COMMENCEMENT OF OUTDOOR PREACHING. (continued 3)

In all respects, this was an unwise publication. Prefixed to it is a somewhat egotistic and ostentatious address, "To all the true members of Christ's holy Church," in which Whitefield says:—

"As the whole of this great nation seems now more than ever in danger of being hurried into one or other of these equally pernicious extremes—irreligion or fanaticism—I thought myself more than ordinarily obliged to rouse your, perhaps, drowsy vigilance, by warning you of the nearness of your peril. Take the friendly caution I give you in good part, and endeavour to profit by it. Be mindless of me, and attend wholly to the saving truths I here deliver to you from the mouth of God Himself. Of this only be persuaded, that they are uttered by one who has your eternal salvation as much at heart as his own."

The chief faults, however, of this sermonic pamphlet are its pious, but personal abuse of Dr. Trapp. The minister of the four churches of St. Leonard's, St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, Christ Church, and Harlington, merited rebuke; but Whitefield's epithets and strictures were of greater service to Dr. Trapp than to the man who wrote them. With all his faults, Dr. Trapp was a distinguished man. At different periods of his life, he had been Fellow of Wadham College, Oxford; in the same college he had been appointed to the first Birkhead professorship of poetry; he had filled the office of chaplain to Sir Constantine Phipps, Lord Chancellor of Ireland; and he had published several poetical and other works, of one of which the University of Oxford had marked their approval, by conferring upon him the degree of D.D. Further, he was now in his sixtieth year, and therefore much more than twice the age of Whitefield. His attack on young Whitefield had been fierce, almost savage; Whitefield's retaliatory attack was what? The reader must judge for himself. Whitefield writes:—

"This earthly-minded minister of a new gospel has taken a text which seems to favour his naughty purpose of weaning the well-disposed little ones of Christ from that perfect purity of heart and spirit which is necessary to all such as mean to live in our Lord Jesus. O Lord, what shall become of the flock when their shepherds betray them into the hands of the ravenous wolf! when a minister of Thy word perverts it to overthrow Thy kingdom, and to destroy Scripture with Scripture! Solomon, in the person of a desponding, ignorant, indolent liver, says to the man of righteousness: 'Be not righteous over-much, neither make thyself over-wise. Why shouldest thou destroy thyself?' But must my poor, angry, over-sighted brother Trapp, therefore, personate a character so unbecoming his function, merely to overthrow the express injunction of the Lord to us, which obliges us never to give over pursuing and thirsting after the perfect righteousness of Christ till we rest in Him? Father, forgive him, for he knows not what he says! Oh, what advantage might not Satan gain over the elect, if the false construction put upon this text by that unseeing teacher should prevail! Yet though he blushes not to assist Satan to bruise our heel, I shall endeavour to bruise the heads of both, by shewing the genuine sense of the text in question."

Having given what he conceives to be "the genuine sense," Whitefield proceeds:—

"This is the true, genuine sense of the text, and every other sense put upon it is false and groundless, and wrested rather to pervert than to explain the truth. O Christian simplicity, whither art thou fled? Why will not the clergy speak the truth? And why must this false prophet suffer thy people to believe a lie, because they have held the truth in unrighteousness? Raise up, I beseech Thee, O Lord, some true pastors, who may acquaint them with the nature and necessity of perfect righteousness, and lead them to that love of Christian perfection which the angry-minded, pleasure-taking Dr. Trapp labours to divert them from, by teaching that 'all Christians must have to do with some vanities.' Lord, open his eyes, and touch his heart, and convert him, and all those erring ministers who 'have seen vain and foolish things for Thy people, and have not discovered their iniquity to turn away their captivity.' For 'they have erred through wine, and through strong drink are out of the way; the priest and the prophet have erred through strong drink, they are swallowed up of wine, they are out of the way through strong drink, they err in vision, they stumble in judgment.'"

"It is not surprising to see a man of this cast of mind making a vain ostentation of his little superficial acquaintance with the ancient Greeks and Romans. What is this but acting conformably to his principle, that all Christians must have to do with some vanities? And shall we wonder to hear such an one prefer their writings, to those of an apostle; or be astonished to see him wound the apostle with raillery for wishing to 'know nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified'? No; with him it is consistency to laugh and reprove you out of the perfection of righteousness, which, however he may play with terms, is with him the same as being righteous over-much. What will not men advance who are drunk with passion, and intoxicated with self-love! To such lengths does the love of the world hurry these self-fond, merry-making worldlings. What wonder is it that lovers and strugglers after the perfect righteousness of Christ should be charged with enthusiasm, with folly, with fanaticism and madness? Can you be amazed at it, in an age 'when all manner of vice abounds to a degree almost unheard of'? when 'the land is full of adulterers,' and when, 'because of swearing, the land mourneth'? Oh, how is the faithful city become a harlot! Oh, how 'my heart within me is broken!' Because of the clergy, 'all my bones shake! I am like a drunken man, and like a man whom wine hath overcome; because of the Lord, and because of the words of His holiness,' perverted by this deluded clergyman. When the clergy become teachers of worldly maxims, what can be expected from the laity?"

"Such is the language which the indolent, earthly-minded, pleasure-taking clergy of the Church of England use to strengthen the hands of evil-doers. Such is the doctrine of the letter-learned divine, who has dipped his pen in gall to decry perfect righteousness. But suffer not yourselves to be deluded by him. As I have already shewn you, he is grossly (Lord, grant he was not maliciously!) mistaken in his manner of explaining this text. He acts the character of a vain libertine, full of self-love and earthly desires. May I not—yea, must I not—warn you, that this man is an enemy to perfect righteousness in men through Christ Jesus, and therefore no friend to Christ? Oh that my head were an ocean, and my eyes fountains of tears, to weep night and day for this poor creature, this hoodwinked member of the clergy!"

This is quite enough. It is a painful task to adduce such extracts; but it would not be honest to withhold them. Whitefield's impetuous character, and the immense number and extreme violence of the publications against him and against the Methodists in general, cannot be understood without them. Whitefield's "Answer to Dr. Trapp's Four Sermons" was unworthy of him. It was an outburst of petulant irritation, all the more offensive because arrayed in the garb of piety. It did no good either to Whitefield or the cause of Christ. It, and similar attacks, to be noticed shortly, brought upon him and his fellow-Methodists an enormous amount of personal abuse. No doubt, many of the clergy of the Church of England were "indolent, earthly-minded, and pleasure-taking;" but this was not the way to mend them. Whitefield's mission was not to rail against the clergy, but to convert sinners. The only excuses that can be made for him are, that he was young; that he was naturally impetuous and imprudent; that he had been greatly irritated; and that, perhaps, he was somewhat thrown off his balance by the unequalled popularity to which he had attained.

Having taken a formal leave of his congregations on Kennington Common, Whitefield, on June 4, proceeded to Blackheath. He writes: There was nearly as large a congregation as there was at Kennington yesterday. My discourse was nearly two hours long, and the people were so melted down, and wept so loud, that they almost drowned my voice. I could not but cry out, 'Come, ye Pharisees, come and see the Lord Jesus getting Himself the victory.'"

Next morning, Whitefield preached on Bexley Common, "to about three hundred people; and, in the evening, near Woolwich, to several thousands;" and spent the night with Mr. Delamotte, of Blendon.

On June 6, he did what he had not been allowed to do for some time past,—read prayers, and preached in two churches; in the morning, at Bexley, by invitation of the vicar, the Rev. Henry Piers; and in the evening, in a church adjoining Gravesend. "I have no objection," he writes, "against the excellent Liturgy of our Church, but highly approve of it, if ministers would lend me their churches to use it in. If not, let them blame themselves, that I pray and preach in the fields."

During these three days spent at Blackheath, Blendon, Bexley, and Gravesend, Whitefield was accompanied by Charles Wesley, who says:—

"Monday, June 4. I stood by G. Whitefield while he preached on the mount in Blackheath. The cries of the wounded were heard on every side. What has Satan gained by turning him out of the churches?

"Tuesday, June 5. I was with him at Blendon. Bowers and Bray" (two prominent Moravians) "followed us thither, drunk with the spirit of delusion. George honestly said, 'They were two grand enthusiasts.'

"Wednesday, June 6. Above sixty of the poor people had passed the night in Mr. Delamotte's barn, singing and rejoicing. I sang and prayed with them before the door. George's exhortations left them all in tears."

These were strange scenes, but want of space forbids comment.

Charles Wesley returned to London, and had a tussle with the Moravians. Two men, John Shaw and William Fish, were insolently zealous. "Shaw pleaded for his spirit of prophecy;" and accused Charles "with love of preeminence," and "with making proselytes twofold more children of the devil than before." Fish said Charles was delivered over unto Satan; and both he and Shaw declared themselves no longer members of the Church of England. Charles was also greatly annoyed by a mad prophetess, who had sprung up among the brethren. Whitefield heard of all this, and wrote as follows to the London Moravians:—

"Blendon, June 12, 1739.

