"July 14. We breakfasted" (at Thornbury) "with a Quaker, who had been brought up in the Church of England; but, being under strong convictions of inward sin, and applying to several persons for advice, they all judged him to be under a disorder of body, and gave advice accordingly. Some Quakers, with whom he met about the same time, told him it was the hand of God upon his soul; and advised him to seek another sort of relief than those miserable comforters had recommended. 'Woe unto you, ye blind leaders of the blind!' How long will ye pervert the right ways of the Lord? Ye, who tell the mourners in Zion, 'Much religion hath made you mad!' Ye, who send them, whom God hath wounded, to the devil for cure; to company, idle books, or diversions! Thus shall they perish in their iniquity; but their blood shall God require at your hands."
Next morning the two friends parted, not to meet again until the year 1741, when, unfortunately, there was a rupture between them, which, hereafter, will demand attention. Leaving Wesley to preach to assembled thousands in Gloucester, Whitefield set out for London. He writes:—
"Sunday, July 15. Left my honoured friend, Mr. Wesley, to preach to about seven thousand souls in Gloucester. Preached twice in Randwick Church, and assisted in administering the sacrament to two hundred and seventy communicants. In the evening, at Hampton Common, I was enabled to preach to about twenty thousand.
"July 16. Preached, at noon, at Tedbury, to about four thousand people. Many, of divers denominations, came to meet me, with whom I took sweet counsel. Visited, in the afternoon, Mr. O——, a Baptist teacher. At seven, in the evening, preached to about three thousand people at Malmesbury. Much opposition had been made, by the Pharisees, against my coming; and the minister, in particular, had written to the churchwarden to stop me.
"July 17. Preached to about two thousand, at eight in the morning; and reached Cirencester at six in the evening. Here also men breathed out threatenings against me. Numbers came from neighbouring towns. My congregation was as large again as when I preached here last.
"July 18. Preached at seven in the morning. I stood in the valley, and the people on an ascent, that formed a most beautiful amphitheatre. I reached Abingdon about seven in the evening, and preached to several thousands. Much opposition had been made against my coming. The landlord, whose house we offered to put up at, genteelly told us he had not room for us.
"July 19. At the request of several well-disposed people, preached again this morning, though not to so great a number as before. Reached Basingstoke about seven at night. Being languid and weary, I lay down soon after our coming to the inn; but was shortly told the landlord would not let us stay under his roof. Upon this, I immediately went to another inn. The people made a mock of both me and my friends, as we passed along, and fire-rockets were thrown around the door. About an hour after, I received the following letter, by the hands of the constable, from the mayor:—
"'Basingstoke, July 19, 1739.
"'Sir,—Being a civil magistrate in this town, I thought it my duty, for the preservation of the peace, to forbid you, or, at least, dissuade you, from preaching here. If you persist in it, in all probability it may occasion a disturbance, which, I think, it is your duty, as a clergyman, as well as mine, to prevent. If any mischief should ensue, (whatever pretence you may afterwards make in your own behalf,) I am satisfied it will fall on your own head, being timely cautioned by me, who am, sir, your most humble servant,
"'John Abbot.
"'P.S.—The Legislature has wisely made laws for the preservation of the peace; therefore, I hope no clergyman lives in defiance of them.'"
Thus wrote Mr. Abbot, mayor of Basingstoke—a butcher by business, but a stickler for peace. Whitefield immediately answered Mr. Abbot's letter, with a high-sounding courtesy, more due to Mr. Abbot's mayoralty than to his business:—
"Honoured Sir,—I thank you for your kind letter, and I humbly hope a sense of duty, and not a fear of man, caused you to write it.
"If so, give me leave to remind you, honoured sir, that you ought to be, not only a terror of evil-doers, but a praise to them that do well. I know of no law against such meetings as mine. If any such law exists, I believe you will think it your duty, honoured sir, to apprise me of it, that I may not offend against it. If no law can be produced, I think it my duty to inform you that you ought to protect an assembly of people meeting together purely to worship God.
"To-morrow, honoured sir, I hear there is to be an assembly of another nature. Be pleased to be as careful to have the public peace preserved at that; and to prevent profane cursing and swearing, and persons bruising each other's bodies by cudgelling and wrestling. If you do not this, I shall rise up against you at the great day, and be a swift witness against your partiality.
"I am, honoured sir, your very humble servant,
"George Whitefield."
Next morning, Whitefield waited upon the magisterial butcher, to enquire about the law against his preaching. The mayor was unable to answer the preacher's enquiry, but said, "Sir, you ought to preach in a church." "So I would," replied Whitefield, "if your minister would give me leave." "Sir," said Mr. Abbot, "I believe you have some sinister ends in view. Why do you go about making a disturbance?" "I make no disturbance," answered Whitefield. "It was hard I could not come into your town without being insulted. It was your business, sir, to wait, and, if there was any riot in my meetings, then, and not till then, to interpose." "Sir," continued the zealous mayor, "you wrote to me about the revel to-day." "Yes," rejoined Whitefield, "you ought to go, and read the riot act, and put a stop to it."
Here the mayor and the preacher parted; but the contention was not ended. On the same day, the angry official, with a fair amount of scholarship for a man who handled the cleaver, as well as mace, sent to Whitefield a polished epistle, as follows:—
"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.
"Rev. Sir,—I received your extraordinary letter, and could expect no other from so uncommon a genius.
"I apprehend your meetings to be unlawful, having no toleration to protect you in it. My apprehension of religion always was, and I hope always will be, that God is to be worshipped in places consecrated and set apart for His service; and not in brothels, and places where all manner of debauchery may have been committed; but how far this is consistent with your actions, I leave you to judge.
"As for the other assembly you are pleased to mention, 'tis contrary to my will, having never given my consent to it, nor approved of it, but discouraged it before your reverendship came to this town; and, if these cudgellers persist in it, I shall set them upon the same level with you, and think you all breakers of the public peace. You very well know there are penal laws against cursing and swearing, and I could wish there were the same against deceit and hypocrisy.
"Your appearing against me as a swift witness, at the day of judgment, I must own, is a most terrible thing, and may serve as a bugbear for children, or people of weak minds; but, believe me, reverend sir, those disguises will have but little weight amongst men of common understanding.
"Yours,
"John Abbot."
To this Whitefield returned the following reply:—
"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.
"Honoured Sir—Does Mr. Mayor do well to be angry? Alas! what evil have I done? I honour you as a magistrate; but, as a minister, I am obliged to have no respect of persons. Your apprehending my meetings to be unlawful, does not make them so. There is no need of a toleration to protect me, when I do not act unconformable to any law, civil or ecclesiastical. Be pleased to prove that my meetings are schismatical, seditious, or riotous, and then I will submit.
"But you say they are upon unconsecrated ground. Honoured sir, give me leave to inform you, that God is not now confined to places. Where two or three are gathered together in Christ's name, there will Christ be in the midst of them. The Church, by our ministers in their prayer before their sermons, is defined to be, not the church walls, but a congregation of Christian people. Such is mine.
"As for judging me, to my own Master I stand or fall. At His dreadful tribunal I will meet you; and then you shall see what is in the heart of, honoured sir, your very humble servant,
"George Whitefield."