“Thus, may it please your Excellency, concluded my correspondence with his Grace; and, I humbly hope, the Province of Georgia will, in the end, be no loser by this negotiation. For, I now purpose to superadd a public academy to the Orphan House, as the College of Philadelphia[576] as constituted a public academy, as well as charitable school, for some time before its present college charter was granted in 1755.”
Whitefield then suggests that the Orphan House estate, which, for three years, had been neglected, should be vigorously improved, so as to make permanent provision for the maintenance of indigent orphans, and to convert the Orphan House itself into a suitable academy for opulent students. He proposes to send from England proper masters to “prepare for academical honours the many youths, in Georgia and the adjacent provinces, waiting for admission.” He expresses his willingness to settle the whole estate upon trustees, with the proviso, that no opportunity should be neglected “of making fresh application for a college charter, upon a broad bottom, whenever those in power might think it for the glory of God, and the interest of their king and country, to grant the same.” And he concludes by hoping, that, in this way, his “beloved Bethesda will not only be continued as a house of mercy for poor orphans, but will be confirmed as a seat and nursery of sound learning and religious education, to the latest posterity.”
On Whitefield’s return to London, in the month of June,1767, he continued his correspondence with Rowland Hill. The latter had left Cambridge, for the long vacation, and had returned to Hawkstone, the residence of his father. Here he was warmly welcomed by Richard, his elder brother, who, like himself, had lately become a village preacher, and a visitor of prisons; but his parents were profoundly grieved at his religious irregularities; and his walks, amid the beautiful scenery of his father’s grounds, were often sorrowful. To cheer him and his brother, Whitefield wrote as follows:—
“London, July 14, 1767.
“Blessed be God, for what he has done for your dear brother! A preaching, prison-preaching, field-preaching esquire strikes more than all black gowns and lawn sleeves in the world. If I am not mistaken, God will let the world, and His own children too, know that He will not be prescribed to, in respect to men, or garbs, or places, much less will He be confined to any order, or set of men under heaven. I wish you both much, very much, prosperity. You will have it. This is the way: walk in it. Both the Tabernacle and the chapel pulpits shall be open to a captain or an esquire sent of God. The good news from Oxford is encouraging.[577] Say what they will, preaching should be one part of the education of a student in divinity. Usus promptos facit. Write often and let me know how you go on. What says your friend Mr. Powys. God bless him, and help him to go forwards!”[578]
A week later, Whitefield wrote again:—
“London, July 21, 1767. I hope, ere this comes to hand, you will have taken your second degree. A good degree indeed! To be a preacher,—a young preacher,—a mobbed, perhaps, a stoned preacher,—O what an honour! How many prayers will you get, when I read your letter at the Tabernacle! And the prayers of so many dear children of God will do you no hurt. When we are fighting with Amalek below, it is good to have a Joshua praying for us above. Jesus is our Joshua—Jesus is our intercessor. He liveth, He ever liveth to make intercession, especially for His young soldiers. Yonder, yonder He sits! Whilst praying, He reaches out a crown. At this distance, you may see written in capital letters, ‘Vincenti dabo.’ All a gift—a free gift, though purchased by His precious blood. Tell churchmen, tell meetingers, tell the wounded, tell all of this. Tell them when you are young; you may not live to be old. Tell them whilst you are an undergraduate; you may be dead, buried, glorified, before you take a college degree. Tell those who would have you spareyourself, that time is short, that eternity is endless, that the Judge is before the door. God bless you! God bless you! Yours in Jesus,
“George Whitefield.”
Before proceeding with Whitefield’s history, extracts from three other letters, to Rowland Hill, may be welcome:—
“London, August 6, 1767. The enclosed made me pity, smile, and rejoice: pity the writer’s ignorance, smile at his worn-out sarcasms, and rejoice that you are called to be a living martyr for our common Lord. Fear not; only go forward. You know Jesus, and, by preaching, will know more. If you write, let him know that Jesus has revealed Himself not only to you by His word, but in you by His spirit; that you look upon those whom he is pleased to term fanatics, as the excellent of the earth; and that you choose rather to suffer reproach with them, than to enjoy all the pleasures of sense, and all the preferments in the world.”