Volume 2 — EIGHT YEARS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. 1755 TO 1763. (continued 2)

“I thank you cordially for your generous benefactions to the German schools. They go on pretty well; and will do better, when Mr. Smith, who has at present the principal charge of them, shall learn to mind party-writing and party-politics less, and his proper business more; which, I hope, time will bring about.

“I thank you for your good wishes and prayers; and am, with the greatest esteem and affection, dear sir, your most obedient humble servant,

“Benjamin Franklin.

“My best respects to Mrs. Whitefield.”404

As is well known, this remarkable man wound up the drama of his eventful life, not by founding a new English colony on the Ohio, but by assisting to wrest the colonies which England already had, from English government, and by becoming the plenipotentiary of the rebellious provinces to the court of France!

After his return from Bristol, on July 9, Whitefield, with the exception of a run to Kent, employed nearly the next three weeks in London. Hence the following letters, the first to the Countess of Huntingdon, the second to his housekeeper at Bethesda:—

“London, July 17, 1756.

“Ever-honoured Madam,—Your kind letter found me just returned from Bristol, and just setting out for Maidstone and Chatham, where I have been to preach the gospel, and to visit a poor murderer.405 I hope my labours were not altogether vain in the Lord. I am now preparing for my northern expedition. My motions must be very quick, because I would hasten to Scotland as fast as possible, to have more time at my return. Eternity! Eternity! O how I do long for thee! But, alas, how often must we be like pelicans in the wilderness, before we arrive there! Solitariness prepares for the social life, and the social life for solitariness again. Jesus alone is the centre of peace and comfort in either situation. Springs fail; the Fountain never can, nor will.”

“Islington, July 27, 1756.

“Pray lessen the family as much as possible. I wish I had none in the house but proper orphans. The plantation would then suffice for its support, and debts be paid; but we must buy our experience. Troubles seem to beset us here; but we are all secure in God. His gospel flourishes in London. I am just returned from preaching it at Sheerness, Chatham, and in the camp. This afternoon or to-morrow I set off for Scotland.”

Whitefield arrived at Leeds on Sunday evening, August 1. The account of his labours during the next fortnight is contained in the following letter:—

“Sunderland, August 14, 1756.

“It is now a fortnight since I came to Leeds. On the Sunday evening, a few hours after my arrival, many thousands were gathered in the fields, to whom Jesus enabled me to speak with some degree of power. The following week, I preached, in and about Leeds, thrice almost every day, to thronged and affected auditories. On Sunday last, at seven in the morning, the congregation consisted of about ten thousand; at noon and in the evening, at Birstal, of near double the number. Though hoarse, the Redeemer helped me to speak, so that all heard. It was a high day. In the evening, several hundred of us rode about eight miles, singing and praising God. The next morning, I took a sorrowful leave of Leeds, preached at Tadcaster406 at noon, and at York in the evening. God was with us. On Tuesday, I preached twice at York. Delightful seasons. On Wednesday, at Warstall, about fifty miles off; on Thursday, twice at Yarm; and last night and this morning here. After spending my Sabbath here, and visiting Shields,407 Newcastle, and some adjacent places, I purpose to go on to Scotland.”

The Sunday spent at Bradford and Birstal was a day never to be forgotten; and the singing cavalcade, at the end of it, has hardly ever been equalled. Among the thousands then assembled, was a boy, sixteen years of age, upon whom Whitefield’s sermons had a powerful and permanent effect. They led to his conversion; and the youth, then an apprentice, became the well-known Rev. John Fawcett, D.D., for fifty-four years, one of the most faithful preachers among the West Yorkshire mountains. After hearing Whitefield at Bradford, early in the morning, young Fawcett trudged ten or a dozen miles to Birstal, where Whitefield stood on a platform, at the foot of a hill near the town, and, on the slopes of the hill, had twenty thousand people grouped before him, “thousands of whom, during the delivery of his two sermons, vented their emotions by tears and groans. Fools who came to mock, began to pray.”408

One of the places “about Leeds,” at which Whitefield preached, was Haworth, where a scaffold was erected in the churchyard, and he took for his text, “Turn you to the stronghold, ye prisoners of hope” (Zech. ix. 12). Here, again, there was a young Yorkshireman who never forgot that memorable season. Samuel Whitaker wrote: “I got among the crowd nearly under the scaffold, and it was the most affecting time I ever experienced. Mr. Whitefield spoke as if he had been privy to all my thoughts, words, and actions, from the tenth year of my age. The day following, I heard him at Leeds; and the day after that, at Bradford.” Twelve months subsequent to this, Samuel Whitaker became a member of Wesley’s Society; for many years was a class-leader and local-preacher at Keighley; and, exactly sixty years after first hearing Whitefield at Haworth, tranquilly expired, in the eighty-second year of his age.409

Whitefield has left no account of his labours in Scotland; but the following particulars, taken from the Scots’ Magazine for 1756, will partly fill up the gap.

He arrived at Edinburgh, on Friday, August 20, where he remained for the next three weeks, and “preached every day, morning and evening, in the Orphan Hospital Park, to very numerous audiences” (p. 414).

On Friday, September 10, he went to Glasgow, where he preached the same evening, twice on Saturday, and four times on Sunday, September 12, to large congregations.

Six days afterwards, he returned to Edinburgh; and, as the new governor of Georgia desired to converse with him, before embarking for the colony, Whitefield started for England, on Wednesday, September 22.410

The Scots’ Magazine proceeds to say: “Before Mr. Whitefield set out for Glasgow, the managers of the Orphan Hospital made him a present of fifty guineas to defray his travelling charges; but he returned ten guineas, saying that forty guineas were sufficient to defray the charges, and likewise to pay upwards of £14, which he had laid out here for coarse linen to be sent to his Orphan House in Georgia. For accommodating the audience, when he preached, the managers had erected seats in the park; and, though only a halfpenny each was asked from the hearers for their seats, the money thence arising, and the collections at the park gates, amounted to upwards of £188 sterling; so that the hospital has about £120 clear gain, over and above the expense of the seats, and the present made to Mr. Whitefield.”

The magazine relates further, that “scarcity at home” had induced a greater number of Highlanders than usual to come to Edinburgh for “harvest work.” The harvest, however, was not ready. They had nothing to live upon. “Contributions were set on foot, to give them two meals a day at the poorhouse; and, on the evening of September 21, after a sermon suitable to the occasion by Mr. Whitefield, a collection was made for them, in the Orphan Hospital Park, which amounted to £60 11s. 4d. sterling, of which half a guinea was given by Mr. Whitefield himself” (p. 465).

To these items of intelligence may be added the following from the Edinburgh Courant: “During his stay, Mr. Whitefield preached, morning and evening, in the Orphan Hospital Park, not excepting the evening of the day on which he arrived, or the morning of that on which he departed. As he was frequently very explicit in opening the miseries of popish tyranny and arbitrary power, and very warm in exhorting his hearers to loyalty and courage at home, and in stirring them up to pray for the success of his Majesty’s forces, we have reason to believe that his visit, at this juncture, has been particularly useful.”

In 1756, a considerable number of Wesley’s preachers and Societies were strongly inclined to declare themselves Dissenters. Charles Wesley was excessively annoyed; and, as soon as his brother’s annual conference was ended, he set out to entreat the Methodists “to continue steadfast in the communion of the Church of England.” Throughout life, Whitefield was a peace-maker, and, on his return from Scotland, he rendered service for which Charles Wesley was profoundly thankful. Under the date of Friday, October 8, Charles wrote:—

“Returning to Leeds, I met my brother Whitefield, and was much refreshed by the account of his abundant labours. I waited on him in our Room, and gladly sat under his word.”

Again: “Sunday, October 10. At Birstal, my congregation was less by a thousand or two, through George Whitefield preaching to-day at Haworth.”

“Monday, October 11. Hearing Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Grimshaw were returning to our watch-night, I waited for them at their lodgings, with zealous, humble, loving Mr. Crook. It rained so hard, that Mr. Whitefield was agreeably surprised, at eight, to find our House as full as it could cram. They forced me to preach first; which I did from Zech. xiii.: ‘The third part I will bring through the fire.’ My brother George seconded me in the words of our Lord: ‘I say unto all, Watch.’ The prayers and hymns were all attended with a solemn power. Few, if any, went unawakened away.”

“Manchester, Monday, October 25. Here I rejoiced to hear of the great good Mr. Whitefield has done in our Societies. He preached as universally as my brother. He warned them everywhere against apostacy; and strongly insisted on the necessity of holiness after justification, illustrating it with this comparison: ‘What good will the king’s pardon do a poor malefactor dying of a fever? So, notwithstanding you have received forgiveness, unless the disease of your nature be healed by holiness, ye can never be saved.’ He beat down the separating spirit, highly commended the prayers and services of our Church, charged our people to meet their bands and classes constantly, and never to leave the Methodists, or God would leave them. In a word, he did his utmost to strengthen our hands, and deserves the thanks of all the churches, for his abundant labour of love.”411

The author of “The Life and Times of the Countess of Huntingdon” states, that, in his itinerancy through Lancashire, Whitefield was accompanied by the Revs. Messrs. Grimshaw, Ingham, and Milner, and that, among other places, they visited Manchester, Stockport, and Chinley.412 From an old manuscript ‘History of Methodism in Leigh,’ it appears, that Whitefield also visited Shackerley, where, at that time, a large number of Unitarians were located, the disciples of Dr. Taylor, the divinity tutor of the Unitarian Academy at Warrington. The writer relates, that, Whitefield preached on Shackerley Common, and that a man, a mile distant, leaning upon a gate, distinctly heard many of his sentences, was convinced of sin, and soon converted.

