From an account book, in which Whitefield entered the times and places of his ministerial labours, it appears that, during his remarkable career, he preached upwards of eighteen thousand sermons.[262] Of these, only eighty-one have been printed; and even this number includes eighteen preached during the last seven years of Whitefield's life, and which can hardly be regarded as authentic, inasmuch as they were taken in shorthand as delivered from the pulpit, and were printed without Whitefield's revision, consent, or knowledge. This reduces the number of his authentic discourses to sixty-three. By these, the public have been accustomed to form their opinions of Whitefield as a theologian and a preacher; and, because the sermons are, in many respects, exceedingly defective, the judgments pronounced respecting Whitefield's intellectual culture, biblical learning, and literary skill, have not been favourable. This is an unintended injustice to his character and fame. How stands the case?
During his lifetime, Whitefield prepared about sixty-three of his sermons for the public press. Of these, twenty have been already noticed in the foregoing pages. Add to these the twenty-six sermons, included in the list just given, and all preached during the year 1739, and it will be found, that, of the sixty-three authentic sermons, printed in Whitefield's collected works, at least forty-six were preached, and committed to the press, before he was twenty-five years of age. Is it fair that Whitefield's sermonising abilities should be determined by these juvenile productions?
Want of space renders it impossible to enlarge upon the remaining twenty-six sermons not already noticed; and yet, as the year, in which these sermons were delivered, was, in many respects, the most important period of Whitefield's life, a few extracts, even at the expense of wearying the reader, must be given.
Spiritual Pride.—"To check all suggestions to spiritual pride, let us consider that we did not apprehend Christ, but were apprehended of Him; that we have nothing but what we have received; that the free grace of God has alone made the difference between us and others; that were God to leave us to the deceitfulness of our own hearts, but one moment, we should become weak and wicked like other men; that being proud of grace is the most ready way to lose it; and that were we endowed with the perfections of seraphims, if we were proud of those perfections, they would but render us more accomplished devils." (Sermon on Satan's Devices.)
Catholic Spirit.—"When we confine the Spirit of God to this or that particular church, and are not willing to converse with any but those of the same communion, this is to be righteous over-much with a witness; and so it is to confine our communion within church walls, and to think that Jesus could not be in a field, as well as on consecrated ground. This is Judaism; this is bigotry; this is like Peter, who would not go to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, till he had a vision sent from God. The Spirit of God is the centre of unity; and wherever I see the image of my Master, I never enquire of them their opinions: I ask them not what they are, so they love Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth; but embrace them as my brother, my sister, and my spouse. This is the spirit of Christianity. Many persons who are bigots to this or that opinion, when one of a different way of thinking has come where they were, have left the room or place on that account. This is the spirit of the devil; and, if it were possible that these persons could be admitted into heaven with these tempers, that very place would be a hell to them. Christianity will never flourish till we are all of one heart and of one mind. This may be esteemed as enthusiasm and madness, and as a design to undermine the Established Church: no, God is my judge, I should rejoice to see all the world adhere to her Articles. I am a friend to her Articles. I am a friend to her Homilies. I am a friend to her Liturgy; and, if they did not thrust me out of their churches, I would read them every day; but I do not confine the Spirit of God there, for, I say it again, I love all that love the Lord Jesus Christ." (Sermon on the Folly and Danger of not being Righteous enough.)
