thank your velvet mouth for that—too fine to speak market language." Whitefield, very happily for thousands, had no squeamishness of this sort.
Some ladies called one Saturday morning to pay a visit to Lady Huntingdon, and during the interview, her ladyship inquired of them if they had ever heard Mr. Whitefield preach. On being answered in the negative, she said, "I wish you would hear him; he is to preach to-morrow evening." They promised her ladyship they would certainly attend. They fulfilled their promise; and when they called on her ladyship the next Monday morning, she anxiously inquired if they had heard Mr. Whitefield on the previous evening, and how they liked him. The reply was, "Oh, my lady, of all the preachers we ever heard, he is the most strange and unaccountable! Among other preposterous things, would your ladyship believe it, he declared that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receive even the devil's castaways! Now, my lady, did you ever hear of such a thing since you were born?" Her ladyship, in reply, said, "There is something, I acknowledge, a little singular in the invitation, and I do not recollect to have met with it before; but as Mr. Whitefield is below in the parlor, we will have him up, and let him answer for himself."
On Mr. Whitefield's entering the drawing-room, Lady Huntingdon said, "Sir, these ladies have been preferring a very heavy charge against you, and I thought it best that you should come up and defend yourself. They say, that in your sermon last evening, in speaking of the willingness of Jesus Christ to receive sinners, you said, that 'so ready was Christ to receive sinners who came to him, that he was willing to receive even the devil's castaways.'" Mr. Whitefield immediately replied, "I certainly, my lady, must plead guilty to the charge; whether I did what was right, or otherwise, your ladyship shall judge when you have heard a fact. Did your ladyship notice, about half an hour ago, a very modest single rap at the door? It was given by a poor, miserable looking aged female, who requested to speak with me. I desired that she might be shown into the parlor, when she thus addressed me: 'I believe, sir, you preached last evening at such a chapel.' 'Yes, I did.' 'Ah, sir, I was accidentally passing the door of that chapel, and hearing the voice of some one preaching, I did what I have never been in the habit of doing—I went in; and one of the first things I heard you say, was, that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receive the devil's castaways. Do you think, sir, that Jesus Christ would receive me?' I answered her that there was not a doubt of it, if she was but willing to go to him."
It is pleasant to add, that the impression conveyed in the singular language of Mr. Whitefield ended in the conversion of the poor woman to God. She gave satisfactory evidence that her great and numerous sins had been forgiven through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. Was Mr. Whitefield to be censured for the use of this language?
In September, 1748, Mr. Whitefield made his third visit to Scotland, where he met with a cordial welcome, and where his labors became increasingly valued. Some of the clergy at Glasgow, Perth, and Edinburgh used their influence to exclude him from the pulpits, but the majority voted in his favor; and a full examination vindicated his character, and made his excellences more generally known. All the ministers who were disposed to invite him to preach, were at liberty to do so, except in the presbytery of Edinburgh; here, however, he was accommodated by the magistrates with a church to preach in whenever he visited the city. In Scotland he now warmly advocated the cause of the college in New Jersey: of the results of his labors we shall hear more hereafter.
On his return to London, Whitefield resumed his preaching at Lady Huntingdon's to "the great ones," as he calls them. Thirty, and sometimes even sixty persons of rank attended, although the newspapers gave false and degrading accounts of the reception he met with in Scotland. He now availed himself of the influence he possessed, to forward his intended college, in addition to his orphan-house, for which his plea was, "If some such thing be not done, I cannot see how the southern parts will be provided with ministers; for all are afraid to go over." On this ground he appealed to the trustees of Georgia; reminding them that he had expended five thousand pounds upon the orphan-house; begging them to relieve it, as a charitable institution, from all quit-rent and taxes; and especially to allow him the labor of blacks in cultivating the farm. "White hands," he said, "had left his tract of land uncultivated."
It will not be expected that Whitefield could stay long, even in the courtly circles of London, where he met with so much acceptance. We very soon find him among his old friends at Gloucester and Bristol. The bishop of the latter see, he says, behaved very respectfully to him; he visited also his old tutor, now become one of the prebendaries, and met with the old kindness received at Oxford. "I told him, that my judgment, as I trust, was a little more ripened than it was some years ago; and that as fast as I found out my faults, I should be glad to acknowledge them. He said the offence of the governors of the church would wear off as I grew moderate." The evangelist did not tell the doctor how little he cared for such moderation as the governors of the church in that day required; but he wrote to Lady Huntingdon, on the subject of their favor, "I am pretty easy about that. If I can but act an honest part, and be kept from trimming, I leave all consequences to Him who orders all things well." During this journey, many new converts were won. One of these was a counsellor, who was so much affected, that his zeal in inviting others to hear Whitefield led his wife to suspect him of madness.