All this is presumptive evidence; the following is direct. Whitefield wrote his love letters on April 4, 1740. On the 28th day of the same month, he dispatched his friend Seward to England, on important business. On the 26th of June next ensuing, he wrote as follows to Mr. Seward:—
"Savannah, June 26, 1740.
"My dear Brother Seward—I have received many agreeable letters from England; but find, from Blendon letters, that Miss E—— D—— is in a seeking state only. Surely that will not do. I would have one that is full of faith and the Holy Ghost. My poor family gives me more concern than all things else put together. I want a gracious woman that is dead to everything but Jesus, and is qualified to govern children, and direct persons of her own sex. Such a one would help, and not retard, me in my dear Lord's work. I wait upon the Lord every moment; I hang upon my Jesus; and He daily assures me He will not permit me to fall by the hands of a woman. I am almost tempted to wish I had never undertaken the Orphan House. At other times, I am willing to contrive matters so that I may not marry. My dearest brother, adieu! By this time, I trust, you are near England. Take heed that the people you bring believe on Jesus," etc., etc.
The reader will excuse the length of these extracts. This was really one of the most curious of the little episodes in Whitefield's life; and no previous biographer has attempted to shew who the lady was whom Whitefield proposed to make his wife.
On April 2, Whitefield and William Seward, embarked in their own sloop, the Savannah, and, after a ten days' voyage, landed at Newcastle, in the province of Pennsylvania, where they were kindly entertained by Mr. Grafton. The day (April 13) being Sunday, and the episcopal minister of the parish being ill, Whitefield was allowed the use of his pulpit, and, at once, commenced preaching. After the morning service, William Seward rode to Christian Bridge, and to Whiteclay Creek, (where Charles Tennent was the Presbyterian minister,) for the purpose of announcing that Whitefield would preach again at Newcastle in the afternoon. Such was the young preacher's popularity, that the service in the Presbyterian meeting-house was given up, and Tennent and above two hundred others mounted their horses, and galloped to Newcastle, arriving in time to hear Whitefield's sermon on the conversion of Zaccheus.
"Mr. Tennent," says Seward, "informed us of the great success which had attended our brother Whitefield's preaching, when we were here last. For some time, a general silence was fixed on people's minds, and many began seriously to think on what foundation they stood. A general outward reformation has been visible. Many ministers have been quickened, and congregations are increased."[327]
On Monday, April 14, at eleven in the morning, Whitefield preached at Wilmington to about three thousand, using as his pulpit the balcony of the house where he lodged. At night, he and his friends arrived at Philadelphia. Seward writes:—
"On our arrival, though late, many friends came to see us, particularly Mr. Jones, the Baptist minister, who told us of two other ministers, Mr. Treat and Mr. Morgan, who were so affected by our brother Whitefield's spirit, that the latter had gone forth preaching towards the sea coast in the Jerseys, and in many other places; and the former had told his congregation that he had been hitherto deceiving himself and them, and that he could not preach again at present, but desired them to join in prayer with him."[328]
No wonder that Whitefield's enthusiastic soul was stirred within him. In a letter, written on the day he reached Philadelphia, he says:—
"People are much alarmed already. I find God has been pleased to do great things, by what He enabled me to deliver when last here. Two ministers have been convinced of their formal state, notwithstanding they held and preached the doctrines of grace. One plainly told the congregation he had been deceiving himself and them, and could not preach any more, but desired the people to pray with him. The other is now a flame of fire, and has been much owned of God. Very many, I believe, of late have been brought savingly to believe on the Lord Jesus. The work much increases. A primitive spirit revives; and many, I hope, will be brought to live steadfast in the apostle's doctrine, in fellowship, in breaking of bread, and in prayer."
Whitefield spent nine days, from April 14 to 23, in Philadelphia and its immediate neighbourhood. The enthusiasm created by his visit was enormous. His friends erected a stage for him on what was called Society Hill, and around this, as if drawn by magic, his immense congregations gathered. First of all he applied for the use of the parish church, but the clergyman refused, because Whitefield had "written against Archbishop Tillotson."[329] Upon this, Whitefield, as usual, made the open air his church, and, in this quiet Quaker city, preached to audiences numbering from five to fifteen thousand people each. Remembering how recently the city had been founded, and bearing in mind the sparseness of the surrounding populations, the wonder is how such vast crowds were drawn together. In this respect, a congregation of thirty thousand in Moorfields was a small affair when compared with a congregation of ten thousand on Society Hill, in Philadelphia. The power accompanying Whitefield's preaching was marvellous. Numbers, including several negroes, came to him privately, deeply convinced of sin, and asking his advice and prayers. The clergyman of the Church of England preached a sermon, from James ii. 18, upon justification by works. In the evening of the same day, Whitefield, on Society Hill, took the same text, and preached, to about fifteen thousand people, a sermon on justification by faith, after which he made a collection for his Orphan House, amounting to £80 currency. This was the second collection, for the same object, which Whitefield made on that memorable Sabbath; for, in the early morning, at seven o'clock, he had preached to about ten thousand, and collected for his orphans £110 sterling. His friend, William Seward, with the connivance of the owner, locked the doors, and took away the keys, of "the Assembly-room, the Dancing School, and the Music Meeting," promising to pay the proprietor for any loss he might sustain. The enemies of Whitefield were enraged by this proceeding, and "some gentlemen," says Seward, "threatened to cane me."[330] "Scoffers," writes Whitefield, "muttered in coffee-houses, cursed, drunk a bowl of punch, and then cried out against me for not preaching up more morality."[331]