Whitefield’s own account of his labours in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, is extremely meagre. On his return to London, from what he calls his “thousand miles’ northern circuit,”413 he wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon, as follows:—

“London, October 27, 1756.

“I wrote you a few lines, not long ago, from Leeds. Since then, I have been in honest Mr. Grimshaw’s and Mr. Ingham’s rounds, preaching upon the mountains to many thousands. One, who was awakened three years ago, is gone to heaven, and desired to be buried in the spot where she was converted. The sacrament at Mr. Grimshaw’s was awful; and the watch-night at Leeds exceeding solemn. I would have continued my circuit, but I found that preaching so frequently in those cold districts was bringing on my last year’s disorder. Being, therefore, grown very prudent, I am come to open our new chapel in Tottenham Court Road. Lord, what am I, that Thou shouldest suffer me to put a pin in Thy tabernacle! Never did I know the fields more ready unto harvest, than I have seen them in the north.”

Builders, in former days, were more expeditious than at present. Whitefield’s chapel was neither a small nor a flimsy structure, and yet, only half a year after its commencement, it was ready for being opened!

Whitefield was now in his “winter quarters,” where he remained for the next six months;—an unusually long period for him to spend in London. The following extracts from his letters will, it is hoped, interest the reader:—

“London, November 17, 1756. At Tottenham Court chapel, we have had some glorious earnests of future blessings. My constant work now is preaching about fifteen times a week. This, with a weak appetite, want of rest, and much care lying upon my mind, enfeebles me. But the joy of the Lord is my strength; and my greatest grief is, that I can do no more for Him, who has done and suffered so much for me.”

The Rev. Henry Venn was now one of the most active clergymen of the Church of England. Besides being curate of Clapham, he held three lectureships in the city. His regular duties consisted of a full service at Clapham on the Sunday morning; a sermon, in the afternoon, at St. Alban’s, Wood Street; and another, in the evening, at St. Swithin’s, London-stone. On Tuesday morning, a sermon at St. Swithin’s; on Wednesday morning, at seven o’clock, at St. Antholin’s; and, on Thursday evening, at Clapham.414 Whitefield had become acquainted with him, and wrote to Hervey, at Weston-Favel, as follows:—

“London, December 9, 1756. I hope that my dear friend prospers both in soul and body. Conviction and conversion work goes on here. Lord, keep us from tares! All is well at Clapham. I have expounded there twice. God has met with us in our new building.”

To the Rev. Aaron Burr, the President of New Jersey College, for whom he had done his best to obtain a D.D. degree from the Edinburgh University, Whitefield wrote:—

“London, December 9, 1756. Night and day, our hands are lifted up for dear America; but, I fear, we are to be brought into far greater extremity, both at home and abroad, ere deliverance comes. I am sorry you have not your degree. It is ready, if testimonials were sent from those who know you. This not being done, it looks as though the character given you on this side the water was not justly founded. I wish you would write oftener. How glad would I be to see America, but my way is hedged up. The awakening both in town and country continues. More ministers are coming out to preach the gospel. I am strengthened to preach fourteen times a week, and I trust it is not in vain.”

“London, December 15, 1756. Last Sunday, in the new chapel, there was a wonderful stirring among the dry bones. Some great people came, and begged they might have a constant seat: an earnest this, I believe, of more good things to come.”

“London, December 30, 1756. God is doing wonders in the new chapel. Hundreds went away last Sunday morning, who could not come in. On Christmas Day, and last Tuesday night (the first time of burning candles), the power of the Lord was present, both to wound and to heal. A neighbouring doctor has baptized the place, calling it ‘Whitefield’s Soul-Trap.’ I pray that it may be a soul-trap indeed, to many wandering sinners. Abundance of people round about, I hear, are much struck. O for humility! O for gratitude! O for faith! Wherefore should I doubt? Surely Jesus will carry me through, and help me to pay the workmen.”

In such a spirit, Whitefield ended another year of his eventful life. He was now attracting to his meeting-house some of the “great people” of the western parts of the metropolis; and, yet, his preaching was as faithful as ever. Let the following serve as a specimen:—

“Woe unto you, who are at ease in Zion, and, instead of staying to be tempted by the devil, by idleness, self-indulgence, and making continual provision for the flesh even tempt the devil to tempt you! Woe unto you, who, not content with sinning yourselves, turn factors for hell, and make a trade of tempting others to sin! Woe unto you, who either deny Divine revelation, or never use it, but to serve a bad turn! Woe unto you, who sell your consciences, and pawn your souls, for a little worldly wealth or honour! Woe unto you, who climb up to high places, in Church or State, by corruption, bribery, extortion, cringing, flattery, or bowing down to, and soothing the vices of those by whom you expect to rise! Woe unto you! for, whether you will own the relation or not, you are of your father the devil; for the works of your father you do. I tremble for you. How can you escape the damnation of hell?”415

Such preaching was needed in the days of Whitefield, and it is equally needed now. For lack of it, thousands, even in churches and chapels, are dreaming elysian dreams, while in the utmost danger of perishing.

In more respects than one, the year 1756 was a year of turmoil; but the Methodists were not without their friends. One pamphlet, published during the year, undesignedly in Whitefield’s favour, had the following inordinately long title: “The Great Secret Disclosed; or an Infallible Salve for Opening the Eyes of all such as the God of this World has Blinded; by once applying which, the Person will be able to see the true cause why Religion decays amongst us, and why Methodism started up, and daily increases; and, with it, all that train of Vice and Immorality so common to be met with in every corner of the Nation; with an effectual method for bringing about a Reformation by destroying Methodism.” (8vo. 52 pp.)

The title shews that the pamphlet was not intended to promote the interests of Methodism. Like Balaam, the writer purposed to curse his enemies, and, yet, he blessed them. Two extracts must suffice.

“It is generally reported that Mr. Whitefield has a hundred thousand followers, most of whom, before his preaching, were the vilest of mankind, but are now sober and religious persons, good members of society, and good subjects of the king. It is also said that Mr. Wesley’s preaching has had as good an effect on the like numbers; most of whom have been brought to be members of the Church of England; namely, to baptize their children, and to receive the sacrament there: for, as he and his brother preach only betimes in a morning and in the evening, and order their followers to go, the other parts of the day, to their respective places of worship; and, as most of them went to no place of worship before, and as such always looked upon themselves as Church people, they go, forenoon and afternoon, to its services. Thus, instead of weakening the Church, by taking members from it, the Methodists have strengthened it, by adding thousands of members to it; for the Methodists, properly speaking, are no Church, having no ordinances administered among them.416

“Mr. Whitefield seems to have been the first whom the clergy of a whole nation agreed to prevent preaching, without ever proving that he had broken either the ecclesiastical, moral, or national law. His chief crime was that he appeared to be in earnest both in reading prayers and preaching.”

The author’s “effectual method” to destroy Methodism was: 1. That the clergy should “treat the Methodists as Church members, and not molest them in performing the duties of religion;” and, 2. They should “out-pray and preach them.”

Another pamphlet, of the same Balaam-like character, was published in 1756, with the title, “Methodism Displayed, and Enthusiasm Detected; intended as an Antidote against, and a Preservative from, the delusive Principles and unscriptural Doctrines of a Modern Sett of seducing Preachers; and as a Defence of our Regular and Orthodox Clergy, from their unjust Reflections.” (8vo. 36 pp.)

This was an enigmatical production. After giving to the “Modern Sett of seducing Preachers” a number of hard names, the author writes as follows:—

“If for a steady adherence and firm attachment to the doctrines of the Church of England I am accounted a Methodist, I am content. May I live and die a Church of England Methodist! A Methodist! Why, really it is a simple and inoffensive name, and I do not see much reason to be ashamed of it. The world does not usually fix this apellation upon persons of an openly wicked and scandalously sinful life. A gaming, pleasure-taking, playhouse-frequenting person, who lives in debauchery and excess of drinking, is sure to escape the name of Methodist. Nor has a minister that name given him, who, notwithstanding his solemn declarations, subscriptions, and oaths to assent to and to abide by the Articles of our Church, preaches contrary to them,—denies the fall of man,—original sin,—contends for justification by works, instead of by faith,—is an enemy to the doctrine of imputed righteousness,—from whose sermons you seldom hear the name of Jesus, or the agency and influence of the Holy Spirit, unless utterly to deny, inveigh against, and explode all spiritual inspiration and inward feelings: these and such-like preachers escape from the imputation of Methodism. So, again, that decent, regular person, who, freed from the irksome care of souls, comfortably lolls in his chariot, thinks it is time for him to have done with praying and preaching, and, therefore, has left off trade, and is content with a bare £1000 per annum Church preferment; he, who loves the Church, rails at your popular, mob-driving preachers, and is sure they would not take half the pains they do, if views of money-getting were not at the bottom,—this sort of gentleman stands very clear of being deemed a Methodist.”

Another extract must be given. The picture it draws was not a caricature.

“Take knowledge of that thing. He is parson of St――’s church. Lest the people should be seduced and deceived by hearing the doctrines of the Church of England preached, he denies these true ministers417 the pulpit, and says they are Enthusiasts; and the people, as ignorant as himself, join the cry. An enthusiast! What is that? Oh, ’tis the cant word of the day for the many-headed monster, the bugbear of the times. ‘Ah,’ says a constant church-goer, ‘I heard one of those preachers at our church. He preached such a sermon! It was almost an hour long, and he said downright, that all unconverted people were in a state of damnation, and would go to hell, if they did not believe on the Lord Jesus! Truly, he set the parish in an uproar, for we are not used to such sort of preaching. Thank God for a good parson, say I; for the Sunday after our parson (God bless him!) preached a sermon against such doctrine; and, though he was no longer than a quarter of an hour, he made us all easy again. He told us we were in no danger of going to hell, and that there was no fear of our being damned, for we were all good Christians, if we paid every one their own, and did as we would be done by.’”