Innocent Diversions.—"They talk of innocent diversions and recreations. For my part, I know of no diversion but that of doing good. If you can find any diversion which is not contrary to your baptismal vow, of renouncing the pomps and vanities of this wicked world; if you can find any diversion which tends to the glory of God; if you can find any diversion which you would be willing to be found at by the Lord Jesus Christ, I give you my free license to go to them. But if, on the contrary, they are found to keep sinners from coming to the Lord Jesus Christ; if they are a means to harden the heart, and such as you would not willingly be found in when you come to die, then, my dear brethren, keep from them. Many of you may think I have gone too far, but I shall go a great deal farther yet. I will attack the devil in his strongest holds, and bear my testimony against our fashionable and polite entertainments. What pleasure is there in spending several hours at cards? Is it not misspending your precious time, which should be spent in working out your salvation with fear and trembling? Do play-houses, horse-racing, balls, and assemblies tend to promote the glory of God? Would you be willing to have your souls demanded of you while you are at one of those places? What good can come from a horse-race, from abusing God Almighty's creatures, and putting them to a use He never designed them? The play-houses are nurseries of debauchery, and the supporters of them are encouragers and promoters of all the evil that is done there. They are the bane of the age, and will be the destruction of the frequenters of them. Is it not high time for the true ministers of Jesus Christ to lift up their voices as a trumpet, and cry aloud against the diversions of the age? If you have tasted of the love of God, and have felt His power upon your souls, you would no more go to a play than you would run your heads into a furnace. And what occasions these places to be so much frequented is the clergy's making no scruple to be at these polite entertainments themselves. They frequent play-houses; they go to horse-races; they go to balls and assemblies; they frequent taverns, and follow all the entertainments that the age affords; and, yet, these are the persons who should advise their hearers to refrain from them. They always go disguised, for they are afraid of being seen in their gowns and cassocks; for their consciences inform them that it is not an example fit for the ministers of the gospel to set." (Ibid.)
"Those, my brethren, are not weary and heavy-laden with a sense of their sins, who can delight themselves in the polite entertainments of the age. Now they can go to balls and assemblies, play-houses and horse-racing. They have no thought of their sins. They know not what it is to weep for sin, or humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. They can laugh away their sorrows, and sing away their cares. They are too polite to entertain any sad thoughts, and the talk of death and judgment is irksome to them, because it damps their mirth. They could not go to a play, and think of hell. They could not go quietly to a masquerade, and think of their danger. They could not go to a ball, if they thought of their sins. But, at the day of judgment, all will be over. All their carnal mirth, all their pleasure, all their delight, will be gone for ever. They think now that if they were to fast, or to pray, and meditate and mourn, they would be righteous over-much. Their lives would be a continual trouble, and it would make them mad. Alas! my brethren, what misery must that life be, where there are no more pleasant days, no more balls, or plays, no cards, or dice, no horse-racing, and cock-fighting! How miserable will your life be when all your joys are over, when your pleasures are all past, no more mirth, or pastime! Do you think, my brethren, there is one merry heart in hell? one pleasing countenance? or jesting, scoffing, swearing tongue? A sermon now is irksome. The offer of salvation, by the blood of Jesus Christ, is now termed enthusiasm; but there you would give a thousand worlds for one offer of mercy, which now you so much despise. Now you are not weary of your diversions, nor heavy-laden with the sins with which they are accompanied; but then you will be weary of your punishments. Your cards and dice, your hawks and hounds, your bowls and pleasant sports, will then be over! What mirth will you have in remembering them!" (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary and Heavy-laden.)
