On the third day, they reached Philadelphia, where the Elizabeth, with what Whitefield calls his "family," had arrived in safety.

Pennsylvania, of which Philadelphia was the capital, was an English settlement about two hundred and fifty miles in length, and nearly the same in breadth.[277] As is well known, this large extent of territory had been granted to William Penn, the Quaker, about sixty years previous to Whitefield's visit. In 1682, Penn began to found his important colony. The soil, in general, was extremely fertile. Game of all kinds was amazingly plentiful. Deer, hares, turkeys, pheasants, partridges, wild ducks, wild geese, swans, and pigeons, were innumerable. In the immense forests, were bears, panthers, wild cats, and wolves; while, in the low grounds, were found minks, musk rats, and opossums. The woods consisted of the oak, the ash, the beech, the chestnut, the cedar, the walnut, the cypress, the hickory, the sassafras, and the pine,—all of which, in many instances, were gracefully festooned with vines. Fruits, including apples, cherries, pears, peaches, plums, and melons, grew in rich abundance. Penn's colony originally consisted chiefly of English Quakers, who, in consequence of their refusing to pay tithes and church dues, had frequently found themselves the inmates of English prisons. These, together with a few Dutch and Swedish settlers already on the ground, began to transform this glorious wilderness into a cultivated land. The Indians—the original proprietors—were treated with justice and kindness. Religious and civil freedom was made the basis of government. All persons professing to believe in one God were freely tolerated; and all who professed to believe in Jesus Christ, of whatever denomination, were eligible for government posts and offices. The result was, emigrants and refugees, of all persuasions, flocked to Pennsylvania, to put themselves under the protection of its founder's laws; lands were cultivated; towns were built; and when Penn died, about twenty years before Whitefield's first visit, the colony was, in every sense, free and flourishing.

In 1739, the population of Pennsylvania was probably not more than from fifty to a hundred thousand,[278] and consisted of Quakers, Episcopalians, Calvinists, Lutherans, Independents, Baptists, Presbyterians, and "Dumplers, a sort of German sect, who wore long beards and a habit resembling that of Friars." As might be expected, governmental power was chiefly in the hands of Quakers, and, with rare exceptions, it was humanely exercised.

Philadelphia, the chief town of the colony, stood upon a neck of land, immediately at the confluence of the rivers Delaware and Schuylkill. It was planned in an oblong form, and designed to extend two miles, from river to river There were to be eight parallel streets, all two miles in length, to be intersected by sixteen others, each in length a mile, and all of them broad, spacious, and even; with proper spaces left for the public buildings, churches, and market places. In the centre was a square of ten acres. The two principal streets were each one hundred feet wide; and most of the houses had a small garden and orchard attached to them. When William Penn began his work in 1682, Philadelphia consisted of three or four insignificant cottages. "Conies were yet undisturbed in their hereditary burrows; the deer fearlessly bounded past blazed trees, unconscious of foreboded streets; and the stranger that wandered from the river bank was lost in the thickets of an interminable forest. Two years afterwards, the place contained about six hundred houses, and the schoolmaster and the printing-press had begun their work."[279] In 1761, the population of Philadelphia was about 13,000.[280]

The state of religion, in Pennsylvania, was lamentable. The Rev. Samuel Blair, a Presbyterian minister, living at the time, observes:—

"There were some sincerely religious people, and a considerable number pretty exact in the observance of the external forms of religion; but with this, the most part seemed to rest contented, and to satisfy their consciences with a dead formality. A lamentable ignorance of the main essentials of true practical religion, and the doctrines relating thereto, generally prevailed. The nature and necessity of the new birth were but little known or thought of. The necessity of a conviction of sin and misery, in order to a saving closure with Christ, was hardly known at all. It was thought that, if there was any need of a heart-distressing sight of the soul's danger, it was only needful for the grosser sort of sinners; and for any others to be thus deeply exercised, was generally looked upon to be a great evil and temptation. There was scarcely any suspicion of the danger of depending upon self-righteousness, and not upon the righteousness of Christ alone, for salvation. The necessity of being first in Christ by a vital union, and in a justified state, before our religious services can be well-pleasing and acceptable to God, was very little understood. The common notion seemed to be, that, if people were aiming to be in the way of duty as well as they could, there was no reason to be much afraid. According to these principles, people generally were careless at heart, and stupidly indifferent about the great concerns of eternity. It was sad to see with what a careless behaviour the public ordinances were attended, and how people were given to worldly discourse on the Lord's-day. In public companies, a vain and frothy lightness was apparent in the deportment of many professors. Religion, as it were, lay a-dying, and ready to expire its last breath of life in this part of the visible church."[281]