"My dear Brethren in Christ,—I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy. I find more and more that Satan has desired to have some of you in particular, that he may sift you as wheat, and, if possible, divide and separate you all. I hear there is a woman among you, who pretends to the spirit of prophecy; and, what is more unaccountable, I hear that Brother B—— (Bray?) seems to approve of her. You have great need, therefore, to try the spirits, whether they be of God. The devil is beginning to mimic God's work, and is now transforming himself into an angel of light, in order more effectually to gain his point. I cannot but think that Brother —— is at present under a spirit of delusion. He, as well as Brother ——, I believe, imagines there will be a power given to work miracles, and that now Christ is coming to reign a thousand years upon the earth. But what need is there of miracles, such as healing sick bodies, when we see greater miracles every day done by the power of God's Word? Why should we tempt God in requiring further signs? As for our Lord's coming at this time to reign upon the earth, I answer, 'It is not for us to know the times and seasons, which the Father hath put in His own power.' That a great work is begun is evident; that it will be carried on, I doubt not; but how it will end, I know not, neither do I desire to know. It is sufficient for me to do the work of the day in its day, and to rest satisfied in this, that all end in God's glory.

"My dear brethren, be not offended at this plainness of speech. I would all the Lord's servants were prophets; but then, I would not have people think themselves prophets of the Lord, when they are only enthusiasts. If Mr. —— is actuated by a good spirit, why is he not patient of reproof? Why does he fly into a passion when contradicted? Why does he pretend to be infallible, and that God always speaks in him?

"Pure unfeigned love causes me to use this freedom. Many of you God has worked upon by my ministry, and, therefore, I would not have you ignorant of Satan's devices. O beware of him at this time. Do not conceive prejudices against each other. Do not dispute, but love. Purge out the old leaven from amongst you. Build up each other in your most holy faith. My dear brethren, I am your common servant in our dear Lord Jesus,

"George Whitefield."

This is not the place to detail, at greater length, the wranglings between the Moravians and the Methodists; but, after this, with the exception of attending a Moravian love-feast on June 25, and a Society meeting on August 1, Whitefield seems to have had no further connection with the Brethren.

On June 7, Whitefield preached again in the church near Gravesend, and in Mr. Piers's church at Bexley; and, on the two following days, at Bexley, Charlton, and Dulwich. He was invited to Charlton by the Earl and Countess of Egmont, who entertained him "with the utmost civility."

On June 10, Whitsunday, he writes:—

"Preached with more power than ever, and assisted in administering the sacrament to about two hundred communicants in Bexley Church.[223] Dined, gave thanks, and sang hymns at Mr. Delamotte's. Preached with great power, in the evening, on Blackheath, to above twenty thousand people, and collected £16 7s. for the orphans. After sermon, I went to the Green Man, near the place where I preached, and continued till midnight instant in prayer, praise, thanksgiving, and Christian communion. I believe there were fifty or sixty of us in all; and numbers stood by as spectators. Many of them watched unto prayer and praise all night."

This was a unique scene, in a public house, on the night of Whitsunday; but Whitefield writes:—

"I think it every Christian's duty to be particularly careful to glorify God in places where He is most dishonoured. Some can sing the songs of the drunkard in public houses; others can spend whole nights in chambering and wantonness; why should Christians be ashamed to sing songs of the Lamb, and spend nights in devotion?"

The sermon preached at Bexley was founded upon John vii. 37-39, and soon after was published with the following title: "The Indwelling of the Spirit, the Common Privilege of all Believers. A Sermon preached at the Parish Church of Bexley, in Kent, on Whitsunday, 1739. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 26 pp.) Two or three extracts from it will help to convey an idea of the style of Whitefield's preaching at this important period of his history, and of his apparent severity towards the clergy of the Established Church.

Having laid down the doctrine, that the indwelling of the "Holy Spirit is the common privilege and portion of believers in all ages," he proceeds:—

"I am astonished that any who call themselves members, much more, that many who are preachers of the Church of England, should dare so much as open their lips against this. And yet, with grief I speak it, persons of the Established Church seem to be more generally ignorant of it than any Dissenters whatsoever. But, good God! my dear brethren, what have you been doing? How often have your hearts given your lips the lie! How often have you offered God the sacrifice of fools, and had your prayers turned into sin, if you approve of, and use our excellent Church Liturgy, and yet deny the Holy Spirit to be the portion of all believers! Oh that I had no reason to speak it! but many, who use our forms, talk and preach against the necessity of receiving the Holy Ghost now, as well as formerly; and not only so, but cry out against those who do insist upon it, as madmen, enthusiasts, schismatics, and underminers of the Established Constitution.

"But you are the schismatics, you are the bane of the Church of England, who are always crying out, 'the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord;' and yet starve the people out of our communion, by feeding them only with the dry husks of dead morality. We subscribe to our Articles, and make them serve for a key to get into Church preferment, and then preach contrary to these very Articles to which we have subscribed. Far be it from me to charge all the clergy with this hateful hypocrisy. No, blessed be God! there are some left among us who dare maintain the doctrines of the Reformation, and preach the truth as it is in Jesus. But the generality of the clergy are fallen from our Articles, and do not speak agreeable to them, or to the form of sound words, delivered in the Scriptures. Woe be unto such blind leaders of the blind! How can you escape the damnation of hell? Not all your learning (falsely so called), nor all your preferments, can keep you from the just judgment of God. Yet a little while, and we all shall appear before the tribunal of Christ. There, there will I meet you. There Jesus Christ, that great shepherd and bishop of souls, shall determine who are the false prophets, who are the wolves in sheeps' clothing. But I can no more. It is an unpleasing task to censure any order of men, especially those who are in the ministry; nor would anything excuse it but necessity; that necessity which extorted from our Lord Himself so many woes against the scribes and Pharisees, the letter-learned rulers and teachers of the Jewish Church. And surely if I could bear to see people perish for lack of knowledge, and yet be silent towards those who keep from them the key of true knowledge, the very stones would cry out."

Whitefield brought upon himself great opprobrium by frequently designating the carnal and unconverted man "a motley mixture of brute and devil." One of the earliest uses of this strong expression occurs in the sermon from which the foregoing extract has been selected; and, as the following is a good specimen of the plain, powerful language the young preacher used, no excuse is needed for its insertion.

"O man! whosoever thou art that deniest the doctrine of original sin, if thy conscience be not scared as with a hot iron, tell me if thou dost not find thyself, by nature, to be a motley mixture of brute and devil? I know these terms will stir up the whole Pharisee in thy heart; but stop a little, and let us reason together. Dost thou not find that, by nature, thou art prone to pride? Otherwise, wherefore art thou now offended? Again, dost not thou find in thyself the seeds of malice, revenge, and all uncharitableness? And what are these but the very tempers of the devil? Again, do we not all, by nature, suffer ourselves to be led by our natural appetites, always looking downwards, never looking upwards to that God, in whom we live, move, and have our being? And what is this but the very nature of the beasts that perish? Out of thy own heart, therefore, will I oblige thee to confess, what an inspired apostle has long since told us, that the whole world, by nature, lies in the wicked one, that is, the devil; and that we are no better than those whom St. Jude calls brute beasts; for we have tempers, by nature, that prove to a demonstration that we are altogether earthly, sensual, and devilish."

One more extract must suffice. It presents Whitefield in another aspect,—pathetically and lovingly entreating sinners to be reconciled to God:—

"When Joseph was called out of the prison-house to Pharaoh's court, we are told, he stayed some time to prepare himself; but do you come with all your prison clothes about you. Come, poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked, as you are; and God will receive you, with open arms, as He did the prodigal. O let there be joy in heaven over some of you believing. Let me not go back to my Master, and say, Lord, they will not believe my report. Believe me, I am willing to go to prison or death for you; but I am not willing to go to heaven without you. The love of Christ constrains me to lift up my voice like a trumpet. My heart is now full. Out of the abundance of the love which I have for your precious and immortal souls, my mouth now speaketh. Why should I despair of any? No, I can despair of no one, when I consider Jesus Christ has had mercy on such a wretch as I am. However you may think of yourselves, I know that, by nature, I am but half a devil, and half a beast. The free grace of Christ prevented me. He saw me in my blood; He passed by; and said unto me, 'Live!' And the same grace, which was sufficient for me, is sufficient for you also. Come, then, my guilty brethren, come and believe on the Lord who brought you with His precious blood. Look up by faith, and see Him whom you have pierced. Behold Him bleeding, panting, dying. Behold Him with arms stretched out ready to receive you all."

Remembering that these are perfectly fair specimens of Whitefield's preaching, it is difficult to account for his enormous popularity. There is no genius, no poetry, no learning, no elaborate exposition, no profundity of thought, no embellishment of language, no anecdotes, no dramatic illustrations. There is much that is familiar, a little that is coarse, and more of egotism than is seemly in a young man of twenty-four. But, notwithstanding all this, Whitefield's popularity was unequalled.

The visit to Blackheath and its neighbourhood—in all respects a pleasant one—extended to nearly a fortnight, and Whitefield's principal home was the house of Mr. Delamotte at Blendon. Of course, he preached daily, sometimes in Mr. Piers's church at Bexley, occasionally at Dulwich, often at Blackheath, and two or three times to a few "gentlemen and ladies," in Mrs. S——'s house, at Lewisham. On one occasion, after he had preached in Bexley Church, he helped to administer the sacrament to nearly three hundred communicants, most of whom had followed him from London. Again and again, on Blackheath, his congregations consisted of twenty thousand people. Here, on Thursday, June 14, John and Charles Wesley came to see him. John Wesley had been preaching out of doors, at Bristol and at Kingswood; but, up to the present, he had avoided such an ecclesiastical irregularity in London. He writes:—

"June 14. I went with Mr. Whitefield to Blackheath, where were, I believe, twelve or fourteen thousand people. He a little surprised me, by desiring me to preach in his stead; which I did (though nature recoiled) on my favourite subject, 'Jesus Christ, who of God is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.' I was greatly moved with compassion for the rich that were there, to whom I made a particular application. Some of them seemed to attend, while others drove away their coaches from so uncouth a preacher."

