Whitefield returned to Oxford on June 30, and purposed to spend "some years" in that sect of learning; but already he had been two months in London, and was now at Dummer, officiating for his friend Kinchin. During his six weeks' residence in this small Hampshire village, two events occurred, one or other of which was likely to affect the whole of his future life. First, he had the offer of "a very profitable curacy in London." Had he accepted this, he probably, instead of becoming one of the illustrious evangelists of the eighteenth century, would have settled down into an earnest and useful, but unknown, pastor of a parochial church and congregation. The offer, to a penniless young parson, was a tempting one; and the wonder is that it was not eagerly embraced. Whitefield was not only without means, but was actually in debt. On November 5, just before he went to Dummer, he wrote to his friend Harris, the Gloucester bookseller, "Herewith I have sent you £7, to pay for Mr. Henry's Commentary. Dear Squire Thorold lately made me a present of ten guineas; so that now (for ever blessed be the Divine goodness!) I can send you more than I thought I should be able to do. In time I hope to pay the apothecary's bill." The man was without purse and scrip; and yet, strangely enough, he declined the offer of the "very profitable curacy" which had been made to him.
The other event was the return of Charles Wesley from Georgia. Charles landed in England on December 3; and, on December 22, wrote in his journal: "I received a letter from Mr. Whitefield, offering himself to go to Georgia."[76] What happened during this brief interval of nineteen days? Whitefield shall relate his own story. He says:—
"About the middle of December, a letter came from Mr. Broughton informing me that Mr. Charles Wesley was arrived at London. Soon after came a letter from Mr. Charles himself, wherein he informed me that he was come over to procure labourers; but, added he, 'I dare not prevent God's nomination.' In a few days after this came another letter from Mr. John Wesley, wherein were these words—'Only Mr. Delamotte is with me, till God shall stir up the hearts of some of His servants, who, putting their lives in His hands, shall come over and help us, where the harvest is so great, and the labourers so few. What if thou art the man, Mr. Whitefield?' In another letter were these words—'Do you ask me what you shall have? Food to eat, and raiment to put on; a house to lay your head in, such as your Lord had not; and a crown of glory that fadeth not away.' Upon reading this, my heart leaped within me, and, as it were, echoed to the call. Many things concurred to make my way clear. Mr. Kinchin was now elected Dean of Corpus Christi College, and being thereby obliged to reside at Oxford, he willingly took upon him the charge of the prisoners. Mr. Hervey was ready to serve the cure at Dummer. Mr. Wesley was my dear friend, and I thought it would be a great advantage to be under his tuition. Georgia was an infant, and likely to be an increasing colony; and the Government seemed to have its welfare much at heart. I had heard many Indians were near it, and had thought it a matter of great importance that serious clergymen should be sent there. Retirement and privacy were what my soul delighted in. A voyage to sea would, in all probability, not do my constitution much hurt; nay, I had heard that the sea was sometimes beneficial to weakly people. And supposing the worst, as I must necessarily return to take priests' orders, it would then be left to my choice whether I would fix in my native country or go abroad any more. These things being thoroughly weighed, I at length resolved to embark for Georgia; and knowing that I should never put my resolution into practice, if I conferred with flesh and blood, I wrote to my relations to inform them of my design, and withal told them, 'if they would promise not to dissuade me from my intended voyage, I would come and take a personal leave of them; if otherwise, knowing my own weakness, I was determined to embark without visiting them at all.' A few days after, Mr. Kinchin came to Dummer, and introduced Mr. Hervey into the cure. They gave me some friendly counsel; and, having spent the beginning of Christmas sweetly together, and taken an affectionate leave of the Dummer people, I returned once more to Oxford, to bid adieu to my friends, who were as dear to me as my own soul. My resolution at first a little shocked them; but having reason to think, from my relation of circumstances, that I had a call from Providence, most of them said, 'The will of the Lord be done!'"[77]
The Rubicon was passed. Young Whitefield, at the age of twenty-two, resolved to be a missionary. In the quietude of a small country village, he had time to think and to pray about such a calling. Fortunately, there were no friends at hand, with more affection than self-denying zeal, ready to interfere with the yearnings of his big heart of mercy, and to set aside his purpose. True, he had only six months before resolved to live "some years" at Oxford, to complete his studies, and to tend his prisoners; but Wesley's characteristic letter had set his soul on fire, and now he was determined to join his friend in Georgia.