Whitefield began the year 1757 with mingled feelings. He rejoiced because of the prosperity of the work of God; he was distressed by political and Church contentions; and he was full of care respecting his distant Orphan House. Hence the following selections from his letters:—

“London, January 12, 1757.

“A wide door seems to be opening at Tottenham Court chapel. The word flies like lightning in it. O that it may prove a Bethel—a house of God—a gate of heaven! I believe it will. As the awakening continues, I have some hopes that we are not to be given up. Alas! alas! we are testing and contesting, while the nation is bleeding to death. We are condemning this and that; but sin, the great mischief-maker, lies unmolested, or rather encouraged by every party.”

To his housekeeper at Bethesda, Whitefield wrote:—

“London, February 5, 1757.

“Tottenham Court chapel is made a Bethel, and the awakening increases every day. O that it were so in Georgia! Surely the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls will bless you, for taking care of the lambs in that distant wilderness. Mr. P.’s leaving Bethesda sadly distresses me. I desire that all, who are capable, may be put out, and the family reduced as low as possible, till the war is over, and the institution out of debt. Lord, remember me and all my various concerns! God bless and direct you in every step! He will, He will. What is to become of us here, God only knows. A year perhaps may determine. The best sign is, that the awakening continues.”

Four years ago, Whitefield had published his pamphlet against Zinzendorf and the Moravians. Things since then had altered for the better. Hence the following:—

“London, February 17, 1757.

“O to be an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile! Simplicity and godly sincerity are all in all. A want of this, I fear, has led the Count into all his mistakes. With great regret, I speak or write of any people’s weaknesses; but I thought Divine Providence called me to publish what you mention. The Redeemer gave it His blessing. I do not find that their fopperies are continued, and I hear also that they have discharged many debts.”

At this period, one of the most popular of the metropolitan actors was a young man of twenty-seven—Edward Shuter, born in a cellar adjoining Covent Garden—“the offspring of a chairman on the one side, and of an oyster-woman on the other.” He had been a marker at a billiard table, and a tapster at a public-house. He had joined a company of strolling players, among whom, by his drolleries and good nature, he soon acquired the appellation of Comical Ned. At length, Garrick engaged him at Drury Lane. “He was so thoroughly acquainted,” says a critical authority, “with the vis comica, that he seldom called in those common auxiliaries, grimace and buffoonery, but rested entirely on genuine humour. He had strong features, and a peculiar turn of face, which, without any natural deformity, he threw into the most ridiculous shapes.” His facetiousness was irresistible. Being in disgrace, on one occasion, for some irregularity in his performance, the audience demanded an apology, and vehemently called for him, after he had made his exit. At the time they were vociferating “Shuter! Shuter!” an actress happened to be the only person on the stage, when Shuter, poking out his comical face, from behind one of the scenes, called out, “Don’t shoot her!” which restored the good temper of the spectators for the rest of the evening.

It is a strange fact, that, this remarkable man—“the greatest comic genius I ever saw,” said Garrick418—was now one of Whitefield’s constant hearers. Hence the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:—

“London, March 2, 1757.

“Not many mighty, not many noble, are called; but some come to hear at Tottenham Court. Shuter, the player, always makes one of the auditory, and, as I hear, is much impressed, and brings others with him.”

The good Countess, from this, was led to take an interest in Shuter’s welfare. In a letter, to Lady Fanny Shirley, she says:—

“I have had a visit from Shuter, the comedian, whom I saw in the street, and asked to call on me. He was wonderfully astonished when I announced my name. We had much conversation; but he cannot give up his profession for another more reputable. He spoke of Mr. Whitefield with great affection, and with admiration of his talents. He promised to come some other time, when he had more leisure for conversation. Poor fellow! I think he is not far from the kingdom.”419

It is related that on one occasion, when Shuter was in the height of his reputation, as the representative of “Ramble,” and while he was seated in a pew exactly in front of the pulpit of Tottenham Court chapel, Whitefield was inviting sinners to the Saviour, with his accustomed earnestness, and, at the moment, caught Shuter’s eye, and exclaimed, “And thou, poor Ramble, who hast long rambled from Him, come thou also. Oh, end thy ramblings by coming to Jesus!”420 This, certainly, was more personal than polite; but poor Shuter bore it. Long after, when his friends used to rate him as a Methodist, he would say, “A precious method is mine! No, I wish I were; for if any be right, the Methodists are.”421

On Monday, April 25, Whitefield set out for Scotland. Sixteen days afterwards, he arrived in Edinburgh, where he at once commenced preaching in his old open-air cathedral, the Orphan Hospital Park, and, for nearly a month, preached twice a day, morning and evening, “to very numerous audiences.”422

In all respects, this was a memorable visit. A week after Whitefield’s arrival, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland met at Edinburgh, Charles, the ninth Baron of Cathcart, being his Majesty’s commissioner,—“a nobleman no less distinguished for the virtues which adorn private life, than he was eminent for all those which exalt a public character. In the capacity of father, husband, and friend, his lordship had few equals, and was exceeded by none in discharging, with dignity and ability, the duties of the high stations in which he had been placed by his sovereign.”423 The Rev. William Leechman, D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow, was chosen moderator. Leechman was a celebrated preacher, a popular lecturer, “a man,” says Sir Henry Moncreiff, “of primitive and apostolic manners, equally distinguished by his love of literature and his liberal opinions.”424 The sessions of the Assembly were continued from the 19th to the 30th of May, and Whitefield attended every one of them. “On Saturday, the 28th, he dined, by invitation, with the commissioner, (though not at the same table,) and said grace after dinner.”425 Much important business was transacted. A committee was appointed “to consider the laws relating to the election and qualifications of members of Assembly.” An act of the Synod of Argyle, “that the use of sermons on the Saturday before, and Monday after, dispensing the sacrament of the Lord’s supper, be discontinued in all time coming,” occasioned a long debate, but was ultimately approved. A minister was arraigned for attending a theatre. A second minister, accused of the same offence, pleaded “that he had gone to the playhouse only once, and endeavoured to conceal himself in a corner.” Lengthened discussions followed, and a resolution was passed, “earnestly recommending the several Presbyteries to take care that none of their ministers do, upon any account, attend the theatre.” Another resolution was approved, forbidding “simoniacal practices.” Several cases of “double presentation” to livings had to be decided. A scandal respecting the Rev. William Brown occupied considerable time; but the result was, the Assembly “assoilzied Mr. Brown.” Appeals and petitions from ministers were heard, and resolutions were passed respecting the fund for ministers’ widows, and “anent ministers making agreements with their heritors concerning the extent of their stipends.”

Listening to learned and long debates on these and kindred subjects was Whitefield’s daily recreation between his morning and evening preachings.

On June 6, he set out for Glasgow, where he continued several days.426 An extract from the Scots’ Magazine for 1757, page 322, may be welcome:—

“In a letter from Glasgow, of June 19, we have the following account: ‘On Monday last, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, at the desire of several of our magistrates, preached a sermon for the benefit of the poor of this city, from Mark vi. 34. At the conclusion of his discourse, he pressed the charity with many solid arguments. A number of the magistrates and elders stood up to collect at the outside of the congregation; who went away with regularity, and gave their contributions very cheerfully. The whole amounted to £58 sterling, which is all to be applied to the relief of our poor. After the sermon, the magistrates waited on Mr. Whitefield, and thanked him for this good office, which has given great and general satisfaction.’”

At Whitefield’s farewell sermon in the Orphan Hospital Park, Edinburgh, there was a young Scotchman present, who afterwards became one of Wesley’s most faithful and sturdy itinerants. Thomas Rankin, born at Dunbar, was now resident at Leith, and came to Edinburgh to hear the great preacher. He writes:—

“I had often before had thoughts of hearing Mr. Whitefield; but so many things had been said to me of him, that I was afraid I should be deceived. He preached in the field adjoining the Orphan House yard. His text was Isaiah xxxiii. 13–17. The sermon exceeded all the sermons I ever heard. About the middle of it, I ventured to look up, and saw all the crowds around Mr. Whitefield bathed in tears. I listened with wonder and surprise, and had such a discovery of the plan of salvation as I had never known before. I was astonished at myself that I had listened to the idle tales concerning him, and thereby have been kept from hearing a burning and shining light, who had been instrumental in the hand of God for the good of so many thousands of souls. When I understood he was about to leave Edinburgh, I was distressed. I remembered more of that sermon than of all the sermons I had ever heard. I had a discovery of the unsearchable riches of the grace of God in Christ Jesus; as also of how a lost sinner was to come to God, and obtain mercy through the Redeemer. From this time, I was truly convinced of the necessity of a change of heart.”427

As already stated, Thomas Rankin became one of Wesley’s most valuable preachers. His labours, both in England and in America, were of great importance; and, if no other end had been accomplished by Whitefield’s present visit to the Scotch metropolis, the conversion of Rankin was an ample compensation for all his toil and travelling.

Whitefield’s account of his visit is brief and imperfect. He writes on May 31st: “Attendance upon the Assembly, and preaching, have engrossed all my time.” In another letter, dated Glasgow, June 9, 1757, he remarks:—

“At Edinburgh, I was so taken up all day, and kept up so late at night, that writing was almost impracticable. Surely, my going thither was of God. I came there on the 12th of May, and left the 6th of June, and preached just fifty times. To what purpose, the great day will discover. I have reason to believe to very good purpose. Being the time of the General Assembly, (at which I was much pleased,) many ministers attended, perhaps a hundred at a time. Thereby prejudices were removed, and many of their hearts were deeply impressed. About thirty of them, as a token of respect, invited me to a public entertainment. The Lord High Commissioner also invited me to his table; and many persons of credit and religion did the same in a public manner. Thousands and thousands, among whom were a great many of the best rank, daily attended on the word preached; and the longer I stayed, the more the congregations and Divine influence increased. Twice I preached in my way to Glasgow; and, last night, opened my campaign here. The cloud seems to move towards Ireland. How the Redeemer vouchsafes to deal with me there, you shall know hereafter.”