"What good can proceed from play-houses, where God is profaned, the devil honoured, your time misspent, your souls endangered? Dare any of you who profess Christianity, frequent these places? Would you be willing to be found at a play, or reading one, when God demands your souls? If so, why do not you, when upon a sick or dying bed, instead of sending for a minister to pray with you, send for a comedian to comfort you through the dark valley of the shadow of death? But though these things are so destructive, our learned Rabbins do not warn the people of their danger. No; they are too great frequenters of them themselves. If you come to hear a sermon, your families are ruined, they are neglected. This is the cry of the Pharisees of this generation; but if you spend six times the time at a play-house, at a ball, at an assembly, at cards, dice, or any of their polite entertainments, nothing is said then against ruining your families, or losing your business. But, my brethren, ask yourselves which will be best, at a dying hour, to think you spent so much time at a play, a ball, or a neighbouring place of vanity;[263] or of hearing the word of God from a poor despised field-preacher? from a mountebank? from a babbler, as the world is pleased to term me? You may call this enthusiasm, if you like; but I speak the truth, I lie not; these diversions, these innocent, polite, fashionable entertainments of the age, are only hurrying the infidels, who attend them, faster to hell. What is the common language of these polite entertainments, but the language of hell? What are their frequent prayers, but for damnation? Will these polite and fashionable entertainments bring you to Jesus Christ? Will they make you sensible of the need you have of Him? Can you see the necessity of being born again, by following horse-racing, and by seeing a poor abused creature carrying its rider faster into hell? But what makes these places to be the more frequented, is, the clergy make no scruple about being there themselves. They neglect the work of their calling. Their sermons are but a week's study to please the ears of the people, or to advance their own reputation. If they were here, I, a boy, would tell them to their face that they do not preach the doctrines of the Reformation; that they feed not their hearers with food convenient for them. No: Seneca, Cicero, Plato, or any of the heathen philosophers would preach as good doctrine as we hear in most of our churches. Our ministers subscribe to their Articles, and think no more about them. They use them as a key to get preferment; and, when they have got it, they put the key into their pockets. Many, very many of our clergy, know no more of regeneration than Nicodemus did, when he came to Christ by night. To talk of feeling the Spirit of God, is esteemed as nonsense; and persons have been forbidden the sacrament only for reading my books; but, as my books and sermons are agreeable to the doctrines of Jesus Christ, I dare venture my salvation on the truth of them." (Sermon on the Polite and Fashionable Diversions of the Age.)[264]
"The clergy charge us with being over-righteous; but let them take care lest they are not over-remiss. Let them examine their own lives before they condemn others for enthusiasts. It is manifest that their actions are unbecoming of Christians, and more especially of ministers of the Church of England. They make no scruple of frequenting taverns and public-houses. They make no conscience of playing several hours at billiards, bowls, and other unlawful games, which they esteem as innocent diversions. Plurality of livings, and not the salvation of your souls, is the aim, the chief aim, of many, very many, of our present clergy. They have quite forsaken the good old way, and brought up a new one which their fathers knew not. They don't catechise. They don't visit from house to house. They don't watch over their flocks, by examining their lives. They keep up no constant religious conversation in families under their care. No, my brethren, these things are neglected; and if they were to be acted by any one, the person would be esteemed as an enthusiast, and as righteous over-much. We may justly cry to my letter-learned brethren, 'Physicians, heal yourselves.' Don't flatter yourselves that a long gown, and great preferment, authorise you to speak, write, or preach against the doctrines of our Lord Jesus Christ. No, my letter-learned, pleasure-seeking brethren, Jesus Christ, at the day of judgment, will judge you, not as doctors and rulers, but by the deeds done in the body, whether they be good, or whether they be evil. At the great day, we shall all be upon a level. No distinction there! No difference there! If they had preached Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth, I would not have opened my mouth against them; but when they exclaim, 'The temple of the Lord! the temple of the Lord!' and are building up the temple of the devil, if I were not to preach, the very stones would cry out. They may thrust me out of their churches, but they cannot thrust me from the Church of Christ. They are welcome to say what they please of me. They may cast me out, and say all manner of evil against me; yea, they may put me to death; but as my day is, so my strength shall be. I have a gracious Master, and into His hands I commit myself, and leave all my affairs to His wise discretion." (Sermon on Jesus Christ the only Way of Salvation.)[265]
It would be easy to multiply extracts like these; but, to exhibit more fully the character of Whitefield's preaching, a few of another kind must be introduced.
