“London, November 17, 1756. At Tottenham Court chapel, we have had some glorious earnests of future blessings. My constant work now is preaching about fifteen times a week. This, with a weak appetite, want of rest, and much care lying upon my mind, enfeebles me. But the joy of the Lord is my strength; and my greatest grief is, that I can do no more for Him, who has done and suffered so much for me.”
The Rev. Henry Venn was now one of the most active clergymen of the Church of England. Besides being curate of Clapham, he held three lectureships in the city. His regular duties consisted of a full service at Clapham on the Sunday morning; a sermon, in the afternoon, at St. Alban’s, Wood Street; and another, in the evening, at St. Swithin’s, London-stone. On Tuesday morning, a sermon at St. Swithin’s; on Wednesday morning, at seven o’clock, at St. Antholin’s; and, on Thursday evening, at Clapham.[414] Whitefield had become acquainted with him, and wrote to Hervey, at Weston-Favel, as follows:—
“London, December 9, 1756. I hope that my dear friend prospers both in soul and body. Conviction and conversion work goes on here. Lord, keep us from tares! All is well at Clapham. I have expounded there twice. God has met with us in our new building.”
To the Rev. Aaron Burr, the President of New Jersey College, for whom he had done his best to obtain a D.D. degree from the Edinburgh University, Whitefield wrote:—
“London, December 9, 1756. Night and day, our hands are lifted up for dear America; but, I fear, we are to be brought into far greater extremity, both at home and abroad, ere deliverance comes. I am sorry you have not your degree. It is ready, if testimonials were sent from those who know you. This not being done, it looks as though the character given you on this side the water was not justly founded. I wish you would write oftener. How glad would I be to see America, but my way is hedged up. The awakening both in town and country continues. More ministers are coming out to preach the gospel. I am strengthened to preach fourteen times a week, and I trust it is not in vain.”
“London, December 15, 1756. Last Sunday, in the new chapel, there was a wonderful stirring among the dry bones. Some great people came, and begged they might have a constant seat: an earnest this, I believe, of more good things to come.”
“London, December 30, 1756. God is doing wonders in the new chapel. Hundreds went away last Sunday morning, who could not come in. On Christmas Day, and last Tuesday night (the first time of burning candles), the power of the Lord was present, both to wound and to heal. A neighbouring doctor has baptized the place, calling it ‘Whitefield’s Soul-Trap.’ I pray that it may be a soul-trap indeed, to many wandering sinners. Abundance of people round about, I hear, are much struck. O for humility! O for gratitude! O for faith! Wherefore should I doubt? Surely Jesus will carry me through, and help me to pay the workmen.”
In such a spirit, Whitefield ended another year of his eventful life. He was now attracting to his meeting-house some of the “great people” of the western parts of the metropolis; and, yet, his preaching was as faithful as ever. Let the following serve as a specimen:—
“Woe unto you, who are at ease in Zion, and, instead of staying to be tempted by the devil, by idleness, self-indulgence, and making continual provision for the flesh even tempt the devil to tempt you! Woe unto you, who, not content with sinning yourselves, turn factors for hell, and make a trade of tempting others to sin! Woe unto you, who either deny Divine revelation, or never use it, but to serve a bad turn! Woe unto you, who sell your consciences, and pawn your souls, for a little worldly wealth or honour! Woe unto you, who climb up to high places, in Church or State, by corruption, bribery, extortion, cringing, flattery, or bowing down to, and soothing the vices of those by whom you expect to rise! Woe unto you! for, whether you will own the relation or not, you are of your father the devil; for the works of your father you do. I tremble for you. How can you escape the damnation of hell?”[415]
Such preaching was needed in the days of Whitefield, and it is equally needed now. For lack of it, thousands, even in churches and chapels, are dreaming elysian dreams, while in the utmost danger of perishing.