Volume 2 — FOURTH VISIT TO AMERICA, AND RETURN TO ENGLAND. September 1751 to March 1754.

WHITEFIELD’S sojourn in America was of short duration. He landed in October, 1751, and seven months afterwards was again in England. His time on land seems to have been spent chiefly in Georgia and South Carolina. Very little, however, is known of his proceedings. There was urgent need to recruit his health. His business affairs, also, required attention. Still, he preached, at least, occasionally. With him, preaching was almost an element of life. His departure from England was abrupt; and his return was unexpected. All that is known of his brief visit is contained in half a dozen letters.

On October 6th, when within a few hundred miles of America, he wrote, almost impatiently:—

“O that I could do something to promote the glory of God! Alas! alas! how little have I done! My sluggish soul, stir up, and exert thyself for Jesus!”

In a letter, dated “Bethesda, in Georgia, November 20th, 1751,” he says:—

“Blessed be God! I found the children at the Orphan House much improved in learning; and I hope a foundation is now laid for a useful seminary.”

In another, dated “Charleston, December 26th,” he writes:—

“What mercies, signal mercies, has the Lord Jesus conferred on you and me! What shall we render unto the Lord? Shall we not give Him our whole hearts? O let His love constrain us to a holy, universal, cheerful obedience to all His commands. I am now returning to the Orphan House, which I trust will be like the burning bush. My poor labours are accepted here. In the spring, I purpose going to the Bermudas. Jesus is very good to me. Help me to praise Him.”

To Mr. Lunell, of Dublin, he wrote:—

“Bethesda, January, 25, 1752.

“Very dear Sir,—Man appoints, but God disappoints. Though we missed seeing each other on earth, yet, if Jesus Christ be our life, we shall meet in the kingdom of heaven. Your kind letter found me employed for the fatherless in this wilderness. I am now almost ready to enter upon my spring campaign. The news from Ireland does not at all surprise me. Weak minds soon grow giddy with power; and then they become pests, instead of helps, to the Church of God.”

To his friend Hervey, Whitefield addressed the following:—

“Charleston, February, 1, 1752.

“The Orphan House is in a flourishing way; and, I hope, will yet become a useful seminary. My poor labours, in this place, meet with acceptance. After one more trip to Georgia, I purpose setting out upon my spring campaign. I wish Lisbon may be blessed to Dr. Doddridge. O, how I wish that dear Dr. Stonehouse was fully employed in preaching the everlasting gospel! I hope you both see our good Lady Huntingdon frequently. I was rejoiced to hear, from my dear yoke-fellow, that her ladyship was bravely.”

Dr. Doddridge had embarked, for Lisbon, a month after Whitefield embarked for America. For three months past, he had been in heaven. Immediately after writing the foregoing letter, Whitefield became acquainted with the fact. Hence the following:—

“Charleston, February 5, 1752.

“Part of your first letter—I mean that respecting the Tabernacle House—gave me uneasiness; but your last removed it, and made me thankful to our Redeemer, who, in spite of all opposition, will cause His word to run and be glorified. Poor Mr. Wesley is striving against the stream.304 Strong assertions will not go for proofs, with those who are sealed by the Holy Spirit even to the day of redemption. They know that the covenant of grace is not built upon the faithfulness of a poor fallible, changeable creature, but upon the never-failing faithfulness of an unchangeable God. This is the foundation whereon I build. ‘Lord Jesus, I believe, help my unbelief! Having once loved me, Thou wilt love me to the end. Thou wilt keep that safe, which I have committed unto Thee. Establish Thy people more and more in this glorious truth; and grant that it may have this blessed effect upon us all, that we may love Thee more, and serve Thee better!’ All truths, unless productive of holiness and love, are of no avail. They may float upon the surface of the understanding; but this is to no purpose, unless they transform the heart. I trust, the dear Tabernacle preachers will always have this deeply impressed upon their minds. Let us not dispute, but love. Truth is great, and will prevail. I am quite willing that all our hearers shall hear for themselves. The spirit of Christ is a spirit of liberty. Let us look above names and parties. Let Jesus, the ever-loving, the ever-lovely Jesus, be our all in all. So that He be preached, and His Divine image stamped more and more upon people’s souls, I care not who is uppermost. I know my place, (Lord Jesus, enable me to keep it!) even to be the servant of all. I want not to have a people called after my name, and, therefore, I act as I do. The cause is Christ’s, and He will take care of it. I rejoice that you go on so well at the Tabernacle. May the shout of a king be always in the midst of you! I am apt to believe you will pray me over. But future things belong to Him, whose I am, and whom I endeavour to serve. After one more trip to the Orphan House, I purpose going northward.