To Whitefield, the year (1736) had been a most eventful one. The first three months were spent in Gloucester, partly in forming and establishing a religious Society; partly in visiting the inmates of the county gaol; partly in reading authors like Burkitt, Henry, Baxter, and Alleine; and, to a great extent, in public and private prayer. There was no prospect of his being admitted into orders, for he was only twenty-one, and the bishop had publicly declared that he would ordain no one under twenty-three. Indeed, Whitefield himself shrank from immediate ordination, and prayed with all his might against it. In the month of March, he returned to Oxford, where his friends made him Wesley's successor in the unendowed chaplaincy of Oxford prison, and where, to his great surprise, he received from Sir John Philips the offer of a gratuity of £30 a year. In June, he was ordained by Bishop Benson. In July, his University made him a Bachelor of Arts. In August and September, the "Boy-Parson" was employed in preaching in London churches and in London prisons, and with such success that people from all parts of the vast city began to flock together to hear him. In November, the youthful preacher, who, to some extent, had startled London, became the temporary pastor of a pigmy parish of less than three hundred souls; and here, in the retirement he loved so much, he suddenly, but not without thought and prayer, determined that he would embark for Georgia. As soon as possible he hastened back to Oxford; his collegiate friends, at first, were "a little shocked," but afterwards acquiesced; and he himself wrote to Charles Wesley the following letter—a letter which will fitly close the present chapter:—
"Oxon, December 30, 1736.
"Dearest Sir,—Last night I returned from a weeping flock at Dummer, and met with a grateful, sweet reception from my Oxon friends. But, alas! how transient are our visits in this life! for to-morrow I purpose, God willing, to set out for Gloucester; or otherwise I shall hardly see the bishop, who, I hope, will contribute something towards assisting the Americans. Add to this, that friends promise not to dissuade me from my enterprise; and I have a brother, I believe, now there, that comes on purpose to see me; so that all here bid me hasten away. O may such speedy removes teach me to be every moment ready at my blessed Master's call; and remind me that I have here no continuing city, but seek one to come!
"I have great reason to bless God for sending me to Dummer. It has, I think, been an excellent preparation for Georgia. It has brought me to live alone, and much improved both my outward and inward man. I have written to Salmon, and will, God willing, shortly send to Hall.[78] No one but myself is ready to go from Oxford. Dear Mr. Hutchins will go hereafter, I believe; but his time, as yet, is not fully come. I trust God will give me strength to throw myself blindfold into His hands, and permit Him to do with me whatsoever seemeth good in His sight. All friends like the German Hymn admirably. Happy shall I be if my lot is cast amongst such pious souls;[79] but, I think, God calls me in a particular manner to assist your brother.
"My friend will not take it amiss, if I enquire why he chooses to be secretary to Mr. Oglethorpe, and not rather go where labourers are so much wanted, in the character of a missionary. Did the bishop ordain us, my dear friend, to write bonds, receipts, etc., or to preach the Gospel? Or dare we not trust God to provide for our relations, without endangering, or at least retarding, our spiritual improvement? But I go too far. Habe me excusatum. You know I was always heady and self-willed.
"I hear you are to be in Gloucester next week. Will dear Mr. Charles take a bed with me at Mr. Harris's? I believe he will be welcome. You will write next post, if convenient, and direct for me to Mr. Harris's, junior, bookseller, in Gloucester. All friends here kindly salute and long to see you. Mr. Kinchin is all heart. Dear Mr. Charles, adieu!—Let us wrestle in prayer for each other; and believe me to be, dearest sir,
"Your affectionate brother in Christ,
"George Whitefield."P.S.—Is it expedient to go into priest's orders? Tell me, that I may acquaint the bishop."[80]