Whitefield’s previous visit to Ireland had been greatly blessed. The people longed to give him another welcome. One section of his converts had laid the foundation of a prosperous Moravian church. Another had formed a Baptist congregation. A number of others were scattered, and needed encouragement.428 He went to help them, and his visit was memorable. To the day of his death, a deep scar in his head was a memento of it.429 He shall tell his own story.

“Dublin, June 30, 1757.

“The door is open, and indeed the poor Methodists want help. Here, in Dublin, the congregations are very large, and very much impressed. The Redeemer vouchsafes to me great freedom in preaching, and arrows of conviction fly and fasten. One of the bishops told a nobleman, he was glad I was come to rouse the people. The nobleman himself told me this yesterday. Alas! that so few have the ambition of coming out to the help of the Lord against the mighty. Not one clergyman, in all Ireland, is as yet stirred up to come out singularly for God. Pity, Lord, for Thy mercy’s sake! I think God will yet appear for the Protestant interest. My route now is to Athlone, Limerick, and Cork; and to return here about July 21st.”

“Dublin, July 3, 1757.

“The infinitely condescending Jesus still vouchsafes to follow the chief of sinners with His unmerited blessing. In Scotland, His almighty arm was most powerfully revealed; and here, in Dublin, many have begun to say, ‘What shall we do to be saved?’ Congregations are large, and very much impressed. All sorts attend, and all sorts seem to be affected. I should be glad to come to London, but cannot in conscience as yet. Not one minister, either in the Church or among the Dissenters, in this kingdom, as far as I can hear, appears boldly for God. To-morrow, therefore, I purpose to set out for Athlone, Limerick, and Cork. God only knows where, after that, will be the next remove. Perhaps to London; perhaps to the north of Ireland, which, I hear, lies open for the gospel. Winter must be the London harvest. O for more labourers, who will account the work itself the best wages!

“July 5. Since writing the above, I have been in the wars; but, blessed be God, am pretty well recovered, and going on my way rejoicing. Pray hard.”

“July 9, 1757.

“You have heard of my being in Ireland, and of my preaching to large and affected auditories in Mr. Wesley’s spacious room. When here last, I preached in a more confined place on the week-days, and once or twice ventured out to Oxmanton Green, a large place like Moorfields, situated very near the barracks, where the Ormond430 and Liberty (that is, high and low party) Boys generally assemble every Sunday, to fight with each other. The congregations then were very numerous, the word seemed to come with power, and no noise or disturbance ensued. This encouraged me to give notice, that I would preach there again last Sunday afternoon.

“I went through the barracks, the door of which opens into the Green, and pitched my tent near the barrack walls, not doubting of the protection, or at least interposition, of the officers and soldiery, if there should be occasion. But how vain is the help of man! Vast was the multitude that attended. We sang, prayed, and preached, without much molestation; only, now and then, a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at me. It being war time, I exhorted my hearers, as is my usual practice, not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings; and, after the sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms.431

“All being over, I thought to return home the way I came; but, to my great surprise, access to the barracks was denied, so that I had to go near half a mile, from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, etc. Finding me unattended, (for a soldier and four Methodist preachers,432 who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their mercy. Their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty. Vollies of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step I took, a fresh stone struck, and made me reel backwards and forwards, till I was almost breathless, and was covered all over with blood. My strong beaver hat served me, as it were, for a skullcap for a while; but, at last, that was knocked off, and my head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large near my temples. Providentially, a minister’s house stood next door to the Green. With great difficulty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to, and shut upon me. Some of the mob, in the meantime, broke part of the boards of the pulpit into splinters, and beat and wounded my servant grievously in his head and arms, and then came and drove him from the door of the house where I had found a refuge.

“For a while, I continued speechless, expecting every breath to be my last. Two or three of my friends, by some means, got admission, and kindly washed my wounds. I gradually revived, but soon found the lady of the house desired my absence, for fear the house should be pulled down. What to do, I knew not, being near two miles from Mr. Wesley’s place. Some advised one thing, and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends who came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off in disguise. I accepted of them, and put them on, but was soon ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper habit, and threw them off in disdain. Immediately, deliverance came. A Methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach; I leaped into it, and rode, in gospel triumph, through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists, unhurt.

“None but those who were spectators of the scene can form an idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping, mourning, but now joyful Methodists. A Christian surgeon was ready to dress my wounds, which being done, I went into the preaching place, and, after giving a word of exhortation, joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him, who makes our extremity His opportunity, and who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people.

“The next morning, I set out for Port Arlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors has often made preachers.”433

The hard knocks Whitefield received from the Dublin papists did not prevent the carrying out of his plan to visit the towns already mentioned. Hence the following:—

“Cork, July 15, 1757.

“Everywhere the glorious Emmanuel so smiles upon my feeble labours, that it is hard to get away from Ireland. At Port-Arlington, Athlone, Limerick, and this place, the word has run and been glorified. Arrows of conviction seem to fly; and the cup of many has been made to run over. I have met with some hard blows from the Dublin rabble; but, blessed be God! they have not destroyed me.”

In another letter, addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow, and dated, “Wednesbury, Staffordshire, August 7, 1757,” he wrote:—

“Though Mr. Hopper promised to write you an historical letter, from Dublin, I cannot help dropping you a few lines from this place. At Athlone, Limerick, Cork, and especially at Dublin, where I preached near fifty times, we had Cambuslang seasons. With the utmost difficulty, I came away. The blows I received were like to send me where all partings would have been over. But, I find, we are immortal till our work is done.”

Whitefield found it difficult to get away; but it is a notable fact that he never went again. This was his last visit to Ireland! He went but twice, and both of his visits put together were not of three months’ continuance. Wesley made twenty visits, most of them of long duration. Ireland’s debt to Whitefield is but small; but to Wesley great.

After an absence of about four months, Whitefield got back to London. One of the first things that claimed his attention was the business of his Orphan House, which had recently been visited by the governor of Georgia. The following was addressed to his housekeeper:—

“London, August 26, 1757.

“I think myself happy, in finding you are satisfied in your present situation. I would rather have you to preside over the orphan family than any woman I know. I do not love changes. Sometimes I wish for wings to fly over; but Providence detains me here.434 I fear a dreadful storm is at hand. Lord Jesus, be Thou our refuge! At Dublin, I was like to be sent beyond the reach of storms. A most blessed influence attended the word in various parts of Ireland; and here, in London, the prospect is more and more promising. As to outward things, all is gloomy. I hope Bethesda will be kept in peace. I am glad the governor has been to visit the house. May God make him a blessing to the colony! I wish you would let me know how the English children are disposed of. I would fain have a list of black and white, from time to time. Blessed be God for the increase of the negroes! I entirely approve of reducing the number of orphans as low as possible; and I am determined to take in no more than the plantation will maintain, till I can buy more negroes. Never was I so well satisfied with my assistants as now.”

Whitefield’s stay in London was short. Accompanied by the Revs. Martin Madan and Henry Venn, he soon set out, on a six weeks’ journey, to the west of England. Extracts from two of his letters will furnish an idea of his spirit and his work.

“Exeter, September 28, 1757.

“Blessed be God! I can send you good news concerning Plymouth. The scene was like that of Bristol, only more extraordinary. Officers, soldiers, sailors, and the dockmen attended, with the utmost solemnity, upon the word preached. Arrows of conviction flew and fastened; and I left all God’s people upon the wing for heaven. Blessed be the Lord Jesus for ordering me the lot of a cast-out! I am glad that Mr. Madan and Mr. Venn returned safe. May an effectual door be opened for both! If so, they will have many adversaries. If the weather should alter, I may be in town before long; if not, I may range farther. This spiritual hunting is delightful sport, when the heart is in the work.”

The next is taken from a letter to the Rev. John Gillies. The “Counsellor” mentioned was Mr. Madan, who, before his ordination, practised at the bar.

“London, October 16, 1757.

“Reverend and very dear Sir,—I thank you for your sympathising letter sent to Ireland. The Friend of sinners stood by me, or I had been stoned to death. Stones were thrown at me, not for speaking against the papists in particular, but, for exciting all ranks to be faithful to King Jesus, and to our dear sovereign King George, for His great name’s sake.

“Seven gospel ministers were together at Bristol, when the Counsellor preached. We have had blessed seasons, for these six weeks last past, at Plymouth, Exeter, Bristol, Gloucester, and Gloucestershire. This comes from my winter quarters.”

Whitefield was again in London, where he continued for seven months.

The “Counsellor,” the Rev. Martin Madan, was now a red-hot evangelist. He had preached through Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Warwickshire, Worcestershire, and Gloucestershire.435 The number of Methodist clergymen was rather rapidly increasing. Besides Whitefield, the Wesleys, Hervey, Grimshaw, Romaine, Madan, Venn, Walker, and others already mentioned in this biography, there were now the Rev. James Stillingfleet, ultimately rector of Hotham, in Yorkshire; the Rev. Mr. Downing, chaplain to the Earl of Dartmouth; and the Rev. William Talbot, LL.D., vicar of Kineton, in Warwickshire, a man of aristocratic family.436 In this year, 1757, not fewer than five of these earnest clergymen, Messrs. Walker, Talbot, Downing, Stillingfleet, and Madan, at the request of Lord Dartmouth,437 had preached at Cheltenham.438 On three or four occasions, Mr. Downing obtained the pulpit of the parish church; but the rector and the churchwardens interposed, and the zealous Methodist was excluded. Lord Dartmouth then opened his own house for preaching, twice a week; and, sometimes, the seminary of Mr. Samuel Wells was used for the same purpose.439 In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, his lordship wrote:—

“I wish your ladyship would use your influence with Mr. Whitfield and Mr. Romaine to pay us a visit. Mr. Stillingfleet has been obliged to return to Oxford, and I know not where to direct to Mr. Madan or Mr. Venn. Mr. Talbot has promised to come as soon as possible; and, next month, I expect good Mr. Walker, of Truro. The rector was so displeased with Mr. Downing preaching, and the great crowds who flocked to hear him, that he excluded him from the pulpit after three or four sermons, and refused to admit Mr. Stillingfleet, though I said everything I could to induce him to do so. Since then, I have opened my house, but find it too small for the numbers who solicit permission to attend. I have no hopes of again obtaining the use of the parish church.”

