“You have lately been enabled joyfully to bear the spoiling of your goods. Think it not strange, if you should hereafter be called to resist unto blood. Fear not the faces of men, neither be afraid of their revilings. The more you are afflicted, the more you shall multiply and grow. Persecution is your privilege; it is a badge of your discipleship; it is every Christian’s lot, in some degree or other. Only be careful to give no just cause of offence. Be studious to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit in your lives. Call no man master, but Christ. Follow others only as they are followers of Him. Be fond of no name but that of Christian. Beware of making parties, and of calling down fire from heaven to consume your adversaries. Labour to shine in common life, by a conscientious discharge of all relative duties; and study to adorn the gospel of our Lord in all things. If you are good Christians, you will fear God, and, for His sake, honour the king. Be thankful for the many blessings you enjoy under the government of his present majesty, King George; and continue to pray to Him, by whom kings reign, and princes decree justice, to keep a popish pretender from ever sitting on the English throne.”
We now return to Whitefield’s itinerancy. There is but little evidence to shew how he spent the interval between March 15th and June 26th. John Cennick, in his diary, says: “On the 3rd of April, at my special desire, the first association of our ministers and preachers, which had been kept in Wilts, took place in my house at Tytherton. There were present the following preachers: Mr. Whitefield, Howell Harris, John Cennick, Joseph Humphreys, and Thomas Adams; and the following exhorters:William Humphreys, Isaac Cottle, Thomas Lewis, and Thomas Beswick.”[97]
Part of the fifteen weeks was spent in London, part in Bristol, and part in Wilts. He was also awaiting an opportunity to embark for Georgia; and, with Mr. Smith, a merchant, actually took a passage in a ship about to sail from Portsmouth. At the last moment, however, the captain refused to take him; upon which he set out for Plymouth,preaching at Wellington, Exeter, Bideford, and Kingsbridge on the way.[98] At Plymouth, he was made the subject of abrutal attack, which might have ended seriously. Hence the following letters:—
“Plymouth, June 26, 1744.
“My dear Friend,—You see by this where I am. Doubtless, you will wonder at the quick transition from Portsmouth to Plymouth. When I wrote last, I intended going to the former; but, just before I took leave of the dear Tabernacle people, a message was sent to me, that the captain, in whose ship I was to sail from thence, would not take me, for fear of my spoiling his sailors. Upon this, hearing of a ship that was going under convoy from Plymouth, I hastened hither, and have taken a passage in the Wilmington, Captain Dalby, bound to Piscataway, in New England.
“My first reception here was a little unpromising. A report being spread that I was come, a great number of people assembled upon the Hoe (a large green for walks and diversions), and somebody brought out a bear and a drum; but I did not come till the following evening, when, under pretence of a hue-and-cry, several broke into the room where I lodged at the inn, and disturbed me very much.
“I then betook myself to private lodgings, and being gone to rest, after preaching to a large congregation, and visiting the French prisoners, the good woman of the house came and told me, that a well-dressed gentleman desired to speak with me. Imagining that he was some Nicodemite, I desired he might be brought up. He came and sat down by my bedside, told me he was a lieutenant of a man of war, congratulated me on the success of my ministry, and expressed himself much concerned for being detained from hearing me. He then asked me if I knew him? I answered, No. He replied, his name was Cadogan. I rejoined, that I had seen one Mr. Cadogan, who was formerly an officer in Georgia, about a fortnight ago, at Bristol. Upon this, he immediately rose up, uttering the most abusive language, calling me dog, rogue, villain, etc., and beat me most unmercifully with his gold-headed cane. As you know, I have not much natural courage; and, being apprehensive that he intended to shoot or stab me, I underwent all the fears of a sudden violent death. My hostess and her daughter, hearing me cry ‘Murder,’ rushed into the room, and seized him by the collar; but he immediately disengaged himself from them, and repeated his blows upon me. The cry of murder was repeated, and he made towards the chamber door, from whence the good woman pushed him downstairs. A second man now cried out, ‘Take courage, I am ready to help you;’ and, accordingly, whilst the other was escaping, he rushed upstairs, and finding one of the women coming down, took her by the heels, and threw her upon the floor, by which her back was almost broken. By this time the neighbourhood was alarmed; but, being unwilling to add to the commotion, I desired the doors might be shut, and so betook myself to rest.”
This strange adventure is explained in another letter, written to the same friend, a few days afterwards.
“Plymouth, July 4, 1744.
“Since my last, I have had some information about the late odd adventure. It seems that four gentlemen came to the house of one of my particular friends, and desired to know where I lodged, that they might pay their respects to me. My friend directed them; and, soon afterwards, I received a letter, informing me that the writer of it was a nephew of Mr. S——, an eminent attorney at New York; that he had had the pleasure of supping with me at his uncle’s house; and that he desired my company to sup with him and a few more friends at a tavern. I sent him word that it was not customary for me to sup out at taverns, but I should be glad of his company, out of respect to his uncle, to eat a morsel with him at my lodgings. He came; we supped. I observed that he frequently looked around him, and seemed very absent; but, having no suspicion, I continued in conversation with him and my other friends till we parted. I now find that this man was to have been the assassin; and that, being interrogated by his companions as to what he had done, he answered, that being used so civilly, he had not the heart to touch me.