Whitefield was delighted that Wesley had dared to copy his example, not only in Bristol, but in London. "I went to bed," says he, "rejoicing that a fresh inroad was made into Satan's territories, by Mr. Wesley's following me in field-preaching as well in London as in Bristol. The Lord give him ten thousand times more success than He has given me!"

The step was taken. Three days afterwards, Wesley began his wondrous outdoor ministry in Moorfields and at Kennington Common; and, a week after that, urged by Whitefield, Charles Wesley "broke down the bridge, became desperate," went forth in the name of Jesus Christ, found near ten thousand helpless sinners waiting for the word, in Moorfields, and preached to them from Matt. xi. 28. At night, on Kennington Common, he "cried to multitudes upon multitudes, 'Repent ye, and believe the gospel.'" "The Lord," says high-church Charles, "was my strength, and my mouth, and my wisdom."

Thus did the three great Methodists become outdoor preachers. Whitefield was not with his friends on either of the Sundays when they commenced to preach in Moorfields and at Kennington. On the first Sunday, June 17, he had a glorious day among his friends in Kent. He began by preaching in Bexley Church. Then he assisted in administering the Lord's supper. Next, he baptized an adult, twenty-eight years of age. Then he dined with the Delamottes at Blendon, "and took sweet counsel with many Christian friends." After this, he "preached to above twenty thousand people at Blackheath;" and, Sunday though it was, finished up by again having supper, and holding a meeting at the Green Man public-house. He writes: "There were nearly three hundred in the room. I continued in exhortation and prayer till eleven o'clock, and then retired to bed, much pleased to think that religion, which had long been skulking in corners, and was almost laughed out of the world, should now begin to appear abroad, and openly shew herself at noonday."

Thus was Whitefield occupied on the day when Wesley, for the first time, preached in Moorfields and at Kennington Common. And what about the ensuing Sunday, June 24, when Charles Wesley dared to copy John's example? Whitefield shall tell his own story. He writes:—

"Sunday, June 24. Read prayers, and assisted in administering the sacrament at Bexley Church. Many came from far, and expected to hear me preach; but the diocesan had been pleased to insist on the vicar's denying me the pulpit. Whether for just cause, God shall judge at the last day. If we have done anything worthy of the censures of the Church, why do not the Right Reverend the Bishops call us to a public account? If not, why do they not confess and own us? They say it is not regular, our going out into the highways and hedges, and compelling poor sinners to come in. We ought not so to beseech them to be reconciled to God. They desire to know by what authority we preach, and ask, What sign shewest thou that thou doest these things? Alas! what further sign would they require? We went not into the fields till we were excluded the churches. And has not God set His seal to our ministry in an extraordinary manner? Have not many that were spiritually blind received their sight? Have not the deaf heard? the lepers been cleansed? the dead been raised? That these notable miracles have been wrought, not in our own names, or by our own powers, but in the name and by the power of Jesus Christ, cannot be denied—and yet they require a sign! But verily there shall no other sign be given to this evil and adulterous generation!

"Preached in the afternoon to about three hundred people, in Justice Delamotte's yard; and, in the evening, on Blackheath, to upwards of twenty thousand, on these words, 'And they cast him out.' God grant we may learn, when we are reviled, not to revile again! When we suffer, may we threaten not, but commit our souls into the hands of Him that judgeth righteously! Lord, endue us with the spirit of Thy first martyr, St. Stephen, that we may pray most earnestly for our very murderers!"

The sermon just mentioned was probably the same as one which was soon after published, with the following title:—"The Spirit, Doctrines, and Lives of our Modern Clergy, not conformable to the Spirit of Christ. A Sermon preached at Islington and Bexley. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 33 pp.) The text was, Luke iv. 29, "And they thrust him out of the city."

Rightly to understand Whitefield's position, a few extracts from this notable sermon are necessary.

"My brethren, if we will live godly, we must suffer persecution. We must no more expect to go to heaven without being persecuted, than to be happy without being holy. If you lead godly lives, all the sons of Belial, all the scribes and Pharisees, will hate you, and have you in reproach. They will point at you, and cry, 'See, yonder comes another troop of his followers! There are more of his gang!' You are counted as a parcel of ignorant people, poor rabble, who are deceived by a vain young upstart babbler, by a madman, one who is running into enthusiastic notions, and endeavours to lead all his followers into his mad way of thinking. The Pharisees may wonder what I mean by talking of persecution in a Christian country; but, if they had their will, they would as willingly put our feet in the stocks, shut us up in prison, and take away our lives, as they have thrust us out of their synagogues. But let not that discourage you from hearing the word of God; for Jesus Christ can meet us as well in a field, as between church walls."

"If you were of the world—if you would conform to the ways, manners, and customs of the world—if you would go to a play, or ball, or masquerade, the world would then love you, because you would be its own. But, because you despise their polite entertainments, and go to hear a sermon in the field, and will not run into the same excess of riot as others, they esteem you as methodically mad, and fit only for Bedlam. If you would frequent horse-racing, assemblies, and cock-fighting, then you would be caressed and admired by our gay gentlemen; but your despising these innocent diversions, (as the world calls them,) makes them esteem you as a parcel of rabble, of no taste, who are going to destroy yourselves by being over-righteous. If you would join them in singing the song of the drunkard, they would think you a good companion; but because you are for singing hymns, and praising the Lord Jesus Christ, they think you enthusiasts. Indeed, our polite gentry would like religion very well, if it did but countenance an assembly, or allow them to read novels, plays, and romances; if they might go a-visiting on Sundays, or to a play or ball whenever they pleased. In short, they would like to live a fashionable, polite life, to take their full swing of pleasures, and go to heaven when they die. But, if they were to be admitted to heaven without a purification of heart and life, they would be unhappy there. It would be a hell to them. Angels and all good men would be esteemed enthusiasts and madmen. Heaven might be agreeable, if there were the same polite entertainments there, as they seem so much pleased with here; but there is never a horse-course or cock-pit all over heaven."

The same sermon contains a violent philippic against the clergy of the Established Church. Whitefield accuses them of thrusting him out of their churches, and of depriving him "of the rights and privileges which" he "ought to enjoy." This was petulance. He had no right to preach in other men's churches. The clergy might be discourteous in closing their churches against a young man recently appointed to the living of Savannah in Georgia; but it is difficult to conceive how such an act deprived him of his "rights and privileges." No doubt, many of the clergy were unconverted; their lives worldly; and their sermons short, jejune, and often heterodox; but Whitefield's preaching at and against them was not the best way to make them better. He proceeds:—

"Is it becoming a minister of the Church of England to frequent those places of polite entertainment, which are condemned by all serious and good men? Is it not inconsistent with all goodness for ministers to frequent play-houses, balls, masquerades? Would it not better become them to visit the poor of their flock, to pray with them, and to examine how it stands with God and their souls? Would it not be more agreeable to the temper of the blessed Jesus, to be going about doing good, than going about setting evil examples? How frequent is it for the poor and illiterate people to be drawn away more by example than by precept? How frequent is it for them to say, 'Sure there can be no crime in going to a play, or to an ale-house,—no crime in gaming and drinking, when a minister of our own Church does this.' This is the common talk of poor, ignorant people, who are too willing to follow the examples of their teachers. The examples of the generality of the clergy occasion many persons, committed to their charge, to run to the devil's entertainments. Good God! are these the men who are charging others with making too great a noise about religion?"

Enough! It is a curious fact that the sermon, from which these extracts are taken, is not included in Whitefield's collected works. Perhaps it was wisely omitted. It would have done no honour to its author, and been no benefit to its reader. Still it was preached, printed, published, sold, and read in 1739, and was one of the things which contributed to bring upon Whitefield and the Methodists the rage of both the pulpit and the press of that period.

It has been already stated, that, on the same day that this sermon was delivered on Blackheath, Whitefield also preached "to about three hundred people in Justice Delamotte's yard." His text in the "yard" was Hebrews iv. 9. The sermon, or rather incoherent address, founded upon this scripture, was likewise published, with the following title: "An Exhortation to the People of God not to be discouraged in their way, by the Scoffs and Contempt of Wicked Men. A Sermon preached in Mr. Delamotte's Yard, at Blendon Hall, near Bexley. By George Whitefield, A.B., of Pembroke College, Oxford. London: printed for C. Whitefield, in the year 1739." (12mo. 12 pp.) The general tone of the "Exhortation" is the same as that of the sermon on Blackheath. It was an unwise act to commit such productions to the press; but, being published, they must be noticed. Under the shadow of the magistrate's mansion, the excited young orator exclaimed:—

"Here we are scoffed and derided; but be not discouraged. Though we are here the scorn and offscouring of all things, we are as a gazing-stock to men and angels. They put us out of their synagogues, and look upon us as persons unfit for their company; but in that rest, which is prepared for you, we shall be gazed at for our glory, and they be shut out of the church of saints, and separated from us, whether they will or no, unless the Lord Jesus Christ, by His free, rich, and sovereign grace, brings them unto Himself. The letter-learned scribes and Pharisees of the day look on us as madmen and enthusiasts. They think it strange that we run not with them into all excess of riot, and speak evil of us because we will not go to the devil's diversions with them. We cannot go along the street, but every one is pointing out his finger with scorn, and crying, 'Here comes another of his followers.' 'What! are you, too, become one of his disciples?' Let none of these things move you. Though you are thus treated here, you will have no discouraging company in heaven. You will have no scoffer there. You will not be counted enthusiasts, madmen, and rabble there. Undergo a few reproaches here patiently. Do not revile them again. Let them say what they please of me; the reproaches, and scorn, and contempt of this world will no ways hurt me, but will turn upon their own heads. Therefore, I beseech you, do not answer them again; but leave it to the Lord, who knows what is best for you and me."