Just at this time, Madan came to Cheltenham, and was soon after joined by Venn, and by Maddock, the latter the curate of Hervey, of Weston-Favel. Contrary to the expectations of Lord Dartmouth, both Madan and Venn were several times admitted to the parish pulpit. Then came Whitefield, and an immense crowd collected, expecting that he also would preach in the church. Attended by Lord and Lady Dartmouth, and by Messrs. Madan, Venn, Talbot, and Downing, the renowned preacher proceeded to the church door. They found it closed against them. Whitefield, never at a loss for pulpits, mounted a neighbouring tombstone, and preached. The Rev. Henry Venn shall tell the remainder of the story. In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, he wrote:—

“Under Mr. Whitefield’s sermon, many, among the immense crowd that filled every part of the burial ground, were overcome with fainting. Some sobbed deeply; others wept silently; and a solemn concern appeared on the countenance of almost the whole assembly. When he came to impress the injunction in the text (Isaiah li. 1) his words seemed to cut like a sword, and several in the congregation burst out into the most piercing bitter cries. Mr. Whitefield, at this juncture, made a pause, and then burst into a flood of tears. During this short interval, Mr. Madan and myself stood up, and requested the people to restrain themselves, as much as possible, from making any noise. Twice afterwards, we had to repeat the same counsel. O with what eloquence, energy, and melting tenderness, did Mr. Whitefield beseech sinners to be reconciled to God! When the sermon was ended, the people seemed chained to the ground. Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, Mr. Downing, and myself found ample employment in endeavouring to comfort those broken down under a sense of guilt. We separated in different directions among the crowd, and each was quickly surrounded by an attentive audience, still eager to hear all the words of this life.

“The next day, a like scene was witnessed, when dear Mr. Whitefield preached to a prodigious congregation from Isaiah lv. 6. In the evening, Mr. Talbot preached at Lord Dartmouth’s, to as many as the rooms would hold. Hundreds crowded round his lordship’s residence, anxiously expecting Mr. Whitefield to preach. Exhausted as he was from his exertions in the morning, when he heard that there were multitudes without, he stood upon a table near the front of the house, and proclaimed the efficacy of the Saviour’s blood to cleanse the vilest of the vile.

“Intelligence of the extraordinary power attending the word soon spread, and the next day we had Mr. Charles Wesley and many friends from Bristol, Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Rodborough, and the villages in the neighbourhood; but all loud weeping and piercing cries had subsided, and the work of conversion went on in a more silent manner. For several days, we have had public preaching, which has been well attended, and much solid good has been done.

“Mr. Whitefield and myself purpose leaving this for London the day after to-morrow; and Mr. Madan and Mr. Talbot go in a few days to Northamptonshire.”440

This was a glorious “mission week,” in Cheltenham churchyard, a hundred and twenty-nine years ago. It is rather remarkable that Whitefield himself has left no account of it; but, shortly after, he wrote, as follows, to Mr. Madan, pursuing his “mission” work in Northamptonshire.

“London, November 3, 1757.

“Your kind letter was very acceptable. Ere now, I trust, the Redeemer has given you the prospect of the barren wilderness being turned into a fruitful field. Never fear. Jesus will delight to honour you. Every clergyman’s name is Legion. Two more are lately ordained.441 The kingdom of God suffereth violence, and, if we would take it by force, we must do violence to our softest passions, and be content to be esteemed unkind by those whose idols we once were. This is hard work; but, Abba, Father, all things are possible with Thee!

“Blessed be God! for putting it into your heart to ask my pulpit for a week-day sermon. Are we not commanded to be instant in season and out of season? If dear Mrs. Madan will take my word for it, I will be answerable for your health. The joy resulting from doing good will be a continual feast. God knows how long our time of working may last. This order undoes us. As affairs now stand, we must be disorderly, or useless. O for more labourers!

“I am told thousands went away last Sunday evening from Tottenham Court, for want of room. Every day produces fresh accounts of good being done. At this end of the town, the word runs, and is glorified more and more. Last Friday, we had a most solemn fast. I preached thrice. Thousands attended; and, I humbly hope, our prayers entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. More bad news from America about our fleet. God humble and reform us! Go on, my dear sir, and tell a sinful nation, that sin and unbelief are the accursed things which prevent success. Thus, at last, we shall deliver our souls, and be free from the blood of all men.

“That you may return to London in all the fulness of the blessings of the gospel of Christ, is and shall be the prayer of, dear sir,

“Yours, etc.,

“George Whitefield.”

While Whitefield was acquiring new friends, he was losing old ones. Jonathan Belcher, governor of the province of New Jersey, died on August 31, 1757; and Aaron Burr, President of New Jersey College, within a month afterwards. “The deaths of Governor Belcher, and President Burr,” wrote Whitefield, “are dark providences; but Jesus lives and reigns. Lord, raise up Elishas in the room of ascended Elijahs!”442

Whitefield’s correspondence was enormous. As a rule, no letters have been introduced in the present work, except such as contained facts and statements illustrative of his work and history. Mere friendly letters, though existing in great numbers, have been excluded. As a specimen of hundreds of others, which might have been inserted, the following, hitherto unpublished, may be welcome. They relate to the marriage of the grandfather and grandmother of James Rooker, Esq., solicitor, at Bideford, by whom they have been courteously lent:—

“London, November 15, 1757.

“Dear Miss Molly,—Though weak in body, yet, as perhaps it may be the last time I may write to you in your present position, be pleased to accept a few valedictory lines.

“I think you may cheerfully say, ‘I will go with the man.’ Providence seems to have directed you to one who, I trust, will love you as Christ loves the Church. My poor prayers will always follow you. That you may be a mother in Israel, and, in every respect, be enabled to walk as becometh the wife of a true minister of Jesus Christ, is, and shall be, the ardent desire of, dear Miss Molly, your affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,

“George Whitefield.

“To Miss Molly Shepherd.”

“London, January 17, 1758. “Seven in the morning.

“Reverend and dear Sir,—I wish you joy, from my inmost soul, of being married to one of the best-women, and of being admitted into one of the best families in England. I never had the least doubt of your affair being of God. You have called Jesus and His disciples to the marriage; and your letter sent me to my knees with tears of joy and strong cryings that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus may bless you both. You need not ask, my dear sir, the continuance of my friendship. I value you as a dear minister of Christ, and as the husband of one who was presented by her honoured father at the table of the Lord. I doubt not of her being a help-meet for you,—a mother in Israel. May you, like Zachary and Elizabeth, be enabled to walk in all the ordinances and commandments of the Lord blameless! I am glad the dear little female flock at Bideford will have such an agreeable addition to their society. That grace, mercy, and peace may be multiplied on them and you, is, and shall be, the hearty prayer of, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate friend and ready servant in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.

“My wife joins in cordial respects.

“To the Rev. Mr. Lavington.”

Scores of such letters might be introduced,—the spontaneous effusions of a warm-hearted Christian friendship.

Whitefield’s incessant and arduous labours began to affect his health. Hence the following extracts from his correspondence:—

“London, November 26, 1757. Last week, my poor feeble labours almost brought me to the grave; but preaching three times, yesterday, on account of the late success of the Prussians, has somewhat recovered me. It was a high day: thousands and thousands attended.”

“London, December 14, 1757. By New Year’s Day, I hope, we shall be able to discharge our Tottenham Court chapel debts. Every day proves more and more that it was built for the glory of Christ, and the welfare of many precious and immortal souls. But my attendance on that, and the Tabernacle too, with a weak body, outward cares, and inward trials, has, of late, frequently brought me near to my wished-for port. I am brought to the short allowance of preaching but once a day, and thrice on a Sunday.

“Round the Tottenham Court chapel there is a most beautiful piece of ground, and some good folks have purposed erecting almshouses on each side, for godly widows. I have a plan for twelve. The whole expense will be £400. We have got £100. The widows are to have half a crown a week. The sacrament money, which will be more than enough, is to be devoted to this purpose. Thus will many widows be provided for, and a standing monument be left, that the Methodists were not against good works.”

Thus did Whitefield end the year 1757 in caring for widows, as, for the last twenty years, he had cared for orphans.

He began the new year, 1758, with a devout outburst of patriotic gratitude. As already stated, Frederick, King of Prussia, had recently won a most important battle; and Whitefield wished to recognize the hand of God in the defeat of his country’s enemies. “Monday, January 2,” says the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1758, p. 41, “was observed as a day of thanksgiving, at the chapel in Tottenham Court Road, by Mr. Whitefield’s people, for the signal victories gained by the King of Prussia over his enemies.”

It was a trial to Whitefield to be obliged to preach but once a day on week-days, and thrice on Sundays; but, as usual, he was thankful and jubilant. The debt on the chapel in Tottenham Court Road was paid; his friend Martin Madan had become a son of thunder; numbers of sinners were being saved; and the political horizon was growing brighter. The following are extracts from his letters:—

“London, January 12, 1758. A more effectual door than ever seems to be opening in this metropolis. A counsellor, lately ordained, turns out a Boanerges. Thousands and thousands flock to hear the everlasting gospel. Let us wrestle in prayer for each other.”

