“After the service, many came weeping bitterly around me. Abundance of prayers were put up for my safe passage to England, and speedy return to Bermudas. Thanks be to the Lord for sending me hither! I have been received in a manner I dared not expect, and have met with little, very little, opposition. The inhabitants seem to be plain and open-hearted. They have also been open-handed; for they have loaded me with provisions for my voyage, and, by a private voluntary contribution, have raised me upwards of £100 sterling. This will pay a little of Bethesda’s debt, and enable me to make such a remittance to my dear yoke-fellow,as may keep her from being embarrassed in my absence.”[188]

This was Whitefield’s only visit to Bermudas. He wrote: “An entrance is now made into the islands. The Lord, who has begun, can and will carry on His own work.” It was long before Whitefield’s hope was realized. Fifty-one years afterwards, Wesley’s Methodist Conference sent to the islands the Rev. John Stephenson. The white population hated the missionary, because he was the friend of the enslaved blacks; and, before long, he was apprehended, tried, condemned, and sentenced to six months’ imprisonment, besides having to pay a fine of £50, and all the expenses of his trial. At the end of his imprisonment, Mr. Stephenson was expelled the colony, and the Methodist mission was abandoned. Eight years afterwards, it was resumed by the Rev. Joshua Marsden; in due time, it had the honour of giving to Methodism the well-known Rev. Edward Frazer; and, in this year, 1876, it has three missionaries, and between four and five hundred church members.

On the 2nd of June, Whitefield embarked for England, the wife of the governor of Bermudas being one of his fellow passengers. When approaching the end of his voyage, he wrote, as follows, to a friend:—

“On Board the ‘Betsy,’ June 24, 1748.

Rev. and very dear Sir,—Though we are about two hundred leagues from land, yet, lest hurry of business should prevent me when we get ashore, I think proper to write you a few lines whilst I am on board.

“We sailed from Bermudas twenty-one days ago, and have lived, as to the conveniences of eating and drinking, like people from the continent, rather than from one of the islands; so bountiful were our friends, whomwe left behind us. Hitherto, we have met with no storms or contrary winds. The first day we came out, we were chased; and, yesterday, a large French vessel shot thrice at us, and bore down upon us. We gave up all for lost; and I was dressing to receive our expected visitors; when our captain cried, ‘The danger is over;’ and the Frenchman turned about and left us. He was quite near, and we were almost defenceless. Now we are so near the Channel, we expect such alarms daily.

“The captain is exceedingly civil, and I have my passage free; but all I have been able to do, in respect to religious duties, is to read the Church prayers once every evening, and twice on Sundays. I have not preached yet. This may spare my lungs, but it grieves my heart. I long to be ashore, if it were for no other reason.

“Besides, I can do little in respect to writing. You may guess how it is, when I tell you we have four gentlewomen in the cabin. However, they have been very civil, and I believe my being on board has been serviceable. I have finished my abridgment of Mr. Law’s ‘Serious Call,’ which I have endeavoured to gospelize. Yesterday, I made an end of revising all my Journals. I purpose to have a new edition before I see America.

“Alas, alas! In how many things have I judged and acted wrong! I have been too rash and hasty in giving characters, both of places and persons. Being fond of Scripture language, I have often used a style too apostolical; and, at the same time, I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wild-fire has been mixed with it: and I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assistance of the Spirit of God. I have, likewise, too much made impressions my rule of acting; and have published too soon, and too explicitly, what had been better told after my death. By these things, I have hurt the blessed cause I would defend, and have stirred up needless opposition. This has much humbled me, since I have been on board, and has made me think of a saying of Mr. Henry’s, ‘Joseph had more honesty than he had policy, or he would never have told his dreams.’

“At the same time, I cannot but bless and praise that good and gracious God, who filled me with so much of His holy fire, and carried me, a poor weak youth, through such a torrent both of popularity and contempt, and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless Him for ripening my judgment a little more, and for giving me to see and confess, and, I hope, in some degree, to correct and amend, some of my mistakes. If I have time before we land, I think to write a short account of what has happened for these seven years last past; and, when I get on shore, I purpose to revise and correct the first part of my Life.”