During his visit to the Delamotte family at Blendon Hall, Whitefield had a run into Herts and Essex. His five days' evangelistic tour was full of incidents. He went to Hertford at the earnest request of many of the people there. The "Baptist teacher" of the town sent his horse to London to bring him. He was visited by Quakers. He "breakfasted, dined, prayed, and sung hymns with Mr. S——, a Dissenting minister." He preached thrice, his respective congregations numbering from three to five thousand people each.

By invitation, also, he "hasted to Broad-Oaks, about twenty miles from Hertford." Here a family resided divided against itself. Some of the family were converted, and were "most violently opposed and persecuted," by others who were not. The clergyman had been employed by the opponents to cure the religionists of their madness, and, among other things, he had preached against them. Whitefield went to strengthen and to comfort the new converts; and says, "I spent the most heavenly night I have known for a long while. We found the sweets of opposition, and rejoiced greatly in the prospect of suffering for Christ's sake. I believe the saints of old had never so much comfort as when they were obliged to shut the doors for fear of the Jews, and to hide themselves in dens and caves of the earth."

While at Broad-Oaks, Whitefield was visited by William Delamotte, son of the magistrate residing at Blendon Hall. William had become a Moravian, and was now a student in Cambridge University. The following account of him and of his family will be read with interest. Whitefield writes:—

"To increase our satisfaction," at Broad-Oaks, "Mr. Delamotte, a convert of Mr. Ingham's, came from Cambridge to meet us. He is scandalously opposed at that University. The students make him a proverb of reproach, and abuse him in the rudest manner. He has been forbid coming into one college; and two or three who associate with him have been threatened by their tutors for keeping him company. And here I cannot but remark what wonderful mercies God has shewn this Mr. Delamotte's family. About three or four years ago, God was pleased to touch the heart of his brother Charles, who, hearing that Mr. Wesley was going to Georgia, (though his father would have settled him in a very handsome way,) offered to go abroad with him as a servant. His parents' consent was asked; but they, and almost all their relations, opposed it strenuously. However, the young man being resolute, and convinced that God called him, they at length somewhat consented. He went abroad, lived with Mr. Wesley, served under him as a son in the gospel, did much good, and endured great hardships for the sake of Jesus Christ. Behold how God rewarded him for leaving all. While he was absent, God was pleased to make use of the ministry of Mr. Ingham and Mr. Charles Wesley in converting his mother, two sisters, and this young gentleman at Cambridge; who, I pray God, may stand as a barrier against the profaneness, debauchery, lukewarmness, and deism of that seat of learning, and prove both a Barnabas and Boanerges in the Church of England."

Whitefield's prayerful anticipations respecting William Delamotte were scarcely realized. Within four years after this, the young man died.[224]

Whitefield spent two happy nights at Broad-Oaks; and during the day-time preached twice at Saffron-Walden, once at Thaxted, and once at Bishop-Stortford. He returned to the Delamotte's at Blendon in sufficient time to preach his famous sermon against the clergy on June 24th.

In most, probably in all, of these journeys and open-air services, Mr. William Seward was Whitefield's companion. The following extract from a long letter written to the Rev. Thomas Seward, at Genoa, will be welcome:—

"Blendon, in Kent, June 16, 1739.

"Reverend and dear Brother,—By God's providence, we are not yet embarked for Georgia, so I have had the pleasure of receiving your kind and well-meant answer. I knew my letter would surprise you. I should have been surprised myself, had I been in your circumstances. Before long, I hope we shall all be of one mind. My brother Benjamin once opposed, as you do; but, blessed be God, he is now become a fool for Christ's sake.

"On my own behalf, I cannot sufficiently praise God for bringing me out of that darkness in which you left me, into His marvellous light. I know you imagined me to be a true Christian before you embarked, and so I thought myself. But I was almost a stranger to the doctrines of the Spirit of God, of regeneration, and of justification by faith only; nor do I remember to have heard any of them preached or explained by our clergy. I prayed, went to church, and gave alms; but why and wherefore I knew not. I knew little or nothing of a vital faith in Jesus Christ. I obeyed God and Christ in part, but not universally. I hated sin, but had not dominion over it. You say, my dear brother, that 'if a man who believes in Christ, and obeys God, is not a Christian, what is Christianity?' But the question is, what this belief may be? Not a bare historical assent to the truths and facts recorded in the Scripture, (for this is only the faith of devils,) but a vital faith wrought in the heart by the blessed Spirit of God, and productive of good works. This is a faith I never fully felt before Mr. Charles Wesley expounded the seventh of Romans, and I cannot but always honour him as an instrument in God's hand of shewing me the true way of salvation by Jesus Christ. You may call this Quakerism, or what you please; but I know it is the faith which Christ and His apostles preached.

"You pray, my dear brother, that we may return to the Church of England. We are not dissenting from it; neither are the Methodists, as the world, in derision, calls them. They constantly preach up the articles, collects, homilies, and liturgies of our own Church. But here lies the truth of the matter. The doctrines of the Reformation have lain a long while dormant. The generality of our English clergy have sadly fallen from them. God has raised up some to preach the truth as it is in Jesus, and as held by our Church. He has set His seal to their ministry. They have made abundantly more converts than those zealous atheists you mentioned. The pleasure, preferment-loving clergy envy their success, and, therefore, are confederate against them. Perhaps you may think this uncharitable; but I think I speak the truth in Christ.

"I am far from being bigotted to the Methodists, or to Mr. Whitefield in particular, out of a blind zeal. I will follow him no farther than he follows Christ. I believe him to be a sincere good minister of Jesus Christ. You do not seem to think so. Who wants charity, you or I? 'By their fruits ye shall know them,' says our Lord. Do the other clergy bring forth such fruit? You seem to reflect on me for going round the kingdom with such a knight-errant as Whitefield. I wish you had used milder terms. But, my dear brother, may I not justly turn the tables upon yourself, and reflect on you for leaving your flock, and travelling merely for profit, or little else? Perhaps you may answer, you have committed your flock to the care of a curate. But may I not reply to you, as St. Bernard did once on a like occasion, 'Will your curate be damned for you?' Do not charge others with being righteous over-much, before you can prove you are righteous enough yourself. Return home, my dear brother; watch diligently that flock committed to your care; catechize and visit from house to house; live as Christ lived; teach as He taught; leave off hunting after preferment, and cease to please the polite world; and then I will think you a proper person to judge whether the Methodists are enthusiasts or not.

"Excuse me, my dear brother, this seeming severity. Love for God, love for you, constrains me to use this freedom. Yet a little while, and I embark for Georgia. I have settled my worldly affairs, and have taken care of my dear child. God has begun a good work in our house. I believe He will carry it on. He has given me my brother Benjamin, and will He not give me my brother Thomas also? I am, your affectionate, though weak and unworthy brother in Christ,

"William Seward."

It has been already stated that, on the 14th of June, Wesley was with Whitefield on Blackheath, and preached to Whitefield's congregation. Four days afterwards, Wesley returned to Bristol, and, a week later, Whitefield addressed to him the following important letter. The two friends on some points differed in their opinions. Whitefield disapproved of the "convulsions" of Wesley's converts in Bristol. And again, though no Calvinism can be found in any of the sermons which Whitefield as yet had published, it is evident, from the subjoined epistle, that already he was inclined to the predestinarian creed.

"London, June 25, 1739.

"Honoured Sir,—I cannot think it right in you to give so much encouragement to those convulsions which people have been thrown into under your ministry. Were I to do so, how many would cry out every night! I think it is tempting God to require such signs. That there is something of God in it, I doubt not. But the devil, I believe, does interpose. I think it will encourage the French Prophets,[225] take people from the written word, and make them depend on visions, convulsions, etc., more than on the promises and precepts of the gospel.

"Honoured sir, how could you tell that some who came to you 'were in a good measure sanctified?' What fruits could be produced in one night's time? 'By their fruits,' says our Lord, 'shall ye know them.'

"I hear, honoured sir, that you are about to print a sermon against predestination.[226] It shocks me to think of it. What will be the consequences but controversy? If people ask my opinion, what shall I do? I have a critical part to act. God enable me to behave aright! Silence on both sides will be best. It is noised abroad already that there is a division between you and me, and my heart within me is grieved. Providence to-morrow calls me to Gloucester. If you will be pleased to come next week to London, I think, God willing, to stay a few days at Bristol. Your brother Charles goes to Oxon. I believe we shall be excommunicated soon. May the Lord enable us to stand fast in the faith, and stir up your heart to watch over the soul of, honoured sir, your dutiful son and servant,

"George Whitefield."[227]

Wesley did not come to London; but, as will soon be seen, Whitefield went to Bristol. Meanwhile, the young Georgian clergyman was one of the most notorious men in England. Even the Gentleman's Magazine, in its number for the month of June, inserted a laudatory poem "on Mr. Whitefield's preaching," in which Whitefield's sermons are contrasted with the sermons of the Arians, and wonder is expressed that the people should object to Whitefield's doctrines. With indignant feeling the versifier writes:—

The Weekly Miscellany hardly allowed a week to pass without fulminating its wrath against the open-air preacher. In the month of May, the Rev. Josiah Tucker,[228] a young man of eight-and-twenty, curate of All Saints', Bristol, but afterwards a doctor of divinity, and Dean of Gloucester, proposed three "queries" to Whitefield. In the month of June, an anonymous friend deigned to answer them. This increased the young curate's angry indignation, and he immediately replied, accusing Whitefield of propagating "blasphemous and enthusiastic notions which struck at the root of all religion, and made it the jest of those who sat in the seat of the scornful." He also related, rightly or wrongly, that "Whitefield, by his friends, prevented the printing of his" (Tucker's) "queries in the Bristol Journal;" and, instead of replying to them, wrote a letter telling the querist "very lordly and laconically, 'My motto is, Answer him not a word.'" Mr. Tucker continues, "He has, likewise, pronounced sentence against me, 'That while I remain in this way of thinking, he absolutely despairs of meeting me in heaven;' and says he can produce two cobblers in Bristol who know more of true Christianity than all the clergy in the city put together."

