At Whitsuntide, Whitefield visited Tunbridge Wells, Lewes, and Brighton. At the first of these places, Lady Huntingdon had procured a permanent residence, on Mount Ephraim; and Whitefield preached twice in the open air. “Very many,” says her ladyship, “were cut to the heart. Sinners trembled exceedingly before the Lord, and a universal impression seemed to abide upon the multitude. Truly God was in the midst of us to wound and to heal.”[608]

The following letter, addressed to Whitefield by Rowland Hill, refers to this visit to Tunbridge Wells, but is chiefly valuable as containing a sketch of the proceedings of the Methodist students at Cambridge, and as exhibiting some of the peculiarities of young Rowland’s character:—

“Cambridge, May 12, 1768.

Rev. and very dear Sir,—I am glad to hear we are to expect a smaller edition of your valuable ‘Letter.’[609] I doubt not but it will be of further utility. It has been read much in this place. That and the Shaver[610] have been sent for to all the coffee-houses in this University; so that, no doubt, all our heads have seen all that has been written. But if you think it any advantage to send each of our heads a separate copy, I will contrive my best to get it done.

“God be praised for what is doing by the endeavours of dear Lady Huntingdon at Tunbridge Wells! How wonderfully is she carried from one place of dissipation to another! How glorious is her continued progress!

“Blessed be God! we are not without being steeped more than ever in shame in this place; or, as the old proverb goes, we have eaten shame and drank after it, and I trust it digests well. Though we always endeavour to keep clear of a mob, in letting no more know than our different houses will hold, yet, in spite of all that can be done, more or less of thegown constantly attend. The Lord, through much grace, generally keeping me clear of the fear of man, gives me some little strength to tell you all about it; and, as I find burs generally stick faster to people’s clothes than roses, I am sometimes apt to deal in that rough ware. They have hitherto always stood, like poor brow-beaten things, with much attention till we have done, when they generally get together to compare notes, which they afterwards retail among others of the University, drest up in a droll fashion, well embellished, with the addition of many ludicrous lies.

“This makes all, as I pass the streets, stop to wonder at me, as a strange oddity; but, as I am more than ever convinced that the only way God ever will carry on His work, is by the manifestation of His own almighty power, without any of our assisting influence or trimming, I find the only way to meet with a blessing is to be honest and open in telling them the simple truth, and leaving God to bless it. This, I trust, has, in some measure, been the case at Cambridge. Four of the many gownsmen, that have been at times my hearers of late, have never missed an opportunity of attending, and have been at much pains to enquire the time and place of our meeting. After hearing, they wish me a good eve; and, when absent, speak respectfully of the word. Many others, too, having been convinced in their judgments, approve of its being right; while others, filled with the hottest madness, dress me up as a fool, and cudgel me as a knave.

“The other night, the mob of the gown, which raised a second of the town, ran so high at the house where we had a meeting, that the constable, who is a friend, was forced to attend, that no riot might ensue; but, as I thought to be attended with constables was yet too high an honour for such a poor beginner, I hope it was nothing more than what Christian prudence would advise, to be more private the next time, and be contented with a house full, attended only with a few gownsmen by way of bringing up the rear.

“As for our Doctors, ’tis remarkable how very patiently they bear with my conduct, as they now know that as I have but a little while to stay, an expulsion from Cambridge would hardly answer. They seem now to have come to the following compromise—that I am to continue to be possessor of my professorship, and to be still bishop over all their parishes, provided I will be contented with houses or barns, and leave them alone with quiet possession of their streets, fields, and churches, and, by and by, they will be glad to sign my testimonium, in order to get rid of me. Thus, in the end, I hope, through grace, I shall be enabled to make good what I promised to one, who asked me, when we enthusiasts intended to stop. My answer was, ‘Not at all, till such time as we have carried all before us.’

“I am in the greatest hope that the Lord will soon give dear —— a heart to help me. He is a steady, warm, lively Christian, and grows prodigiously, and bids by far the fairest for the predicted phœnix of any that are in this place.