Self-Righteousness.—"How many are there who go to church, and say their prayers, and receive the sacrament, and give alms to the poor, and then think themselves good Christians, because they have done so; and when we tell them that all this will not do, they immediately cry out, we are preaching them to despair. But, O good God! Thou knowest that I wish I could bring all men off from this undoing delusion, that will but betray them into everlasting misery. It is because I know such persons are more odious, in the sight of God, than the vilest sinners, that makes me so earnest in warning them of their guilt and danger; for I have more hope of common swearers, drunkards, fornicators, Sabbath-breakers, and harlots, and of deists and infidels, than I have of such self-righteous Pharisees. It is against these that almost all our Saviour's parables are levelled. If you depend upon your own duties, you are but Pharisees and hypocrites, for hypocrites may do all this as the Pharisees did. There is no doubt that you are to do your duty; but, if you depend upon your duties, you make a Saviour of them, and deny the righteousness of our Lord Jesus Christ. You may go in an easy, decent, and polite way of religion, and obtain a reputation in the sight of men; but you are odious in the sight of God, and incarnate devils within." (Sermon on the Necessity of the Righteousness of Christ.)[266]
"O ye Pharisees, what fruits do ye bring forth? Why, you are moral, polite creatures. You do your endeavours, and Jesus is to make up the rest. You esteem yourselves fine, rational, and polite beings, and think it is too unfashionable to pray. It is not polite enough. Perhaps you have read some prayers, but knew not how to pray from your hearts. No, by no means! That was being righteous over-much! But if once, my brethren, you were sensible of your being lost, damned creatures, and see hell gaping ready to receive you, then, O then, you would cry earnestly unto the Lord to receive you, to open the door of mercy unto you. Your tones would then be changed. You would no more flatter yourselves with your abilities and good wishes. No: you would see how unable you were to save yourselves; that there is no fitness, no free-will in you: no fitness but for eternal damnation; and no free-will but that of doing evil. Ye Pharisees, who are going about to establish your own righteousness; who are too polite to follow the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and truth; who are all for a little show, a little outside work; who lead moral, civil, decent lives, Christ will not know you at the great day, but will say unto you, 'Depart from me, ye workers of iniquity, unto that place of torment, prepared for the devil and his angels.' Good God! and must these discreet, polite creatures, who never did any one harm, but led such civil, decent lives, must they suffer the vengeance of eternal fire? Cannot their righteous souls be saved? Where then must the sinner and the ungodly appear?" (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary.)
Warnings.—"O the folly and madness of this sensual world! O consider this, you who think it no crime to swear, whore, drink, or scoff and jeer at the people of God,—consider how your voices will then be changed, and how you will howl and lament at your own madness and folly. He, who is now your merciful Saviour, will then be your inexorable Judge. Now He is easy to be entreated; then all your tears and prayers will be in vain. Your wealth and grandeur will stand you in no stead. You can carry nothing of these into the other world. What horror and astonishment will then possess your souls! Then all your lies and oaths, your scoffs and jeers at the people of God, all your filthy and unclean thoughts and actions, will be brought at once to your remembrance, and at once be charged upon your guilty souls." (Sermon on a New Heart, the best New-Year's Gift.)
"Alas! our great men had much rather spend their money in a play-house, at a ball, an assembly, or a masquerade, than in relieving a poor distressed servant of Jesus Christ. They had rather spend their estates on their hawks and hounds, on their whores, and on their earthly, sensual, and devilish pleasures, than in comforting, nourishing, or relieving one of their distressed fellow-creatures. But what difference is there between the king on the throne and the beggar on the dunghill, when God demands their breath? There is no difference in the grave. There will be none at the day of judgment. You will not be excused because you have had a great estate, and a fine house, and have lived in all the pleasures that earth could afford you. You will be judged not according to the largeness of your estate, but according to the use you have made of it." (Sermon on the great Duty of Charity recommended.)
"Sinners! how fearful soever you may be of appearing before this tribunal, you will be obliged to do it. Then you will call for the rocks and mountains to fall upon you, to hide you from the face of the Lord God. Then you will see Him whom your sins have pierced. Then you will be called to answer for your revilings and mockings against the people of God. Then it will plainly appear who are the enthusiasts, and who the madmen. Then we shall see who have been fools, and who were the fitter for Bedlam." (Sermon on the Serpent's beguiling Eve.)