Whitefield had dared to preach at Charlton, in close proximity to Greenwich, and this aroused Dr. Skerret, who published a corrective sermon, for the safety of his flock, with the following title: "The Nature and Proper Evidence of Regeneration; or, the New and Second Birth: considered in a Sermon preached in the Parish Churches of East Greenwich, in the County of Kent, upon Whitsunday, and St. Peter the Poor, London, on Trinity-Sunday, 1739. By Ralph Skerret, D.D., Chaplain to the Right Honourable Henry Earl of Grantham. London, 1739." (8vo, 36 pp.) In his preface, Dr. Skerret accuses Whitefield and his friends as "restless deceivers of the people;" as "subtle and designing men;" and says "they break in upon all relative duties, and the benefits of social life, by daily assembling themselves in troops, upon hills and the neighbouring commons, under a vain pretence of serving God more acceptably. But all such service is contrary to common decency, unanimity, and good order, and is a contempt of the established places of worship in their own parishes."

The celebrated Dr. Byrom met Whitefield in London, at the end of June; and, in a letter to his wife, observed:—

"While we were at Cousin W. Chad's last night, the so much talked of Mr. Whitefield came in. He stayed about a quarter of an hour and then took coach to Gloucestershire. I am surprised at the progress which he has made, to which the weakness of his printing adversaries does not a little contribute. He had lords, dukes, etc., to hear him at Blackheath, who gave guineas and half-guineas for his Orphan House. He does surprising things, and has a great number of followers, both curious and real. This field-preaching, they say, is got into France, as well as Germany, England, Scotland, Wales, etc. People are more and more alarmed at the wonder of it, but none offer to stop it, that I hear of."[229]

Scraps like these are useful as helping to exhibit young Whitefield's notoriety. He must now be tracked to the west of England.

One of the kindest and most faithful friends of Whitefield and the Wesleys was Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, a banker in Lombard Street, London. Mr. Blackwell had already joined the Methodists; and Whitefield, on arriving at Cirencester, wrote to him the following characteristic letter, now for the first time published:—

"Cirencester, June 27, 1739.

"Dear Mr. Blackwell,—Last night, God brought us hither in safety. I have now a few moments' leisure. How can I employ them better than in writing you? I almost envy you, because, when I left you, you were sick. Glorious lessons, dear sir, may you learn from such a visitation. It may remind you of the much greater sickness and disorder of your soul, and give you an excellent opportunity of retiring in order to prepare yourself for the buffetings of a ridiculing world. Ere I return, I expect to hear you are stigmatized, not only in Lombard Street, but, in all the places round about. For Christ's servants have always been the world's fools. And, if you will live godly in Christ Jesus, you, even you, must suffer persecution. But you know in whom you have believed. He is able and willing to deliver you. Go on, therefore, my dear friend, in the strength of Christ. Make mention of His righteousness only. Give Him your heart—your whole heart. Cleave to Him by faith in His blood; and then you may bid men and devils defiance. Oh! Mr. Blackwell, I would not have you a Demas for the world. But away with all such thoughts. I cannot bear them. Dearest Mr. Blackwell, I am ever yours in our Lord Jesus Christ,

"George Whitefield.

"P.S.—My most hearty love to Brother Sparks, Horn, etc."

This, probably, was the first Methodist letter received by the Lombard-street banker.

Whitefield's proceedings, during the next few days, are sketched in the following extracts from his Journal:—

"Wednesday, June 27. I waited on the minister of Cirencester, and asked him for the use of his pulpit; but he refused it, because I had not my letters of orders. Went to public worship at eleven; and preached to about three thousand people, in a field near the town, at twelve. Was afterwards visited by several gracious souls of the Baptist congregation, who brought me five guineas for the Orphan House. About seven in the evening, I reached Gloucester, and visited the Society, and expounded for an hour to more people than the room would contain.

"Thursday, June 28. Preached in the morning to about a thousand people in my brother's field. Went to public prayers at the cathedral. Waited upon the bishop, who received me very civilly. Visited some sick persons in the afternoon. Preached at night to upwards of three thousand.

"Friday, June 29. Preached in my brother's field in the morning to a large and very affected congregation. Went to the cathedral service. Visited some religious friends; and preached to above three thousand souls in the street at Painswick.[230] All was hushed and silent. The Divine Presence was amongst us.

"Saturday, June 30. Preached in the morning, in the bowling-green at Stroud, to near two thousand people; and in the evening, at Gloucester, to a larger and more affected congregation than ever.

Thus ended another eventful month. On Sunday, July 1, Whitefield preached not fewer than four times. First, in his brother's field at Gloucester, at seven o'clock in the morning; and next at Randwick, a village about seven miles from Gloucester, where he was allowed to preach, both forenoon and afternoon, in the parish church. "The church," says he, "was quite full, and about two thousand were in the churchyard, who, by taking down the window behind the pulpit, had the conveniency of hearing. Many wept sorely." At the conclusion of the afternoon service, he hastened to Hampton Common, where, he writes, "To my great surprise, I found no fewer than twenty thousand, on horseback and foot, ready to hear me. I spoke with greater freedom than I had done all the day before. About twelve at night, I reached Gloucester, much fresher than when I left it in the morning."

Notwithstanding his hard day's work, Whitefield preached next morning, in his "brother's field, to a larger audience than ever." He then went off to Tewkesbury. As soon as he arrived, four constables, sent by the bailiff of the town, came either to arrest or frighten him. One of Whitefield's friends, a lawyer, requested the constables to shew their warrant. The officious quaternion had no warrant to exhibit, and hence the lawyer "sent them about their business;" and Whitefield, notwithstanding their threats, preached in a field to a congregation of two or three thousand people. Next morning, the preacher waited upon the bailiff, and asked him why he had sent the constables, with their staves, to arrest him. The bailiff threw the responsibility of his foolish act upon the town council; but added, that "a certain judge" had threatened to apprehend Whitefield "as a vagrant," if he dared to preach near the place where he resided. "The judge," said Whitefield, "is welcome to do as he pleases; but no magistrate, I conceive, has power to stop my preaching, even in the streets." "No, sir," replied the bailiff; "and if you preach here to-morrow, you shall have the constables to attend you." "After this," says Whitefield, "I took my leave, telling him to be careful to appoint constables to attend at the next horse-races, balls, and assemblies."

From Tewkesbury, Whitefield proceeded to Evesham. Here again the magistrates threatened to apprehend him if he "preached within their liberties." Accordingly, to prevent this, he preached thrice from a wall near Benjamin Seward's house, his congregations consisting of thousands.

On Wednesday, July 4, after breakfasting with a Quaker, Whitefield, accompanied by about thirty of his friends, left Evesham for Pershore, whither he had been invited by the incumbent, the Rev. Mr. Parks. Having read prayers and preached in Mr. Parks's church, Whitefield writes: "About five in the evening, I took an affectionate leave of Evesham friends, and, in company with about one hundred and twenty on horseback, went to Tewkesbury, and never saw a town so much alarmed. The streets were crowded with people from all parts. I rode immediately through the town, and preached to about six thousand hearers in a field, but saw no constables either to molest or attend on me. Immediately after sermon, I took horse, and reached Gloucester near midnight."

This was a marvellous scene, in a quiet country town of between three and four thousand inhabitants. Think of a cavalcade, numbering more than a hundred persons, with a young clergyman at their head, riding, on a fine evening in summer, from ten to twelve miles—from Evesham to Tewkesbury—and all the way making the welkin ring with the singing of "psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs." No wonder that Tewkesbury was, if not "alarmed," yet excited; and no wonder that the Christian equestrians drew after them a congregation of six thousand people.

Whitefield had preached thrice, and had ridden between thirty and forty miles, and had not reached Gloucester till nearly midnight; but, notwithstanding this, he preached again at Gloucester next morning, and then set out to join his friend Wesley at Bristol. Arriving in the evening at Chafford Common, about eight miles from Gloucester, he found a congregation of more than ten thousand people awaiting him, and preached to them about two hours, "till it was nearly dark."

On the following morning, July 6, he resumed his journey; and, when approaching Bristol, was met by numbers of his friends. As he entered, the bells of the city were set a-ringing. "I was received," says he, "as an angel of God; and, at seven in the evening, preached at Baptist Mills to about six or seven thousand people."

