“This was his work, in London, at one period of his life. After administering the Lord’s supper to several hundred communicants at half-past six o’clock in the morning, he, in the forenoon, read the Liturgy, and preached full an hour. In the afternoon, he again read prayers and preached. At half-past five, he preached again, and, afterwards, addressed a large Society. At the Society meeting, widows, married people, young men, and spinsters were placed separately in the area of the Tabernacle. Hundreds used to stay, and receive from him, in a colloquial style, various exhortations, comprised in short sentences, and suitable to their various stations.
“Perhaps he never preached greater sermons than at six in the morning; for at that hour he did preach, winter and summer, on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. At these times, his congregations were of the select description. Young men received admonitions similar to what were given in the Society meetings. ‘Beware of being golden apprentices, silver journeymen, and copper masters,’ was one of the cautions I remember being given. His style was now colloquial, with little use of motion; pertinent expositions, with suitable remarks; and all comprehended within the hour.
“Christian experience principally was the subject of his Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday evening lectures; when, frequently having funeral sermons to preach, the character and experience of the dead helped to elucidate the subject.
“Mr. Whitefield adopted the custom of the inhabitants of New England, in their best days, of beginning the Sabbath at six o’clock on Saturday evenings. The custom could not be observed by many, but it was convenient to a few. Now ministers of every description found a peculiar pleasure in relaxing their minds from the fatigues of study. It was also an opportunity peculiarly suited to apprentices and journeymen in some businesses, which allowed of their leaving work sooner than on other days, and of availing themselves of, at least, the sermon.
“The peculiar talents he possessed can be but faintly guessed from his sermons in print. The eighteen, taken in shorthand, and faithfully transcribed by Mr. Gurney, have been supposed to do discredit to his memory, and, therefore, they were suppressed; but much of his genuine preachingmay be collected from them. They were far from being the best specimens that might have been produced. He preached many of them when, in fact, he was almost incapable of preaching at all. His constitution, long before they were taken, had received its shock, and all of them, except the two last, were the productions of a Wednesday evening, when, by the business of the day, he was fatigued and worn out. He was then like an ascending Elijah, and many were eager to catch his dropping mantle. In the sermons referred to, there are many jewels, though not connected in proper order. Whatever invidious remarks may be made upon his written discourses, they cannot invalidate his preaching. Mr. Toplady called him the prince of preachers, and with good reason, for none in our day preached with the like effect.”
So much in reference to Whitefield as a preacher, to which may be added another fact stated by Cornelius Winter, namely, that, excepting Andrew Kinsman, most of Whitefield’s substitutes at the Tabernacle and at Tottenham Court chapel were very inferior preachers to himself, and that, in consequence, the congregations, during his absence, were greatly diminished. Notwithstanding this, however, “conversions were very frequent.”[560]
Winter’s portraiture of Whitefield will not be perfect without the addition of what he says respecting the renowned preacher’s private character and habits. He continues:—
“Mr. Whitefield was accessible but to few. He was cautious in admitting people to him. He would never be surprised into a conversation. You could not knock at his door and be allowed to enter at any time. ‘Who is it?’ ‘What is his business?’ and such-like enquiries usually preceded admission; and, if admission were granted, it was thus, ‘Come to-morrow morning at six o’clock, perhaps five, or immediately after preaching. If later, I cannot see you.’
“A person consulting him upon going into the ministry, might expect to be treated with severity, if not well recommended, or if he had not something about him particularly engaging. One man, on saying, in answer to his enquiry, that he was a tailor, was dismissed with, ‘Go to rag-fair, and buy old clothes.’ Another, who was admitted to preach in the vestry one winter’s morning at six o’clock, took for his text, ‘These that have turned the world upside down have come hither also.’ ‘That man shall come here no more,’ said Mr. Whitefield. ‘If God had called him to preach, he would have furnished him with a proper text.’ A letter well written, as to style, orthography, and decency, would prepossess him much in favour of a person.
“He used too much severity to young people, and required too much from them. He connected circumstances too humiliating with publicservices, in a young man with whom he could take liberty; urging that it was necessary as a curb to the vanity of human nature, and referred to the young Roman orators, who, after being exalted by applauses, were sent upon the most trifling errands. His maxim was, if you love me, you will serve me disinterestedly; hence he settled no certain income, or a very slender one, upon his dependants, many of whom were sycophants, and, while they professed to serve him, underhandedly served themselves. Through this defect, his charity in Georgia was materially injured, owing to the wrong conduct of some who insinuated themselves into his favour by humouring his weakness, and letting him act and speak without contradiction. He was impatient of contradiction, but this is a fault to be charged upon almost all great people.