“London, January 17, 1758. What can reconcile us to stay longer on earth, but the prospect of seeing the kingdom of the Lord Jesus advanced? It is very promising in London. Mr. Madan is a Boanerges. The chapel is made a Bethel. Blessed be God! all the debt is paid.”

The godly and benevolent John Thornton, Esq., was now a young man rising rapidly into notice. In his house, at Clapham, Whitefield frequently expounded to large assemblies.443 To Miss Gideon,444 the friend and correspondent of Venn, Whitefield wrote as follows:—

“London, February 3, 1758. I am reduced to the short allowance of preaching once a day, except thrice on a Sunday. At both ends of the town, the word runs and is glorified. The champions in the Church go on like sons of thunder. I am to be at Clapham this evening. Mr. Venn will gladly embrace the first opportunity. Bristol, in all probability, will be my first spring excursion.”

In another letter, of the same date, he wrote:—

“The plan concerted some time ago is likely to be put into execution. The trenches for the wall are begun; and, by the 1st of May, the almshouses are to be finished. If possible, I would furnish them, that the poor might be sure of goods, as well as a house. The thing has scarce, as yet, taken wind. By thoughtfulness, frequent preaching, and a crazy tabernacle, my nightly rests are continually broken; but the joy of the Lord is my strength. I hope ere long to be where I shall keep awake for ever.”

The next letter, addressed to Professor Francke, of Germany, though containing but little additional information, is too interesting to be omitted.

“London, March 5, 1758.

“Most Reverend and dear Sir,—Through grace, the fields are as ready to harvest as ever. In the summer, I range; and, with a table for my pulpit, and the heavens for my sounding-board, I am enabled, generally thrice a day, to call to many thousands to come to Jesus that they may have life. In the winter, I am confined to London; but, to my great mortification, through continual vomitings, want of rest, and of appetite, I have been reduced, for some time, to the short allowance of preaching only once a day, except Sundays, when I generally preach thrice. Thousands attend every evening, at both ends of the town; and, on Sundays, many, many go away for want of room. The Divine presence is amongst us, and every week produces fresh instances of the power of converting grace.

“Blessed be God! we meet with no disturbances in town, and very seldom in the country; but last year, while I was preaching in the fields in Ireland, a popish mob was so incensed at my proclaiming the Lord our Righteousness, and at my praying for our good old King, and the King of Prussia, that they surrounded, stoned, and almost killed me. But we are immortal till our work is done. Glad should I have been to have died in such a cause.

“Mr. Wesley has Societies in Ireland and elsewhere; and, though we differ a little in some principles, yet brotherly love continues. When itinerating, I generally preach among his people, as freely as among those who are called our own.

“In London, several new flaming preachers are come forth; and we hear of others, in various parts of the kingdom, who seem determined to know and preach nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.

“Thousands and thousands are now praying daily for success to the Prussian and Hanoverian arms. Your fast-days were kept here with great solemnity; and will be so again, God willing, when I know the day. Our Joshuas are in the field. Many a Moses is gone up into the mount to pray. ‘Nil desperandum Christo duce, auspice Christo.’ He who wrought such wonders for the Prussian monarch last year, can repeat them this. The distresses of German Protestants, we look upon as our own. We have also endeavoured to give thanks for the great mercy vouchsafed your Orphan House, and the Protestant cause.”

In the third week of the month of May, Whitefield left his “winter quarters,” and set out for the west of England, and for Wales. He began his journey in a one-horse chaise; but driving prevented his reading, and the vehicle nearly shook him to pieces.445 His servant, also, “who rode the fore-horse, was often exceedingly splashed with dirt, when the roads were bad.” For such reasons, Whitefield wished to exchange his humble conveyance for a more convenient one. He arrived at Gloucester, on Saturday, May 20; and, on the following day, preached thrice and administered the holy sacrament. On Tuesday, May 23, he came to Bristol, and, for the next five days, preached twice daily, either at Bristol, Bath, or Kingswood. His chaise still troubled him, and he longed for “a good four-wheel carriage for £30 or £40.” “I would not,” says he, “lay out a single farthing, but for my blessed Master.” On Monday, May 29, in the best way he could, he started for Wales. On his return to Bristol, he wrote a series of letters to a number of his aristocratic friends. The following are extracts:—

To the Countess Delitz:—

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. Never was I brought so low as on my late circuit in Wales; but, as far as I can hear, it was one of the most prosperous I ever took. Twice every day, thousands and thousands attended, in various towns in South Wales; and, on the Sundays, the numbers were incredible. Welcome, thrice welcome, death in such a cause!”

To Captain H――y:—

“Bristol, June 16, 1758. The Welsh roads have almost demolished my open one-horse chaise, as well as me. I am almost ashamed of your being put to so much trouble, in procuring a close chaise for me; but I like the purchase exceeding well. The legacy is wonderful. I can give it away with a good grace. At present, I think the Orphan House shall have the whole. It is much wanted there.”

To Lady Huntingdon:—

“Bristol, June 17, 1758. This leaves me returned from Wales. It proved a most delightful trying circuit. I suppose your ladyship has heard how low I have been in body,—scarce ever lower,—not able to sit up in company all the time, yet strengthened to travel without food, and to preach to thousands every day. The great congregation at Haverfordwest consisted of near fifteen thousand. O for some disinterested soul to help at the chapel during the summer season! Spiritual, divine ambition, whither art thou fled? But I see such honours are reserved for few. I rejoice in the increase of your ladyship’s spiritual routs; and can guess at the consolations such uncommon scenes must afford you.”

The “spiritual routs,” here mentioned, were meetings held twice a week, in the house of the Countess of Huntingdon, and at which Romaine, Madan, and Venn officiated. They were remarkable gatherings, and included, among others, the Duchess of Bedford, the Duchess of Grafton, Lady Jane Scott, Lord and Lady Dacre, Mr. and Lady Anne Connolly, Lady Elizabeth Keppell, Lady Betty Waldegrave, Lady Coventry, Lord Weymouth, Lord Tavistock, the Duchess of Hamilton, the Duchess of Richmond, Lady Ailesbury, Lord and Lady Hertford, Lady Townsend, Lord Trafford, Lord Northampton, Lady Hervey, Lady Pembroke, Lady Northumberland, Lady Rebecca Paulet, Lord Edgecumbe, Lord Lyttleton, Lady Essex, etc., etc.446 It is impossible to estimate the far-reaching results of meetings like these. A current of Christian influence was created, which affected a large portion of the aristocracy of the land, and, through them, a countless number of other people.

Whitefield bewails the want of men to preach in his Tottenham Court Road chapel. At this very time, he was corresponding with a young man, twenty-three years of age, Robert Robinson, afterwards the famous Dissenting minister at Cambridge. Robinson had recently left London, and gone to Norwich. Here, on May 10, 1758, he wrote Whitefield a long letter, telling him that, six years ago, curiosity drew him to the Tabernacle, to pity Whitefield’s folly, and to abhor the doctrines he preached. Whitefield took for his text, “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Robinson says, he “went pitying the poor deluded Methodists; but came away envying their happiness.” He constantly attended the Tabernacle for two years and seven months before he found peace with God. He had now begun to preach, and writes:—

“How often do I tremble lest I should run before I am sent; yet I dare not say the Lord has left me without witness. Multitudes of people come to hear the word, both in Norwich and the country.”447

Whitefield replied to Robinson’s letter as follows:—

“Bristol, May 25, 1758.

“Why did you not make your case known to me before you left London? What motives induced you to leave it? How came you to go to Norwich? What prospect have you of a growing people? You may send a line to London, and it will be forwarded to me in the country. I have now opened my summer’s campaign. The Redeemer has given us a good beginning. Who knows but we shall have a glorious ending? He is all in all. You find that He strengthens and blesses you in His work, and causes your rod to bud and blossom. That your bow may abide in strength, that you may be clothed with humility, and that the arms of your hands may be continually strengthened by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob, is the earnest prayer of your affectionate friend in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.”448

Robinson answered Whitefield’s questions:—

“You ask, sir, why I did not make myself known to you in London? The plain truth is this, I had such a sense of my unworthiness, that I thought your conversation too great an honour for me to enjoy.”

Robinson assigns as his reasons for leaving London, the desire of his relatives to see him; a hope that residing in the country would improve his health; and especially a fear that, if he stayed, his London friends would make him preach before God called him. As to the reason of his going to Norwich, he writes:—

“My intention was to settle in the farming business in the country; but there I found many souls awakened, who had the word preached but now and then. We met in the evenings to sing and pray and speak our experience. They often solicited me to preach among them, as did some neighbouring Dissenting ministers. I long refused; till they wrung their hands, and wept bitterly, and told me they were starving for the word. With many doubts and fears, I, at last, agreed to their request. People came from adjacent towns to hear me. I was invited higher up the country. At length, some of Mr. Wheatley’s friends informed him of me. He sent his clerk, entreating me to come to Norwich. I did come; and, according to the present appearance of things, I apprehend I shall be fixed here.”

In reply to Whitefield’s fourth question, Robinson remarked:—

“As to the ‘prospect of a growing people,’—sometimes I think it bids fair for it; sometimes I think otherwise. The church I preach to has near forty members, and many more are desirous of being received. On the Lord’s-day, we have several hundreds of hearers, who seem very serious, and enquiring the way to Zion. On the week-days, we have abundance of people to hear; and, I hope, the Lord does not let His word return void. The country people frequently send for me, on the days I do not preach at Norwich; and multitudes come to hear, so that the preaching houses will not hold them. However, I can go upon the commons; and, blessed be God! there is room there; and, what is best of all, there is room enough and to spare in my Master’s house. By the time I have preached in public, and have visited, exhorted, and prayed with the people in private, and have kept a little time to enjoy my God in my closet, I find my day is gone; but it is an honour to be busy for Christ. O that my soul may be found living and dying in it!