Three months had elapsed since he left Bristol and Kingswood to the care of Wesley; and in the interval strange scenes had been witnessed. Wesley, the high-churchman, had followed Whitefield's example, by regularly preaching in the open-air. Under his ministry, large numbers had been convinced of sin. Many of them had been thrown into violent convulsions, and not a few had found peace with God. Wesley had been permitted to preach in Newgate, from which Whitefield had virtually been expelled. He had commenced building, in the Horse Fair, Bristol, the first Methodist meeting house. He had conveyed the property to eleven trustees; but, at Whitefield's remonstrance, and by mutual consent, the trust deed had been destroyed, and the management of the building was now entirely in Wesley's own hands. He had also begun to build the school at Kingswood, for which, on March 29, Whitefield had made the first collection; and the site of which, on April 2, Whitefield had consecrated, by kneeling upon a loose stone, and praying "that the gates of hell might not prevail against the colliers' design."

Of course, Wesley met Whitefield, and went with him to Baptist Mills, where, says the former, "he preached concerning 'the Holy Ghost, which all who believe are to receive;' not without a just, though severe, censure of those who preach as if there were no Holy Ghost." Wesley continues:—

"Saturday, July 7. I had an opportunity to talk with Mr. Whitefield of those outward signs which had so often accompanied the inward work of God. I found his objections were chiefly grounded on gross misrepresentations of matter of fact. But the next day, he had an opportunity of informing himself better; for no sooner had he begun, in the application of his sermon, to invite all sinners to believe in Christ, than four persons sunk down close to him, almost in the same moment. One of them lay without either sense or motion. A second trembled exceedingly. A third had strong convulsions all over his body, but made no noise, unless by groans. The fourth, equally convulsed, called upon God with strong cries and tears. From this time, I trust, we shall all suffer God to carry on His own work in the way that pleaseth Him."

So much as it respects Wesley. What did Whitefield say? He writes:—

"Saturday, July 7. Settled some affairs concerning our brethren, and had a useful conversation about many things with my honoured friend Mr. John Wesley. Dined at my sister's. Preached at Baptist Mills, to near the same number of people as last night, and found that Bristol had great reason to bless God for the ministry of Mr. John Wesley. The congregations I observed to be much more serious and affected than when I left them; and their loud and repeated Amens, which they put up to every petition, as well as the exemplariness of their conversation in common life, plainly shew that they have not received the grace of God in vain. That good, great good, is done is evident. Either this is done by an evil or good spirit. If you say by an evil spirit, I answer in our Lord's own words, 'If Satan be divided against Satan, how can his kingdom stand?' If by a good Spirit, why do not the clergy and the rest of the Pharisees believe our report? It is little less than blasphemy against the Holy Ghost to impute the great work, that has been in so short a time wrought in this kingdom, to delusion and the power of the devil."

On Sunday, July 8, Whitefield preached thrice—first, at the Bowling Green, Bristol, "to about ten thousand people;" next, at Hannam Mount, to nearly the same number; and, in the evening, at Rose Green, to about twenty thousand.

On Tuesday, July 10, he writes:—

"Preached yesterday evening, at the Brick-yard, to about eight thousand people. Dined to-day with my honoured fellow-labourer, Mr. Wesley, and many other friends, at Two-mile Hill, in Kingswood, and preached afterwards to several thousand people and colliers, in the school-house, which has been carried on so successfully, that the roof is ready to be put up. The design, I think, is good. Old as well as young are to be instructed. A great and visible alteration is made in the behaviour of the colliers. Instead of cursing and swearing, they are heard to sing hymns about the woods; and the rising generation, I hope, will be a generation of Christians. They seem much affected by the word, and are observed to attend the churches and societies, when Mr. Wesley is absent from them. Went immediately after sermon was ended, with Mr. Wesley and several other friends, to Bath, and preached to about three thousand people. It rained a little all the while, but the people were patient and attentive. Heard to-day, also, that the town clerk of Bristol did my brother Wesley and me the honour to desire the grand jury, at their quarter-sessions, to present our meetings, and to have the Riot Act read, but they did not regard him. Nay, one, who was called to serve on the petty jury, offered to submit to any fine rather than do anything against us; who, he said, were true servants of Jesus Christ.

"Wednesday, July 11. Preached" (at Bath) "in the morning, to a larger audience than last night. Hastened to Bristol, and preached, in the evening, at Baptist Mills. After this, my brother Wesley and I went to the Women and Men's Societies, settled some affairs, and united the two leading Societies together.

"Thursday, July 12. Was busy most of the day in preparing a sermon for the press, on 'The Indwelling of the Spirit,' which I would recommend to all. Preached, in the evening, to eight or nine thousand people, in the Bowling Green.

"Friday, July 13. Preached my farewell sermon, at seven in the morning, to a weeping audience. My heart was full, and I continued near two hours in prayer and preaching. The poor people shed many tears, and sent up thousands of prayers on my behalf. Their mites they most cheerfully contributed to the school-house at Kingswood. Retired after sermon to vent my heart, which was ready to burst with a sense of God's special, distinguishing, repeated mercies."

Thus, for the present, ended Whitefield's ministry in Bristol, for he was not there again until nearly two years afterwards. Wesley writes:—

"July 13. In the afternoon, I left Bristol with Mr. Whitefield, in the midst of heavy rain. But the clouds soon dispersed, so that we had a fair, calm evening, and a serious congregation at Thornbury."

Before following the two friends, an important incident must be mentioned. The reader has already learned, that, from the first, good Bishop Benson had been Whitefield's friend; but, on the day Whitefield left Gloucester for Bristol, he received a letter from the bishop, "in which," says he, "his lordship affectionately admonished me, and expressed the opinion that I ought to preach the Gospel only in the congregation to which I was lawfully appointed."

To this affectionate admonition, Whitefield returned the following answer:—

"Bristol, July 9, 1739.

"My Lord,—I thank your lordship for your lordship's kind letter. My frequent removes from place to place prevented my answering it sooner.

"I am greatly obliged to your lordship, in that you are pleased to watch over my soul, and to caution me against acting contrary to the commission given me at ordination. But, if the commission we then receive obliges us to preach nowhere but in that parish which is committed to our care, then all persons act contrary to their commission when they preach occasionally in any strange place; and, consequently, your lordship equally offends when you preach out of your own diocese.

"As for inveighing against the clergy, without a cause, I deny the charge. What I say, I am ready to make good whenever your lordship pleases. Let those, who bring reports to your lordship about my preaching, be brought face to face, and I am ready to give them an answer. St. Paul exhorts Timothy not to receive an accusation against an elder under two or three witnesses. And even Nicodemus could say, the law suffered no man to be condemned unheard. I shall only add, that I hope your lordship will inspect the lives of your other clergy, and censure them for being over-remiss, as much as you censure me for being over-righteous. It is their falling from their Articles, and not preaching the truth as it is in Jesus, that has excited the present zeal of those, whom they, in derision, call the Methodist preachers.

"Dr. Stebbing's sermon[231] (for which I thank your lordship) confirms me more and more in my opinion, that I ought to be instant in season and out of season; for, to me, he seems to know no more of the true nature of regeneration than Nicodemus did when he came to Jesus by night. Your lordship may observe that he does not speak a word of original sin, or the dreadful consequences of our fall in Adam, upon which the doctrine of the new birth is entirely founded. No; like other polite preachers, he seems to think that St. Paul's description of the wickedness of the heathen is only to be referred to those of past ages: whereas I affirm, we are all included as much under the guilt and consequences of sin as they were.

"Again, my lord, the doctor entirely mistakes us when we talk of the sensible operations of the Holy Ghost. I know not that we use the word sensible; but, if we do, we do not mean that God's Spirit manifests itself to our senses, but that it may be perceived by the soul, as really as any sensible impression made upon the body. Although the operations of the Spirit of God can no more be accounted for than how the wind cometh and goeth, yet may they be as easily felt by the soul as the wind may be felt by the body. My lord, indeed, we speak what we know.

"But, says the doctor, 'These men have no proof to offer for their inward manifestations.' What proof, my lord, does the doctor require? Would he have us raise dead bodies? Have we not done greater things than these? I speak with all humility. Has not God, by our ministry, raised many dead souls to a spiritual life? Verily, if men will not believe the evidence God has given that He sent us, neither would they believe though one rose from the dead.

"Besides, my lord, the doctor charges us with things we are entire strangers to,—such as denying men the use of God's creatures; and encouraging abstinence and prayer to the neglect of the duties of our station. Lord, lay not this sin to his charge!

"But, the doctor, and the rest of my reverend brethren, are welcome to judge me as they please. Yet a little while, and we shall all appear before the great Shepherd of our souls. There, there, my lord, shall it be determined who are His true ministers, and who are only wolves in sheep's clothing. Our Lord, I believe, will not be ashamed to confess us publicly in that day. I pray God, we all may approve ourselves such faithful ministers of the New Testament, that we may be able to lift up our heads with boldness!

"As for declining the work in which I am engaged, my blood runs chill at the very thought of it. I am as much convinced it is my duty to act as I do, as I am that the sun shines at noonday. I can foresee the consequences very well. They have already, in one sense, thrust us out of the synagogues. By-and-by, they will think it is doing God service to kill us. But, my lord, if you and the rest of the bishops cast us out, our great and common Master will take us up. However you may censure us as evil-doers and disturbers of the peace, yet, if we suffer for our present way of acting, your lordship, at the great day, will find that we suffer only for righteousness' sake. In patience, therefore, do I possess my soul. I will willingly tarry the Lord's leisure. In the meanwhile, I shall continually bear your lordship's favours upon my heart, and endeavour to behave, so as to subscribe myself,

"My lord, your lordship's obedient son and obliged servant,

"George Whitefield."

