Whitefield, most assuredly, was in a “delusive dream,” if he thought such remarks applicable to Wesley.
It was now seventeen years since Whitefield preached his first sermon, and he lived to preach seventeen years after this. He was in the middle of his marvellous ministry. Numerous specimens of his early discourses have been already given; and it may be useful to furnish two extracts from the sermons now in question, to assist the reader in forming an idea of the great preacher’s style of address, at the present period of his life. The first is from the sermon on “Beholding the Lamb of God.”
“If you can bear to be spectators of such an awful tragedy, I must now entreat you to enter the garden of Gethsemane. But, stop! What is that we see? Behold the Lamb of God undergoing the most direful tortures of vindictive wrath! Of the people, even of His disciples, there is none with Him. Alas! was ever sorrow like unto that sorrow, wherewith His innocent soul was afflicted in this day of His Father’s fierce anger? BeforeHe entered into this bitter passion, out of the fulness of His heart, He said, ‘Now is my soul troubled.’ But how is it troubled now? His agony bespeaks it to be ‘exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.’ It extorts sweat, yea, a bloody sweat. His face, His hands, His garments, are all stained with blood. It extorts strong cryings, and many tears. See how the incarnate Deity lies prostrate before His Father, who now laid on Him the iniquities of us all! See how He agonizes in prayer! Hark! Again and again He addresses His Father with an ‘if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!’ Tell me, ye blessed angels, tell me, Gabriel (or whatsoever thou art called), who wast sent from heaven in this important hour, to strengthen our agonizing Lord,—tell me, if ye can, what Christ endured in this dark and doleful night! And tell me, tell me what you yourselves felt, when you heard this same God-man, whilst expiring on the accursed tree, breaking forth into that dolorous, unheard-of expostulation, ‘My God, my God, why, or how hast Thou forsaken me?’ Were you not all struck dumb? And did not an awful silence fill heaven itself, when God the Father said unto His sword, ‘Sword, smite thy fellow!’ Well might nature put on its sable weeds. Well might the rocks rend, to shew their sympathy with a suffering Saviour. And well might the sun withdraw its light, as though shocked and confounded to see its Maker die.”
The next extract is from the sermon on “Peter’s Denial of his Lord,” and describes Peter repenting.
“Methinks I see him wringing his hands, rending his garments, stamping on the ground, and, with the self-condemned publican, smiting upon his breast. See how it heaves! O what piteous sighs and groans are those which come from the very bottom of his heart. Alas! it is too big to speak; but his tears, his briny, bitter, repenting tears, plainly bespeak this to be the language of his awakened soul. ‘Alas! where have I been? On the devil’s ground. With whom have I been conversing? The devil’s children. What is this that I have done? Denied the Lord of glory;—with oaths and curses, denied that I ever knew Him. And now whither shall I go? or where shall I hide my guilty head? I have sinned against light. I have sinned against repeated tokens of His dear, distinguishing, and heavenly love. I have sinned against repeated warnings, resolutions, promises, and vows. I have sinned openly in the face of the sun, and in the presence of my Master’s enemies; and, thereby, have caused His name to be blasphemed. How can I think of being suffered to behold the face of, much less to be employed by, the ever-blessed Jesus any more? O Peter! thou hast undone thyself. Justly mayest thou be thrown aside like a broken vessel. God be merciful to me a sinner!’”
Even if he had wished, John Wesley would have found it difficult to preach in a style like this. Let the taste be good or bad, there cannot be a doubt that, with Whitefield’s dramatic action and unequalled voice, the effect of sucheloquence would be next to overpowering. We return to Whitefield’s correspondence.
One of the London ministers, who had been benefited by Whitefield’s ministry, was the Rev. Mr. Steward. He had been invited to the house of the Countess of Huntingdon to hear Whitefield preach, and had been one of the first converts there. His own preaching had become popular and successful, not only at her ladyship’s, but on Garlick Hill, where, among others saved by his instrumentality, was Mrs. Kent, at the age of a hundred and four. Mr. Steward’s career was suddenly ended,—anevent which greatly affected Whitefield.[317] In the following letter to Charles Wesley, he refers to this and other matters:—
“London, March 3, 1753.
“My dear Friend,—I thank you and your brother most heartily for the loan of the chapel. Blessed be God! the work goes on well. On Thursday morning” (March 1st), “the first brick of our new Tabernacle was laid with awful solemnity. I preached from Exodus xx. 24: ‘In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.’ Afterwards, we sung, and prayed for God’s blessing in all places, where His glorious name is recorded. The wall is now about a yard high. The building is to be eighty feet square. It is upon the old spot. We have purchased the house; and, if we finish what we have begun, we shall be rent-free for forty-six years. We have £1100 in hand. This, I think, is the best way to build.
“Mr. Steward’s death so affected me, that, when I met the workmen that night to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of building tabernacles. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued. Eighteen years have I been waiting for the coming of the Son of God; but I find we are immortal till our work is done. Oh that we may never live to be ministered unto, but to minister. Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was with him, till a few minutes before he slept in Jesus.