“My dear sir, I rejoice in your prosperity in the gospel. Go where I will, I find some of your spiritual children;—some awakened by hearing you, and some by reading your sermons. Dear sir, go on preaching; and we will go on praying for you; and who knows what a prayer-hearing God may do? I am really ashamed of my long letter; but, methinks, I am now opening my heart to a tender father, who, I trust, will excuse my infirmities.

“I remain, dear sir, your affectionate son and servant in Christ,

“Robert Robinson.”449

Thus did Robert Robinson become a preacher,—a man who rose to sufficient eminence to have one of his publications discussed in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords; whose learning and services were such as to procure for him the offer of the diploma of D.D. from a Scotch University; and yet, lamentable to relate, who became so loose in his theology as to die under the imputation of being a Socinian.

After his return from Wales, Whitefield’s stay in London was brief. Towards the end of July, he set out for Scotland; in journeying towards which, he formed an acquaintance with another recently converted clergyman, who, for nearly thirty years afterwards, annually rendered important service in Whitefield’s London chapels. John Berridge, the well-known Vicar of Everton, had recently found peace with God, through faith in Christ; and, six months after the time of Whitefield’s visit, occurred those puzzling phenomena, the stricken cases, mentioned in Wesley’s Journal. It is rather remarkable, that, though Whitefield’s preaching was much more sensational than Wesley’s, no such effects seem to have been witnessed at Everton by him, as were witnessed by his friend. At all events, if such happened, he is silent concerning them. All that is known of his visit, is contained in the following letter:—

“Newcastle, July 31, 1758.

“All the last week was taken up in preaching at Everton, St. Neots, Keysoe, Bedford, Olney, Weston-Favel, Underwood, Ravenstone, and Northampton. Four clergymen lent me their churches, and three read prayers for me in one day. I preached also in John Bunyan’s pulpit; and, at Northampton, I took the field. Good seasons at all the places. Mr. Berridge, who was lately awakened at Everton, promises to be a burning and shining light. Yesterday, we had good times here; and, to-morrow, I shall set off for Edinburgh. My bodily strength increases but very little. Sometimes I am almost tempted to turn back; but I hope to go forward, and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work.”

Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh on August 4, and, despite physical weakness, preached, for nearly a month, in the Orphan Hospital Park, to enormous congregations, morning and evening, every day.450 Mr. Gillies invited him to Glasgow; but he replied:—

“I fear your kind invitation cannot be complied with. For above three months past, I have been so weak, that I could scarcely drag the crazy load along. I preach at Edinburgh twice a day; but I grow weaker and weaker. I suppose you have heard of the death of Mr. Jonathan Edwards. Happy he!”

In another letter he wrote:—

“Edinburgh, August 19, 1758.

“I came here a fortnight ago, very low indeed; but, by preaching about thirty times, I am a good deal better. Multitudes, of all ranks, flock twice every day. I thought to have moved on Tuesday next, but, as it is the race week, and my health is improving, friends advise me to stay.”

On August 29, he went to Glasgow, where he remained a week. Here, after one of his sermons, he made a collection, amounting to nearly £60, on behalf of a Society, established in 1727, for educating and putting to trades the sons of Highlanders, and of which the Duke of Argyll was the principal member.451

Whitefield also preached three thanksgiving sermons, for the taking of Cape Breton, by Boscawen, Amherst, and Wolfe; for the defeat of the Russians, at the great battle of Custrin, by Frederick, King of Prussia; and for the victory over the Austrians and Imperialists, at Crevelt, by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick. “By his warm and repeated exhortations to loyalty, and a steady adherence to the Protestant interest,” said the Glasgow Courant, “Mr. Whitefield’s visit here has been useful to the community in a civil, as well as a religious, light.”

On September 6, Whitefield returned to Edinburgh, and, during another week, preached twice every day. On September 13, he set out for London. “By his visit,” says the Scots’ Magazine, “the Edinburgh Orphan Hospital has drawn upwards of £200, by the collections at the entry to the Park, and by the seat-rents.”

Remembering the value of money in 1758, these were enormous sums. No wonder, that, even on such a ground, the canny Scots were always ready to give to Whitefield a hearty welcome.

Glimpses of his preaching tour to London will be obtained in the following extracts from his letters:—

“Darlington, September 21, 1758.

“At Edinburgh and Glasgow, my health grew better, and I was enabled to preach always twice, and sometimes thrice a day, to very large and affected auditories. In my way to Newcastle, I preached twice; and thrice in and about that place. Yesterday, I hope, some gospel seed fell on good ground at Durham and Bishop-Auckland. I am now on my way to Yarm, and hope next Lord’s-day to be at Leeds.”

“Leeds, October 11, 1758.

“Though I have preached twice and sometimes thrice a day for above a fortnight past, preaching does not kill me. God has been giving blessed seasons. By next Lord’s-day, I am to be at Rotherham and Sheffield. Change of weather will alone drive me to winter quarters. Lord, prepare me for winter trials! They are preparative for an eternal summer.”

To his friend Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow, he wrote:—

“Rotherham, October 15, 1758.

“Since my leaving Scotland, in various parts of the north of England, as at Alnwick, Newcastle, Leeds, etc., the ever loving, altogether lovely Jesus has manifested His glory. Thousands and thousands have flocked twice, and sometimes thrice a day to hear the word. Never did I see the fields whiter for a spiritual harvest. Praise the Lord, O our souls! If the weather continues fair, I hope to prolong my summer’s campaign. It shocks me to think of winter quarters yet. How soon does the year roll round! Lord Jesus, quicken my tardy pace! As they were in debt, at Leeds, for their building,452 last Lord’s-day I collected for them near £50. Lord Jesus, help me to know no party but Thine! This, I am persuaded, is your catholic spirit. O for an increase of it among all denominations!”

From Sheffield, Whitefield proceeded to Staffordshire; and intended to go from there to Bristol; but “change of weather and the shortness of the days drove” him to his “winter quarters.” On reaching London, he wrote:—

“October 28. My health is somewhat improved, but a very little thing soon impairs it. Lord, help me! How very little can I do for Thee! We have had fine gospel seasons. Grace! grace!”453

These fragmentary records are truly marvellous. How a man, in such health, performed such labours, for months together, it is difficult to imagine.

Once again in London, his Orphan House demanded his attention. The family had been reduced, and he now had it in his “power to pay off all Bethesda’s arrears.” He sent a number of “Bibles and other books.” “He longed for an opportunity” to go himself; but the war prevented him, and he knew not how to get supplies for his two London chapels. He was, however, quite satisfied with the management of his housekeeper, and sent her “ten thousand thousand thanks.” He wished his superintendent to consign him “a little rice and indigo,” that his “friends might see some of the Orphan House produce.” Taken altogether, his affairs in Georgia were less embarrassing than usual.454

During the year, Whitefield had gained a new clerical friend, in Berridge of Everton; but, before it ended, he lost a friend, whom he dearly loved. James Hervey died on Christmas-day, 1758. Within a week of this mournful occurrence, Whitefield wrote the following pathetic letter to the dying rector of Weston-Favel:—

“London, December 19, 1758.

“And is my dear friend indeed about to take his last flight? I dare not wish your return into this vale of tears. But our prayers are continually ascending to the Father of our spirits that you may die in the embraces of a never-failing Jesus, and in all the fulness of an exalted faith. O when will my time come! I groan in this tabernacle, being burdened, and long to be clothed with my house from heaven. Farewell! My very dear friend, f—a—r—e—well! Yet a little while, and we shall meet,—

‘Where sin, and strife, and sorrow cease,

And all is love, and joy, and peace.’

“There Jesus will reward you for all the tokens of love which you have showed, for His great name’s sake, to yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.”

“P.S. God comfort your mother, and relations, and thousands and thousands more who will bewail your departure!”455

In the year 1758, Whitefield, comparatively speaking, “had rest” from persecution. The only exception was in the case of scurrilous Dr. Free, Vicar of East Coker, and Lecturer at St. Mary Hill, London, and at Newington, Surrey. On Whitsunday, this vehement defender of the Church, preached a sermon, before the University, at St. Mary’s, Oxford, which he immediately published, with a “Preface” and an “Appendix,” and a “Dedication” to the Archbishop of Canterbury. (8vo. 65 pp.) In his “Dedication,” Free informs the Archbishop, that, Wesley and Whitefield “have, by secret advances, so far stolen upon the common people, as to seduce many of all denominations from their proper pastors; and, aided by this mixed multitude, they threaten the Church of England, the bulwark of the Protestant cause, with a general alteration, or total subversion.” Free’s “Appendix” chiefly consists of extracts from Whitefield’s Journals, by which he pretends to prove—1. That the “Methodists experiment upon women in hysteric fits, and upon young persons in convulsions, under pretence of exorcising devils.” 2. That Whitefield professed to have received “extraordinary inspirations in his office as a preacher.” 3. That he and others had “attempted to set up a new form of church-government, through the kingdom, in contempt of the authority of the Bishops, and without any authority from the state.” 4. That they had propagated “atheistical doctrines and propositions, quite destructive to the morality and well-being of a state.” 5. That they had “abused the clergy in general, and the great lights of the Church in particular.” 6. That they “imagined God had made them the instruments of a great work.” 7. That they used “religiously amorous, melting, and rapturous expressions.”

Whitefield treated the ravings of the Rev. Dr. Free with silent contempt. Wesley wrote the doctor two “letters,” and then left him “to laugh, and scold, and witticise, and call names, just as he pleased.”