"Oh! brethren, it is a certain, but an awful truth, that your souls will be thinking and immortal beings, even in spite of themselves. They may indeed torment, but they cannot destroy themselves. They can no more suspend their power of thought and perception, than a mirror its property of reflecting rays that fall upon its surface. Do you suspect the contrary? Make the trial immediately. Command your minds to cease from thinking but for one quarter of an hour. Can you succeed in that attempt? Or rather, does not thought press in with a more sensible violence on that resistance; just as an anxious desire to sleep makes us so much the more wakeful? Thus will thought follow you beyond the grave. Thus will it, as an unwelcome guest, force itself upon you, when it can serve only to perplex and distress you. It will for ever upbraid you, that notwithstanding the kind expostulations of God and man, notwithstanding the keen remonstrances of conscience, and the pleadings of the blood of Christ, you have gone on in your folly, till heaven is lost, and damnation incurred; and all for what? for a shadow and a dream!" (Sermon on the Care of the Soul urged as the One Thing Needful.)
Entreaties.—"You all, my brethren, must be born again. You must feel yourselves lost and undone in yourselves, or there is no salvation for you in the Lord Jesus Christ. Men may be angry with me for telling you these things, and may come and carry me to prison, or to death; but my inward satisfaction at having been made instrumental of bringing any poor sinners home to Jesus Christ, I esteem more than a balance for all that I can suffer: If this is to be vile, I beg of God I may be yet more vile. If this is to be mad, I pray God I may be yet more mad, in my Master's cause. Let His own will be done in me, with me, by me, and upon me, so I may not be brought as a witness against you in the great day. As this is my last time of speaking to you, in this place, I would invite you the more earnestly to come to the Lord Jesus Christ. O do not lay the blame of your perishing upon our doctrine. Do not lay the fault upon us; for the Lord now sends His servants to call and invite you to Him; and if you still refuse both Him and us, what must I say? I must appear in judgment against you; and, oh! what shall I say? The very thought, methinks, chills my blood." (Sermon on the Necessity of the Righteousness of Christ.)
"I come to you, not with the enticing words of man's wisdom, but with plainness of speech. Perhaps many may slight me for this way of preaching; but I am not willing to go without you to Christ. It is a love for your better part that constrains me. O that I had ten thousand lives to give away, that I might win you to Christ! Had I the tongue of an angel, that I might speak so loud that the whole world could hear me, I would bid the Christian world preach a common salvation, a common Saviour, unto all who lay hold on Him by faith. Are you seeking where to wash? I tell you not to go to the river Jordan, but to the blood of Christ. You need not fear to go. Though He has given His grace to thousands, He has still enough. Come, ye publicans; come, ye harlots; come to Jesus Christ. O do not let me go without my errand. Do not force me to say, 'Who has believed my report?' I cannot bear the thought of it. I must lift up my voice, like a trumpet, begging you to lay down your arms, and to return home, that your loving Father may dress you in His spotless robe. Come and see whether Christ will make ample recompence for all, for more than all this world can give. Consider, if you do not, your damnation is from yourselves. Must I weep over you, as our Saviour did over Jerusalem? I beseech you, by all that is good and dear to you, do not cast away your souls for ever. O mind, in this your day, the things that belong to your peace, before they are for ever hidden from your eyes. Could I speak with the tongues of men or angels, with all the rhetoric possible, I could never tell the worth of Christ. He is a good Master; indeed He is. I wish all that hear me this day would lay hold on Him, by faith, and take Him on His own terms. Do not be angry with me for my love. How glad would I be to bring some of you to God! Come! He calls you by His ministers. Bring your sins with you, that He may make you saints. He will sanctify all who believe on Him." (Sermon on Watching, the peculiar Duty of a Christian.)
