“Reverend and dear Sir,—My not meeting you in London has been a disappointment to me. What have you thought about an union? I am afraid an external one is impracticable. I find, by your sermons, that we differ in principles more than I thought; and I believe we are upon two different plans. My attachment to America will not permit me to abide very long in England; consequently, I should but weave a Penelope’s web, if I formed societies; and if I should form them, I have not proper assistants to take care of them. I intend therefore to go about preaching the gospel to every creature. You, I suppose, are for settling societies everywhere; but more of this when we meet. I hope you don’t forget to pray for me. You are always remembered by, reverend and dear sir, yours most affectionately in Christ Jesus,
“George Whitefield.”[32]
Whitefield left London for Scotland before Wesley’s arrival, and the two evangelists had no opportunity of meeting until the end of November, when, it is possible, they might, in their hurried ramblings, have a brief interview in town. They were still the warmest friends; but their courses of action were separate. Whitefield was a Calvinist; Wesley was not. Whitefield thought an external union, of the Tabernacle and other congregations with the congregations raised by Wesley, was impracticable; Wesley, so far as there is evidence to show, did not desire it. Whitefield had no societies, for the societies in Wales really belonged not to him but to Howel Harris; Wesley had already societies from one end of the kingdom to the other. Whitefield intended to spend his time chiefly in America; Wesley meant to stay in England. Whitefield, for the reasons he assigns, resolved to form no societies, but to be a mere evangelist; Wesley was resolved, for reasons stated at more than one of his annual conferences, to form societies wherever he and his preachers preached. Here the two friends parted, one in one direction, the other in another, both of them with hearts as warm as ever, and both equally animated with zeal for God and benevolence for man; but each, henceforth, cheerily pursuing his own chosen path, until both, laden with the spoils of a victorious war, were welcomed to the tranquillities and joys of their Father’s house in heaven.
Hitherto Whitefield’s preaching had chiefly been in fields and lanes, squares and streets, woods and wildernesses; but now, oddly enough, he was admitted into the drawing rooms of the rich and great.
The Right Honourable Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, wife of the Earl of Huntingdon, and sister of the Earl of Ferrars, was now in the forty-second year of her age. Her noble husband was a man of extensive learning, was most exemplary in his character, and treated his wife with great affection. At his death, in 1746, ninety-eight elegies were written concerning him, and were published under the title of “Lacrymæ Musarum.”
For two years past, the countess had been a widow. Hitherto, she had admirably fulfilled her duties in the higher circles of society. At Donnington Park, she had been the “Lady Bountiful” among her neighbours and dependants; she had evinced great interest in their temporal and eternal welfare; and, besides encouraging the clergy in her own immediate neighbourhood, she had, more than once, dared to give a hearty welcome to the outcast Wesleys and their friends. Her heart was now pierced with the deepest sorrow, and was highly susceptible of religious impressions. Just at this juncture, Whitefield came back to England; his fervid eloquence attracted her attention; she made him her chaplain; and what Whitefield had resolved not to do, she did herself,—she founded societies, built chapels, appointed ministers, and formed a Methodist connexion apart from that which was formed by Wesley. She never renounced the Church of England; but she embraced views hardly compatible with its practices and well being. She was a child of emotion, carried onwards by an impulse not easily resisted or described. She had her annual conferences; the preachers whom she stationed were called “Lady Huntingdon’s preachers”; and the connexion over which she presided was known by the name of “Lady Huntingdon’s connexion.” Perhaps her people were less efficiently organised; but she held to them the same relation that Wesley did to his. Her authority was parental and decisive. No one doubted the purity of her motives, and all trusted the general soundness of her judgment. Chapels were erected in London, Brighton, Tunbridge Wells, Bath, Bristol, Birmingham, and other places. Again and again, revivalists were sent from one end of the land to the other, preaching everywhere, and almost everywhere winning souls for Christ. A college, the first that Methodism had, was opened at Trevecca, for the training of young ministers. The countess was the empress of the new connexion, and Whitefield was her prime minister. Wesley’s connexion was Arminian; hers was Calvinist. His continues, and is more extended and powerful than ever; hers has long been broken up into Independent churches. Wesley died March 2, 1791; she on the 17th of June next ensuing.
The Countess of Huntingdon was, in many respects, the most remarkable woman of her age and country. She was far from faultless; but she was neither the gloomy fanatic, the weak visionary, nor the abstracted devotee, which different parties have painted her. Her endowments were above the ordinary standard, and were much improved by reading, conversation, study, and observation. Though not a beauty, she was not without the charms of the female sex. Her devotion to the work of God was almost unexampled. Her house was used for Methodist meetings, which were attended by large numbers of the nobility and higher classes, including the Duchesses of Argyll, Bedford, Grafton, Hamilton, Montagu, Queensberry, Richmond, and Manchester, and Lords Burlington, Townshend, North, March, Trentham, Weymouth, Tavistock, Hertford, Trafford, Northampton, Lyttelton, and others,—even William Pitt. During the last forty years of her life, she gave, at least, £100,000 for the support and extension of her system; and actually sold her jewels to find means for the building of Brighton chapel. Her life was a beautiful course of hallowed labour. Her death was the serene setting of a brilliant sun. Almost her last words were: “My work is done; I have nothing to do but to go to my Father.” She was a mother in Israel, whose decease left a vacancy not filled up. Her person, endowments, energy, and spirit were all uncommon. Accustomed to assume great responsibilities and to be deferred to in matters of great importance, she necessarily cultivated self reliance to such an extent as sometimes made her seem obstinate, haughty, and dogmatical. Still, dignity and ease met in her; and in manners she was refined, elegant, and engaging. Honour, heroism, and magnanimity were always conspicuous in her remarkable career; and, for intrepidity in the cause of God, and success in winning souls to Christ, Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, stands unequalled among women.
Six weeks after his return from America, Whitefield commenced preaching in her ladyship’s mansion. Among his earliest hearers was the celebrated Lord Chesterfield, “a wit among lords, and a lord among wits.” Twice a week, Whitefield preached to these conclaves of nobility and rank, his congregations usually consisting of about thirty persons.[33]
In London, he preached at St. Bartholomew’s, and helped to administer the sacrament to a thousand communicants;[34] but, in other instances, his congregations were thin. He found that antinomianism had made sad havoc; but the scattered troops began to unite again.[35] He writes November 19: “Matters were in great confusion by reason of Mr. Cennick’s going over to the Moravians”; and again on December 21: “I suppose not less than four hundred, through the practices of the Moravians, have left the Tabernacle. I have also been forsaken in other ways. I have not had above a hundred to hear me, where I had twenty thousand; and hundreds now assemble within a quarter of a mile of me, who never come to see or speak to me; though they must own, at the great day, that I was their spiritual father. All this I find but little enough to teach me to cease from man, and to wean me from that too great fondness which spiritual fathers are apt to have for their spiritual children.”[36]
No doubt, this was exceedingly distressing. But there was more than this to annoy the once popular preacher. Just at the time when Wesley got back to London, Whitefield set out for Scotland, where, on former occasions, he had won some of his greatest triumphs; but now a synod of his old friends, the Seceders, met in Edinburgh, on November 16, to adopt the “new modelled scheme and covenant.” Hundreds took the oath, and solemnly engaged to use all lawful means to extirpate, not only “popery, prelacy, Arminianism, Arianism, tritheism, and Sabellianism,” but also “George Whitefieldism”; and similar decisions were adopted at the synods of Lothian, Ayr, and Glasgow.[37]