It is hoped that this brief account of Pennsylvania will not be thought irrelevant. It was here that Whitefield began his itinerant career in England's transatlantic colonies. During the four months he had spent in Georgia, in 1738, his ministry had been earnest, but regular. Now, in Pennsylvania, he became what he had been, for seven months in England, not a fixed star, but a flaming comet, his course eccentric, and calculated to alarm episcopal, presbyterian, and other kinds of precisians in the English settlements, quite as much as the same sort of methodical religionists had been alarmed in England. In both countries his action was unpremeditated. On his return to England, at the end of 1738, he had not the least idea of becoming an open-air and itinerant evangelist. He came to be ordained a priest, and to collect subscriptions for his contemplated Orphan House. In like manner, when he returned to America in 1739, he had no conception that the next fourteen months would be occupied as they were. He was intentionally returning to Savannah, there, for about a year, to fulfil the duties of his office as a regular appointed minister of the Church of England, and also, in such a capacity, to provide a home for the orphans of his parish. Instead of this, however, most of his time, as will soon be seen, was spent, not in Georgia, but in itinerating in the other English settlements. This was exceedingly irregular; but, looking at results, who will say that it was wrong? When he arrived at Philadelphia, he did not intend it; but, unquestionably, his Master did. The churches in the English colonies needed a religious impulse quite as much as the churches of the mother-country. Under God, the young evangelist and his fellows had moved and agitated England; and now he was employed, by a Providence which cannot err, and greatly to his own surprise, in moving and agitating America. Let us follow him.

After riding, during the day, sixty miles, through woods and forests and partially cultivated lands, he arrived at Philadelphia, at eleven o'clock at night, on Friday, November 2, 1739. Where he slept, we are not informed; perhaps, nowhere; for most likely, at such an hour, the sober-minded Philadelphians had all retired to rest. Next morning, he "went on board the Elizabeth to see his family;" he visited the officials of the town; he held Christian communion "with some gracious souls;" and he "hired a house at a very cheap rate, and was quite settled in it before night."

Sunday, Nov. 4. He "read prayers and assisted at the communion in the morning; dined with one of the churchwardens, and preached to a large congregation in the afternoon; went in the evening to a Quakers' meeting, and heartily wished they would talk of an outward as well as inward Christ."

Monday, Nov. 5. He "read prayers and preached to a large auditory; dined with the other churchwarden; was visited in the afternoon by the Presbyterian minister; went afterwards to see the Baptist minister; and spent part of the evening most agreeably with two loving Quakers."

Tuesday, Nov. 6. He "read prayers and preached; went to the funeral of a Quaker's child, and, as none of the Quakers spoke, he gave a word of exhortation; was visited in the evening by the Presbyterian and Baptist ministers; and admitted some women to prayers with his family."

Wednesday, Nov. 7. He "read prayers and preached in the church; and gave a word of exhortation to more than a room full of people at his own hired house."

Thursday, Nov. 8. He "read prayers and preached to a more numerous congregation than he had seen yet; dined with an honest, open-hearted, true Israelitish Quaker; and preached, in the evening, from the Court-house stairs, to about six thousand people."

Friday, Nov. 9. He "read prayers and preached as usual in the morning; was visited in a kind manner by the minister of the parish; and preached again at six in the evening, from the Court-house stairs, to, he believed, nearly eight thousand hearers. Even in London, he never observed a more profound silence. The night was clear, but not cold; and lights were in most of the windows round about."

Saturday, Nov. 10. "About eleven, he read prayers and preached in the church; then dined with the minister of the parish; at his return home, was much comforted by the coming of Mr. Tennent, an old grey-headed disciple and soldier of Jesus Christ; about three, went to the prison, and preached on the trembling jailor; returned home with the Swedish minister and Mr. Tennent; conversed with them of the things of God; and, in the evening, preached, to as large a congregation as there was the night before, from the Court-house stairs." He adds: "I continued my discourse above an hour, and, when I had finished, the people seemed so unwilling to go, that I began to pray afresh, and I hope the Lord sent them home not without a blessing. After preaching, my house was filled with people who came to join in psalms and family prayer. Many wept most bitterly whilst I was praying. Their hearts seemed to be loaded with a sense of sin, the only preparative for the visitation of Jesus Christ. Blessed be the Lord for sending me hither! Lord, give me humility, and make me truly thankful! Amen, Lord Jesus!"