"Come, come unto Him. If your souls were not immortal, and you in danger of losing them, I would not thus speak unto you; but the love of your souls constrains me to speak. Methinks, this would constrain me to speak unto you for ever. Come, all ye drunkards, swearers, Sabbath-breakers, adulterers, fornicators! Come, all ye scoffers, harlots, thieves, and murderers; and Jesus Christ will save you. He will give you rest, if you are weary of your sins." (Sermon on Christ the only Rest for the Weary.)
"O fly, fly unto the Lord Jesus Christ. I invite you all to accept of Him. I offer Jesus Christ to the greatest profligate on earth. Surely, there are none can say, I preach damnation now. They cannot say I am sending you to hell now. No, my brethren, I preach salvation to all of you, who will come and accept the Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! I know not how to leave you, without some hopes of your coming to Him." (Sermon on Polite and Fashionable Diversions.)
"The devil shews men the bait, but hides the hook. He promises great wages; but his wages are really death here, and eternal damnation hereafter. If you want to know more what wages the devil gives his servants, you need not stir from the place where you now are. Look yonder,[267] and there you will see how he pays them. He seeks your souls to destroy them; but, my brethren, fear him not. Though he is your enemy, he is a chained one. He can go no farther than he is permitted. He could not hurt a herd of swine, till he had leave of Jesus Christ." (Sermon on the Danger of Man resulting from Sin.)
These are long extracts, at the end of an inconveniently long chapter; but, it must be borne in mind, that, the fame of Whitefield chiefly rests on his character as a preacher; and that there are only thirty-five of his published sermons which belong to dates subsequent to the year 1739; and that even more than half of these were taken from his lips, in shorthand, and printed without his revision or consent.
It is scarcely necessary to enlarge upon the foregoing extracts. The reader can form his own opinions of Whitefield's oratory, courage, tenderness, earnestness, and fidelity. He can also judge of the young preacher's imprudence, perhaps rudeness, in using language so violent concerning the clergy of the Established Church. One fact, however, must be noted. These sermons, as originally published, contain scarcely any allusion whatever to Calvinian tenets. Whitefield, no doubt, became a Calvinist; but this change in his theology did not occur, until he was about to embark, the second time, for Georgia. Indeed, though, in the seventeen sermons which remain unnoticed, and which were written and revised by Whitefield himself, there are passages embodying the doctrines of election and final perseverance; also passages on imputed righteousness and sinless perfection, propounding views not in harmony with those of his friend Wesley; yet such passages, comparatively speaking, are few in number, and are totally exempt from bitterness. It is also right to add, that, Whitefield's Calvinism never interfered with his warmhearted declarations concerning the universality of redeeming love, and the willingness of Christ to save all who come to Him. Doubtless there was some degree of inconsistency in this; but it only shews that the man's heart was larger than his creed.
Excepting two or three, there is nothing in the remaining seventeen sermons just mentioned which requires further notice. They are, however, in most respects, his ablest and his best. There is less incoherency of thought and language. There is an entire absence of attacks on the clergy of the Church of England. The style is more polished; the sentences more finished. There is more biblical and anecdotal illustration. And there is a greater depth of religious feeling and experience.
Excellent, however, as these sermons are, they necessarily fail to convey a full idea of Whitefield's marvellous preaching power. His words could be printed, but not his intonations, action, tears, smiles, solemnity, and pathos. Whitefield was born an orator. His oratory was the gift of his Creator. He could not be natural without using it. To have laid it aside would have been affectation. His oratory, however, is a thing not to be seen in his published sermons, but to be imagined. There was eloquence in his very attitudes, in the accents of his voice, in his gestures, in the features of his face, and in the motions of his hands. These things could not be printed. To say nothing of his almost unequalled voice, his versatility was wonderful. At will, he could be a Boanerges, or a Barnabas. One moment, he would thunder on Mount Sinai; the next, would whisper mercy on Mount Calvary. At all times, he was inexpressibly earnest, and his hearers felt he believed the truths he uttered. A writer, in the New York Observer, eloquently observes:—