This was a bold letter to the venerable prelate, who had always been Whitefield's friend, and who, only six months before, had admitted him to the orders of a priest. But to return, let us follow the young evangelist in his wanderings. He writes:—

"Saturday, July 14. Preached" (at Thornbury) "at eight this morning, to an attentive congregation. Breakfasted at a Quaker's, and reached Gloucester, with my honoured friend, Mr. John Wesley, and some others, in the afternoon. Went to the cathedral prayers, and afterwards preached to a congregation a third part larger than I have had in this place before.

Whitefield merely mentions the Quaker at Thornbury—Wesley gives a more detailed account, and takes the opportunity of lashing the pretended teachers of the people. He writes as follows:—

"July 14. We breakfasted" (at Thornbury) "with a Quaker, who had been brought up in the Church of England; but, being under strong convictions of inward sin, and applying to several persons for advice, they all judged him to be under a disorder of body, and gave advice accordingly. Some Quakers, with whom he met about the same time, told him it was the hand of God upon his soul; and advised him to seek another sort of relief than those miserable comforters had recommended. 'Woe unto you, ye blind leaders of the blind!' How long will ye pervert the right ways of the Lord? Ye, who tell the mourners in Zion, 'Much religion hath made you mad!' Ye, who send them, whom God hath wounded, to the devil for cure; to company, idle books, or diversions! Thus shall they perish in their iniquity; but their blood shall God require at your hands."

Next morning the two friends parted, not to meet again until the year 1741, when, unfortunately, there was a rupture between them, which, hereafter, will demand attention. Leaving Wesley to preach to assembled thousands in Gloucester, Whitefield set out for London. He writes:—

"Sunday, July 15. Left my honoured friend, Mr. Wesley, to preach to about seven thousand souls in Gloucester. Preached twice in Randwick Church, and assisted in administering the sacrament to two hundred and seventy communicants. In the evening, at Hampton Common, I was enabled to preach to about twenty thousand.

"July 16. Preached, at noon, at Tedbury, to about four thousand people. Many, of divers denominations, came to meet me, with whom I took sweet counsel. Visited, in the afternoon, Mr. O——, a Baptist teacher. At seven, in the evening, preached to about three thousand people at Malmesbury. Much opposition had been made, by the Pharisees, against my coming; and the minister, in particular, had written to the churchwarden to stop me.

"July 17. Preached to about two thousand, at eight in the morning; and reached Cirencester at six in the evening. Here also men breathed out threatenings against me. Numbers came from neighbouring towns. My congregation was as large again as when I preached here last.

"July 18. Preached at seven in the morning. I stood in the valley, and the people on an ascent, that formed a most beautiful amphitheatre. I reached Abingdon about seven in the evening, and preached to several thousands. Much opposition had been made against my coming. The landlord, whose house we offered to put up at, genteelly told us he had not room for us.

"July 19. At the request of several well-disposed people, preached again this morning, though not to so great a number as before. Reached Basingstoke about seven at night. Being languid and weary, I lay down soon after our coming to the inn; but was shortly told the landlord would not let us stay under his roof. Upon this, I immediately went to another inn. The people made a mock of both me and my friends, as we passed along, and fire-rockets were thrown around the door. About an hour after, I received the following letter, by the hands of the constable, from the mayor:—

"'Basingstoke, July 19, 1739.

"'Sir,—Being a civil magistrate in this town, I thought it my duty, for the preservation of the peace, to forbid you, or, at least, dissuade you, from preaching here. If you persist in it, in all probability it may occasion a disturbance, which, I think, it is your duty, as a clergyman, as well as mine, to prevent. If any mischief should ensue, (whatever pretence you may afterwards make in your own behalf,) I am satisfied it will fall on your own head, being timely cautioned by me, who am, sir, your most humble servant,

"'John Abbot.

"'P.S.—The Legislature has wisely made laws for the preservation of the peace; therefore, I hope no clergyman lives in defiance of them.'"

Thus wrote Mr. Abbot, mayor of Basingstoke—a butcher by business, but a stickler for peace. Whitefield immediately answered Mr. Abbot's letter, with a high-sounding courtesy, more due to Mr. Abbot's mayoralty than to his business:—

"Honoured Sir,—I thank you for your kind letter, and I humbly hope a sense of duty, and not a fear of man, caused you to write it.

"If so, give me leave to remind you, honoured sir, that you ought to be, not only a terror of evil-doers, but a praise to them that do well. I know of no law against such meetings as mine. If any such law exists, I believe you will think it your duty, honoured sir, to apprise me of it, that I may not offend against it. If no law can be produced, I think it my duty to inform you that you ought to protect an assembly of people meeting together purely to worship God.

"To-morrow, honoured sir, I hear there is to be an assembly of another nature. Be pleased to be as careful to have the public peace preserved at that; and to prevent profane cursing and swearing, and persons bruising each other's bodies by cudgelling and wrestling. If you do not this, I shall rise up against you at the great day, and be a swift witness against your partiality.

"I am, honoured sir, your very humble servant, "George Whitefield."

Next morning, Whitefield waited upon the magisterial butcher, to enquire about the law against his preaching. The mayor was unable to answer the preacher's enquiry, but said, "Sir, you ought to preach in a church." "So I would," replied Whitefield, "if your minister would give me leave." "Sir," said Mr. Abbot, "I believe you have some sinister ends in view. Why do you go about making a disturbance?" "I make no disturbance," answered Whitefield. "It was hard I could not come into your town without being insulted. It was your business, sir, to wait, and, if there was any riot in my meetings, then, and not till then, to interpose." "Sir," continued the zealous mayor, "you wrote to me about the revel to-day." "Yes," rejoined Whitefield, "you ought to go, and read the riot act, and put a stop to it."

Here the mayor and the preacher parted; but the contention was not ended. On the same day, the angry official, with a fair amount of scholarship for a man who handled the cleaver, as well as mace, sent to Whitefield a polished epistle, as follows:—

"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.

"Rev. Sir,—I received your extraordinary letter, and could expect no other from so uncommon a genius.

"I apprehend your meetings to be unlawful, having no toleration to protect you in it. My apprehension of religion always was, and I hope always will be, that God is to be worshipped in places consecrated and set apart for His service; and not in brothels, and places where all manner of debauchery may have been committed; but how far this is consistent with your actions, I leave you to judge.

"As for the other assembly you are pleased to mention, 'tis contrary to my will, having never given my consent to it, nor approved of it, but discouraged it before your reverendship came to this town; and, if these cudgellers persist in it, I shall set them upon the same level with you, and think you all breakers of the public peace. You very well know there are penal laws against cursing and swearing, and I could wish there were the same against deceit and hypocrisy.

"Your appearing against me as a swift witness, at the day of judgment, I must own, is a most terrible thing, and may serve as a bugbear for children, or people of weak minds; but, believe me, reverend sir, those disguises will have but little weight amongst men of common understanding.

"Yours, "John Abbot."

To this Whitefield returned the following reply:—

"Basingstoke, July 20, 1739.

"Honoured Sir—Does Mr. Mayor do well to be angry? Alas! what evil have I done? I honour you as a magistrate; but, as a minister, I am obliged to have no respect of persons. Your apprehending my meetings to be unlawful, does not make them so. There is no need of a toleration to protect me, when I do not act unconformable to any law, civil or ecclesiastical. Be pleased to prove that my meetings are schismatical, seditious, or riotous, and then I will submit.

"But you say they are upon unconsecrated ground. Honoured sir, give me leave to inform you, that God is not now confined to places. Where two or three are gathered together in Christ's name, there will Christ be in the midst of them. The Church, by our ministers in their prayer before their sermons, is defined to be, not the church walls, but a congregation of Christian people. Such is mine.

"As for judging me, to my own Master I stand or fall. At His dreadful tribunal I will meet you; and then you shall see what is in the heart of, honoured sir, your very humble servant,

"George Whitefield."

Notwithstanding the mayor's fulminated wrath, Whitefield went into a field, and began to preach. He suffered no interruption worth mentioning. Returning to the inn, he "prayed and sung psalms with a few disciples, and then took his leave." Passing along, however, he saw the "stage built for the cudgellers and wrestlers, and met divers coming to the revel." He was already a mile from Basingstoke; but, "seeing so many souls, for whom Christ died, ready to perish, and no minister or magistrate to interpose," he at once returned, mounted the stage, and began to shew the wrestlers, and cudgellers, and their friends "the error of their ways." The boys huzzaed. One of the "cudgellers" struck him with a cudgel. The crowd thronged and pushed him. To obtain a hearing was impossible; and, hence, the intrepid evangelist again set out for London. Perhaps it was well he did; hence the following from a letter written to him by a Quaker:—

"Basingstoke, July 21, 1739.

"My dear Friend,—When I yesterday went up to thy inn, and found thee just gone, I was sorry that I missed an opportunity of taking my leave of thee, and of expressing the sense I had of the presence and power of God with thee, especially in the latter part of thy sermon, and in thy prayer after it. However, I am truly glad that thou wert preserved out of the hands of cruel men. Thou heardest of the threatenings of many; but the malice of some went further. There were ten or twelve men lying in wait to do thee a private mischief. I know this, by the testimony of one of these very men, who boasted to me, 'We would have given him a secret blow, and prevented his making disturbances.'

"O thy noble testimony against the profaneness and vanity of the age! It rejoiced me not a little. But when thou earnest to the necessity, the nature, and the rewards of the new birth, thou wert carried beyond thyself. The fountain of life was opened, and flowed around amongst the living. I, for one, am a monument of free grace and mercy. O God, how boundless is Thy love!

