“My dear Mr. S——, As far as I can judge of the circumstances you related to me, settling, as you propose, would not hinder, but ratherfurther, you in your present work. Only beware of nestling. If you do, and God loves you, you shall have thorns enough put into your nest. O that I may be enabled, even to the end, to evidence that nothing but a pure disinterested love to Christ and souls caused me to begin, go on, and hold out, in pursuing the present work of God! I have seen so many who once bid exceedingly fair, and afterwards, Demas-like, preferred the world to Christ, that I cannot be too jealous over myself, or others whom I profess to love. This is my motive in writing to you. O let no one take away your crown. If you marry, let it be in the Lord, and for the Lord, and then the Lord will give it His blessing. Only remember this, marry when or whom you will, expect trouble in the flesh. But I spare you. Seven years hence, if we should live and meet, we can talk better of these things. Meanwhile, let us go on leaning on our Beloved. He, and He alone, can keep us unspotted from the world.”
Shortly after this, Whitefield had a serious illness, which he called a “violent fever,” and which kept him confined to his room nearly a fortnight. As soon as he was able, he resumed his preaching, and also his correspondence. To one of his friends, he wrote: “December 17th. Yesterday, I entered upon my seven-and-thirtieth year. I am ashamed to think I have lived so long, and done so little.” To another: “December 21. I have been near the gates of death, which has hindered my answering your kind letter as soon as I proposed. I shall be glad to know your friend’s answer about Georgia. If the Lord raises up a solid, heavenly-minded, learned young man for a tutor, I shall be glad. Nothing, I believe, but sickness or death, will prevent my going over next year. Methinks the winter is long. I want to take the field again.”
Whitefield longed to be in America; and, notwithstanding past revivals, America was in need of him. Hence the following extract from a hitherto unpublished letter, kindly lent by Mr. Stampe, of Grimsby:—
“Philadelphia, December 15, 1750.
“Reverend and dear Brother,—Religion, at present, is very low in general in this country. A great deadness prevails, and few appear to be converted; but the Church of Christ, I trust, is, in some measure, edified by the word of God. We wish and hope for better times. I am glad that you are able to continue your itinerancy, and that with such encouragement and success. May your life and labours be long continued, and be blessed to the great increase of Christ’s kingdom on earth, and the brightening of your own crown in heaven!
“I am much obliged to you, dear sir, for the hope you gave me, in aletter I received from you, of doing something among your friends to assist us in completing the new house of public worship, which we are erecting. Some time ago, I told you of the difficult and necessitous state of our case; and I may now add, that we are likely to lose many hundreds of pounds that were promised. This is very discouraging. However, we have got the house covered, and hope to have the pleasure of hearing you preach in it next fall. Dear sir, as I know your hearty good-will towards the interests of religion in general, and towards us in particular, I cannot but believe that you will compassionate us, and will use your best endeavours for us, I forbear incitements to a mind that needs them not. I salute yourself and your consort with cordial respect; and remain yours as formerly,
“Gilbert Tennent.”
Whitefield was always ready to assist his friends, both at home and abroad. Just at this juncture, Moses Browne, with his large family, was in pecuniary embarrassment. Lady Fanny Shirley took great interest in his case,and applied to the Duchess of Somerset[295] and others to afford him help.[296] Whitefield refers to this in the following letter to Lady Fanny:—
“London, December 25, 1750.
“Honoured Madam,—Poor Mr. Browne is much obliged to your ladyship for speaking in his behalf. He happened to be with me when your ladyship’s letter came. The reception your kind motion met with, convinces me more and more that, ‘Be ye warmed, and be ye filled,’ without giving anything to be warmed and filled with, is the farthest that most professors go. Words are cheap, and cost nothing. I often told the poor man that his dependence was too strong, and that I was afraid help would not come from the quarter where he most expected. He sends ten thousand thanks for what your ladyship has done already. Surely he is worthy. He is a lover of Christ, and his outward circumstances are very pitiable. Your ladyship will not be offended at the liberty I take. You love to help the distressed to the utmost of your power; and your ladyship shall find that good measure, pressed down and running over, shall be returned into your bosom.”