“Edinburgh, June 15, 1768.
(To Mr. Keen) “You would be delighted to see our Orphan House Park assemblies; as large and attentive as ever. Twenty-seven-year-old friends and spiritual children remember the days of old. They are seeking after their first love, and there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones. I cannot tell you when I shall move. Probably within a fortnight.”
“Edinburgh, July 2, 1768.
(To Mr. Andrew Kinsman) “My dear Timothy, I am much obliged to you for your staying in London, till I return from Scotland. My journey hither was certainly of God. Could I preach ten times a day, thousands and thousands would attend. I have been confined for a few days, but, on Monday or Tuesday next, hope to mount my throne again. O to die there! Too great, too great an honour to be expected! I thank my wife for her kind letter just received. I am here only in danger of being hugged to death. Friends of all ranks seem heartier and more friendly than ever. All is of Grace! Grace! I go on in my old way, without turning to the right hand or to the left. Providence says every day, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’ Tender love to all, particularly to my dear wife. Next post she may expect to hear from me.”
“Edinburgh, July 9, 1768.
(To Mr. Keen) “God be praised that all is so well in London. Everything goes on better and better here; but I am so worn down by preaching abroad, and by talking at home almost all the day long, that I have determined to set off for London next Tuesday. As you do not mention my wife, I suppose she is out of town.”
Exactly a month after this, Whitefield’s wife was dead. On his return to London, she was attacked with fever, and died on August 9. Five days afterwards, he preached her funeral sermon;[612] and, noticing her fortitude, remarked,—“Do you remember my preaching in those fields by the old stump of a tree? The multitude was great, and many were disposed to be riotous. At first, I addressed them firmly; but when a desperate gang drew near, with the most ferocious and horrid imprecations and menaces, my courage began to fail. My wife was then standing behind me, as I stood on the table. I think I hear her now. She pulled my gown, and, looking up, said, ‘George, play the man foryour God.’ My confidence returned. I spoke to the multitude with boldness and affection. They became still, and many were deeply affected.”[613] A monument to the memory of Whitefield’s wife was put up in Tottenham Court Road chapel, with the following inscription:[614]—
“To the memory of Mrs. Whitefield, who, after thirty years’ strong and frequent manifestations of her Redeemer’s love, mixed with strong and frequent strugglings against the buffetings of Satan, and many sicknesses and indwellings of sin, was joyfully released, August 9, 1769.”[615]
Whitefield submitted to his bereavement with Christian resignation. Two days after he preached his wife’s funeral sermon, he wrote, in a letter to Captain Joss:—“Let us work whilst it is day. The late unexpected breach is a fresh proof that the night soon cometh, when no man can work. Pray, where may I find that grand promise made to Abraham after Sarah’s death? May it be fulfilled in you, whilst your Sarah is yet alive! Sweet bereavements, when God Himself fills up the chasm! Through mercy I find it so. Adieu.”
On Wednesday, August 24, Whitefield opened the College of the Countess of Huntingdon at Trevecca, by preaching from the words: “In all places where I record My name, I will come unto thee, and bless thee.” The next day, he gave an exhortation to the students, from: “He shall be great in the sight of the Lord.” And, on Sunday, August 28, preached in the court before the College, to a congregation of thousands, from: “Other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”[616]