"My dear friend, may we finally be received up into the mansions of glory, there to live with all the righteous generations, and to sing with them, hallelujahs, glory, and praise, for ever and ever. May the Ancient of Days keep thee in His arms, direct thee by His Spirit, support, comfort, and watch over thee, is the fervent prayer of thine in great sincerity,

"J. Portsmouth."

Whitefield arrived in London on Saturday, July 21, and, in the evening of the same day, "preached to upwards of ten thousand at Kennington Common." During his absence, Moorfields and Kennington Common had been supplied by Charles Wesley, and Whitefield writes: "Blessed be God for what has been done here, since I left London, by my honoured friend and fellow-labourer, Mr. Charles Wesley. All love, all glory be to God for giving so great an increase!"

"Sunday, July 22. Received a letter from Mr. Ralph Erskine, of Scotland. Some may be offended at my corresponding with him, but I dare not but confess my Lord's disciples. Preached, at seven in the morning, to about twenty thousand in Moorfields, and collected £24 17s. for the school-house at Kingswood. Ye scoffers, ye blind Pharisees, come and see, and then call these tumultuous, seditious assemblies, if you can. Would to God, they behaved so decently in any church in London! Went to St. Paul's, and received the blessed sacrament. Preached in the evening, at Kennington Common, to about thirty thousand hearers, and collected £15 15s. 6d. for the colliers. God gave me great power, and I never opened my mouth so freely against the letter-learned clergymen of the Church of England. Every day do I see the necessity of speaking out more and more. God knows my heart, I do not speak out of resentment. I heartily wish the Church of England was the joy of the whole earth; but I cannot see her sinking into papistical ignorance, and refined Deism, and not open my mouth against those who, by their sensual, lukewarm lives, and unscriptural, superficial doctrines, thus cause her to err."

Every day Whitefield was becoming more and more a Dissenter. The Rev. Ralph Erskine was the head of a sect of Dissenters who had recently seceded from the Church of Scotland. He and Whitefield were already friendly correspondents. Erskine's letter to Whitefield (mentioned in the above extract) is lost, but Whitefield's answer is preserved. The following is a part of it:—

"London, July 23, 1739.

"Reverend and Dear Sir,—Yesterday, with great pleasure, I received your kind letter. I was afraid lest I should have offended you. If this should be the case at any time, reprove me sharply, and I shall thank you with my whole heart. I bless God that my sermons are approved of by you. I am but a novice in the school of Christ; but my Master enlightens me more and more every day to know the exceeding great riches and freedom of His grace to all who believe in Jesus Christ.

"By this time, I hope you have seen my journal, and have given thanks for what great things God has done for my soul. An appendix will be printed shortly. The success of the gospel increases daily. Opposition, also, increases daily; but as opposition abounds, so does my inward consolation. A sermon of mine is now being printed, which will disturb the pleasure of preferment-loving clergy, more than ever. Mr. Wesley has not yet received your letter. He will readily correspond with you. He fights the Lord's battles, as doth his brother, most courageously. A noble reformation is begun among Kingswood colliers, near Bristol. I am now collecting money for building them a school-house. My tenderest affections await all the Associate Presbytery.[232] I am opposed for owning you; but to deny our Lord's disciples, in my opinion, is denying Christ Himself. Providence detains me here. Pray write, by next post, to, rev. and dear sir, yours most affectionately in the bowels of Christ,

"George Whitefield."[233]

Mr. Erskine's reply was of enormous length, filling ten printed octavo pages. Brief extracts from it must suffice here.

"Dunfermline, August 21, 1739.

"Reverend and very dear Sir,—I have now read your journals and sermons, and I can assure you, with reference to the whole work in general, and the main scope of it, my soul has been made to magnify the Lord for the very great things He has done for you and by you. If I speak of any things wherein we differ, it shall only be to shew the greatness of my love to you, and also to prevent after mistakes."

Erskine then proceeds to express a hope that there will be "a happy union in the Lord" between the Oxford Methodists and the Associate Presbytery, "not only in a private and personal, but even in a more public and general way." He affirms, truly enough, that "England's reformation from Popery, and its superstitious and ceremonial services, however great and glorious, was far from being so full as that of Scotland;" and he trusts, that "when a new and general reformation shall be set on foot, more of the rags of the Romish Church will be dropped, such as many useless rites and customs relating to worship, which have no scriptural foundation."

Erskine next criticises Whitefield's Journal. In reference to his fellowship with Quakers, the Scotch Reformer says: "Whatever duties of love you perform towards these men, I will never believe you mean or intend to justify their principles and delusive notions."

On the subject of secession, Erskine writes:—

"You say that so long as the Articles of the Church of England are agreeable to Scripture, you resolve to preach them up, without either bigotry or party zeal. This is the case with us. We preach up and defend, doctrinally and judicially, those Articles of the Church of Scotland, agreeable to the Scriptures, which the judicatories are letting go. Hence, I conclude, you are just of our mind, as to separation from an established Church. We never declared a secession from the Church of Scotland, but only a secession from the judicatories, in their course of defection from the primitive and covenanted constitution, to which we stood bound by our ordination engagements."

Whitefield's sermons are next examined, and objectionable sentiments and sentences pointed out. Erskine concludes his long letter thus:—

"I see much of the glory and majesty of God, and many of the stately steps and goings of our mighty king Jesus, in your sermons and journals; and have, with tears of joy, adored His name for what He is doing for you and by you. When I consider how you and your brethren are stirred up of God to such a remarkable way of witnessing for Him in England, against the corruptions and defections of that Church; and when we of the Associate Presbytery have been called forth in a judicial way to witness against the corruptions and defections of the Church of Scotland; and both at a juncture, when Popish powers are combining together against us, and desolating judgments are justly threatened from heaven, there is, perhaps, more in the womb of Providence relating to our several situations, and successes therein, than we are aware of. What He doth we know not now, but we may know hereafter.

"We have lately been attending several sacramental solemnities in our brethren's congregations, where vast multitudes of people were assembled at the tents without doors, as well as in the church; and I never found more of the presence of God than on some of these occasions. The Spirit of God was sometimes remarkably poured out. Enemies gnash with their teeth, but the Lord carries on His work. My brethren salute you most affectionately. They love and respect you in the Lord. I salute the worthy Sewards and Wesleys in the Lord.

"I am, rev. and dear sir, yours most affectionately in our blessed Immanuel,

"Ralph Erskine."[234]

To return to Whitefield's Journal. He writes:—

"Monday, July 23. Preached this evening at Hackney Marsh, to about two thousand people. I prayed and discoursed for above two hours, and with greater demonstration of the Spirit than ever. Every day have I more and more reason to rejoice in what God has done for my own and others' souls. Thousands at the great day will have reason to bless God for field-preaching.

"Tuesday, July 24. Despatched my private affairs, and preached in the evening at Kennington Common, to about fifteen thousand.

"Wednesday, July 25. Preached this evening at Edmonton. The congregation was large and attentive, and I rejoiced in having an opportunity of offering salvation freely to the rich.

"Thursday, July 26. Preached to upwards of ten thousand at Hackney Marsh, in a field where was to be a horse-race. I had the opportunity of bearing my testimony against such unchristian entertainments. Very few left the sermon to see the race, and some of those soon returned. By the help of God, I will still go on to attack the devil in his strongest holds. The common people go to these diversions for want of knowing better.

"Friday, July 27. Preached at Kennington Common, to my usual number of hearers. Went to Lewisham.

"Saturday, July 28. Visited the family of Justice Delamotte at Blendon, where we exhorted and built up each other in the knowledge and fear of God. Preached at Blackheath in the evening, and came home rejoicing.

"Sunday, July 29. Preached this morning in Moorfields, to a much larger congregation than we had last Sunday,[235] and collected £24 9s.[236] for the school at Kingswood. Received the sacrament at St. Paul's, and preached at Kennington Common in the evening, where £20 was collected. God sent us a little rain, but that only washed away the curious hearers. Nearly thirty thousand stood their ground.

"Monday, July 30. Was busied all the morning in directing those to believe in Jesus Christ, who came asking me what they should do to be saved? Preached at Plaistow. An uncommon power was in the congregation.

"Tuesday, July 31. Preached at Newington, near Hackney, to about twenty thousand people.

"Wednesday, August 1. Preached this evening at Marylebone Fields, to near thirty thousand, and went afterwards to take my leave of Fetter Lane Society. We parted in love.

"Thursday, August 2. Preached at Newington, to upwards of twenty thousand people, and came home rejoicing to see what a great work God has done in this city.

"Friday, August 3. Spent the day in completing my affairs and taking leave of my dear friends. Preached in the evening, to near twenty thousand, at Kennington Common. I chose to discourse on St. Paul's parting speech to the elders at Ephesus, and concluded with a suitable hymn; but could scarce get to the coach, for the people's thronging me, to take me by the hand, and give me a parting blessing.

"Saturday, August 4. Went in the morning to Deptford; prayed, sung psalms, and gave a word of exhortation at two or three houses. Preached at Blackheath, to about ten thousand, and went to Blendon.

"Sunday, August 5. Expounded, prayed, and sung psalms at Mr. Delamotte's door, with many who came last night from London. Read prayers and assisted in administering the sacrament to several hundred communicants in Bexley Church. Preached in the afternoon, to about fifteen hundred, in Justice Delamotte's yard; and again in the evening, to about twenty thousand, at Blackheath.