Little is known respecting Whitefield’s health, labours, and success, during the first four months of 1759.

On the 4th of January, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Bristol to meet Wesley, who accompanied her to Bath, and preached, to several of the nobility, in her house. Early in February, her ladyship returned to London, and, on Friday, the 16th, the day appointed for a public fast, she went to the Tabernacle, where Whitefield addressed an immense congregation from the words, “Rend your hearts, and not your garments.” At half-past eight in the evening, she heard Wesley at the Foundery, where he preached, to an overflowing multitude, from “Seek the Lord while He may be found.” Her ladyship, profoundly impressed with a conviction of the necessity and power of prayer, arranged for a series of intercession meetings in her own mansion. On Wednesday, February 21, the officiating ministers were Whitefield, Charles Wesley, Venn, and Thomas Maxfield. On Friday, the 23rd, the meeting was conducted by Romaine, Wesley, Madan, and Jones. On Tuesday, the 27th, Wesley writes: “I walked with my brother and Mr. Maxfield to Lady Huntingdon’s. After breakfast, came in Messrs. Whitefield, Madan, Romaine, Jones, Downing, and Venn, with some persons of quality, and a few others. Mr. Whitefield, I found, was to have administered the sacrament; but he insisted upon my doing it: after which, at the request of Lady Huntingdon, I preached on 1 Cor. xiii. 13. O what are the greatest men, to the great God! As the small dust of the balance.”456 Charles Wesley adds to this account, by saying, “My brother preached, and won all our hearts. I never liked him better, and was never more united to him since his unhappy marriage. We dined at Mr. Madan’s, who took us in his coach.”457 On Wednesday, the 28th, the service was conducted by Wesley, Venn, and Madan, and, at its close, Whitefield delivered a short exhortation. On Thursday, March 1, the Rev. Thomas Jones preached, and Romaine prayed. On Friday, the 2nd, Charles Wesley gave an address, and Whitefield, Romaine, Downing, and Venn prayed.

These remarkable meetings seem to have been concluded on Tuesday, March 6, when, besides the clergymen already mentioned, there was another present, who afterwards attained a distinguished eminence—John Fletcher, the immortal Vicar of Madeley. First of all, the sacrament was administered by Whitefield. Among the communicants were the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, the Countess of Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Sir Charles Hotham, Mrs. Carteret, Mrs. Cavendish, Sir Sidney Halford Smythe, Mr. Thornton (of Clapham), the Rev. Messrs. Venn, Jones, Maxfield, Downing, Fletcher, and others. Whitefield addressed the communicants; “and all were touched to the heart,” said Lady Huntingdon, “and dissolved in tears.” Whitefield, Romaine, and Madan prayed. The sacramental service being ended, the Earls of Chesterfield and Holderness, and several others of distinction, were admitted. Whitefield preached, with his accustomed eloquence and energy, from “Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” The word, remarked Lady Huntingdon, “drew sighs from every heart, and tears from every eye. Mr. Fletcher concluded with a prayer, every syllable of which appeared to be uttered under the immediate teaching of the Spirit; and, he has told me since, that, he never had more intimate communion with God, or enjoyed so much of His immediate presence, as on that occasion.”458

Glorious men, and glorious meetings! No wonder God was present! Who can estimate the results of these godly gatherings? Fresh from such meetings, the Countess of Huntingdon went to Brighton, longing, panting, and praying for the salvation of sinners. She carried to the mansions of the nobility the influence of the services held in her London residence. She took to the houses of the poor the glad tidings of salvation. A soldier’s wife, at Brighton, manifested such anxiety, that the Countess was induced to repeat her visit. The apartment was contiguous to a public bakehouse, and the people, who came to the oven, listened, through a crack in the partition, to her ladyship’s conversations, readings, expositions, and prayers. In a little while, she had, in this humble home, a regular congregation. At first, none but females were admitted; but a blacksmith, named Joseph Wall, a man notorious for his profligacy, by some means, gained admission, was converted, and, for a period of twenty-nine years, adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour. The Countess had become a preacheress, and a successful one! In the midst of her Brighton meetings she sent for Whitefield. Whitefield went. His first sermon was preached under a tree, in a field behind the White Lion Inn. Among his hearers was a youth, eighteen years of age, Thomas Tupper, ready to stone the preacher, but who was so affected by Whitefield’s cry of “Turn ye! turn ye!” that he was converted, and became the predecessor of the well-known William Jay of Bath. Another convert, gained on the spot, was Edward Gadsby, who, for more than a quarter of a century afterwards, “walked in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.” After this, conversions were multiplied; and the Countess built a small, but neat meeting-house, on the site of the present one in North Street, the expense of which she, either wholly, or in part, defrayed by the sale of her jewels. In 1761, the chapel was opened by Martin Madan; and, in succession, Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, severally took charge of the congregation.459

As usual, Whitefield was greatly encouraged by the prosperity of the work of God in London. In a letter to his housekeeper at Bethesda, dated “March 26, 1759,” he wrote, “We live in a changing world, but Bethesda’s God liveth for ever and ever. His word runs and is glorified daily, especially at Tottenham Court. Strange! that nobody will relieve me, that I may once more flee to America. But, heavenly Father, our times are in Thine hands: do with us as seemeth good in Thy sight!”

Before leaving London for his “spring campaign,” Whitefield issued a small publication with the following title: “A Sermon on Christ Crucified. Preached at Paul’s Cross, the Friday before Easter. By John Foxe, the Martyrologist. With a recommendatory preface by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. London, 1759.”

Nothing need be said of John Foxe’s sermon, but Whitefield’s preface is too good to be omitted.

“To all who attend on the word, preached at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields, and at Tottenham Court chapel.

“My dear Hearers,—The ensuing discourse was lately put into my hands. The title-page informs you when, where, and by whom it was delivered—namely, near two hundred years ago, in the open air, from a pulpit made in the shape of a cross in Cheapside, commonly called Paul’s Cross, and by that venerable man of God, Mr. John Foxe, Prebend of St. Paul’s, whose Book of Martyrs was, by order of the government in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, fixed in all churches, and remains in many to this day. Though some of the expressions in this sermon may seem to be obsolete, and others want a little explication, I choose to publish it in its native dress, not only on account of its being designed for the instruction and comfort of heavy-laden souls, who are too deeply impressed to mind the elegancy and correctness of the words and phrases, but also chiefly that you might have a specimen of that foolishness of preaching, which, in the days of our forefathers, was so mighty through God to the pulling down of the outward strongholds of popery in these kingdoms; and what was infinitely more (though less discernible by the natural man), the mightier inward strongholds of sin and corruption, in the hearts of both Papists and Protestants.

“And would to God, that not only all the ministers of our Established Church, but of all the Protestant Reformed Churches, were not only almost, but altogether, such preachers! How would their hearers’ hearts then burn within them, whilst they were opening to them, from the Scriptures, man’s original apostacy from God,—the only means of reconciliation through faith in the blood of Christ,—a universal morality, as the sole fruit and proof of such a faith,—an establishment and growth in grace here,—and, as the blessed and certain consequences of all these, a perfect consummation of bliss, both of body and soul, in the full and eternal enjoyment of a Triune God in the kingdom of heaven hereafter. These are the grand truths delivered in the following sermon.

“My chief reason for dedicating it to you is to let you see that the doctrines you daily hear are no new doctrines, but the very same which were preached two hundred years ago, and that in the streets too, by the excellent compilers of the Liturgy and Articles, and who had the honour of being banished and burned, in the bloody reign of Queen Mary, for adhering to the same. And, if it should ever happen in our times, that any of their true-born faithful sons and successors should be excluded pulpits, denied licenses, or put into spiritual courts for preaching in the same manner, let them remember, that we live under a reign, when, though pulpits are shut, the highways and hedges lie open. Paul’s Cross, as I am informed, was burnt down at the Fire of London; but Christ crucified, whom Paul preached, may yet be exalted in the streets and lanes of the city. Our Lord has given us a universal commission: ‘Go ye, and preach the gospel to every creature.’ When thrust out of the synagogues, a mountain, a ship were his pulpit, and the heavens were his sounding-board. Thus Latimer, Cranmer, Ridley, and Mr. John Foxe, the famous martyrologist, preached. And who needs be ashamed of copying after such unexceptionable examples? But I am detaining you too long. Haste, and read; and if, in reading, you feel what I did, you will be glad of this sermon.

“I am, my dear hearers, your affectionate friend and ready servant, in our common Lord,

“George Whitefield.

“London, May 4, 1759.”

A few days after the date of this Protestant preface, Whitefield left London on another of his gospel tours. Hence the following:—

“Bristol, May 25, 1759.

“This day se’nnight, I came hither. The next day, the spring campaign was opened. On the Lord’s-day, we took the field. Thousands and thousands attended: full as many as in London. The power of the Lord was present at the three meetings, as well as at the holy sacrament. Ever since, I have been enabled to preach twice, and sometimes thrice a day. Never did I see the Bristol people more attentive or impressed. My body feels the heat, but no matter. If souls are benefited, all is well.”

Leaving Bristol, Whitefield made his way to Scotland, arriving at Edinburgh on Saturday, the 30th of June.460 Three days afterwards, he wrote as follows:—

“Edinburgh, July 3, 1759. There has been a long interval between my last and this. My quick motions and frequent preaching have been the causes. O what am I that I should be employed for Jesus! In Gloucestershire, the cup of many of His people ran over. In Yorkshire, I preached for a week twice a day. Great congregations! great power! Blessed be the name of the Great God for ever and ever! Here, also, people, high and low, rich and poor, flock as usual, morning and evening. I am growing fat; but, as I take it to be a disease, I hope I shall go home the sooner. Happy they who are safe in harbour.”