“Thanks be to God! all is well at Bethesda. A most excellent tract of land is granted to me, very near the house, which, in a few years, I hope, will make a sufficient provision for it. Dr. Doddridge, I find, is gone. Lord Jesus, prepare me to follow after!”

Whitefield did not go to “the Bermudas,” nor yet “northward,” as he intended.305 About two months after the date of the foregoing letter, he suddenly set sail for England. Why was this? Nothing has yet been published to explain it. The following letter, now for the first time printed, solves the difficulty. It was addressed, “To Mr. Blackwell, banker, in Lombard Street, London”:—

“Portsmouth, May 21, 1752.

“My dear Mr. Blackwell,—I fully purposed to have written to you when I was at Charleston, in South Carolina; but my sudden resolution to embark for England prevented me. God has vouchsafed to bless me, in respect to the Orphan House, in a very unexpected manner. To put it upon a proper footing, and to apply for some privileges, before the time of the Trustees’ Charter be expired, is what has called me home so speedily. Home, did I say? I trust heaven is my home; and it is my comfort that it is not far off. Surely this body will not hold out always. Yet a little while, and our Lord will come, and take us to Himself, that where He is, there we may be also.

‘There pain and sin and sorrow cease,

And all is calm and joy and peace.’

“I wish you and yours much of this heaven upon earth. Looking unto Jesus is the only way of drawing it down into our souls. Out of His fulness, we all receive grace for grace. We have an open-handed, an open-hearted Redeemer. He giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. O for power from on high to set forth the riches of redeeming love! In a few days I hope to attempt a little of this in London. I beg your prayers. I thank you heartily for all favours; and, with cordial salutations to your whole self, subscribe myself, dear sir, yours most affectionately in our common Lord,

“G. Whitefield.”

During his absence, Whitefield’s beloved mother had exchanged mortality for life; but this was not the reason of his sudden return to England. The affairs of his Orphan House brought him back—affairs which will often be introduced to the reader’s notice in succeeding letters.

On reaching London, one of his first efforts was to procure a minister for a Dissenting church at Charleston. On May 26th, he wrote:—

“People have received me with great affection; and I never saw the work of God go on in a more promising way. Thousands and thousands hear the word gladly.

“I wish I could send you good news about your minister; but, alas! I now almost despair of procuring one. I waited upon Dr. G―― immediately after my arrival; but he gave me no hopes. Several of the large congregations in London, besides many more in the country, are without pastors; and are obliged to make use of our preachers. O that the Lord of the harvest may thrust out more labourers! Who can tell but some ministers may be raised up at Bethesda?

“At midsummer, the king takes Georgia into his own hands. Blessed be God! for sending me over at such a juncture. I am come to a determination, if I can dispose of Providence plantation, (in South Carolina,) to carry all my strength to the Orphan House.”

Besides endeavouring to provide a minister for Charleston, Whitefield was requested to render another service; for which he had no adaptation. His friend Hervey, who was writing “Theron and Aspasio,” sent him some of the manuscripts for his revision, at the same time promising him £30 for the purchase of a negro slave! Whitefield replied:—

“June 9, 1752.

“I have read your manuscripts; but for me to play the critic on them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. I think to call your intended purchase Weston, and shall take care to remind him by whose means he was brought under the everlasting gospel.”

Having employed about a month in London, Whitefield, in the third week of June, set out for Portsmouth; and thence to Bath, where he spent about three weeks with the Countess of Huntingdon, and preached every evening to great numbers of the nobility. Here also he became acquainted with Mrs. Grinfield, a lady of high position, who attended on Queen Caroline. “The Court,” says Whitefield, “rings of her; and, if she stands, I trust she will make a glorious martyr for her blessed Lord.”306

Four days were employed at Bristol, where he preached nine times. He writes:—

“Very near as many as attended at Moorfields came out every evening to hear the word. I have reason to believe much good was done. Old times seemed to be revived again. The last evening, it rained a little, but few moved. I was wet, and contracted a cold and hoarseness; but I trust preaching will cure me. This is my grand catholicon.”

On July 17, Whitefield went to Wales, where he spent a fortnight, preached twenty times, and travelled about three hundred miles.

Though Whitefield had resigned his office of moderator of the Calvinistic Methodists, and though he had often declared his determination not to form a sect, he still, occasionally, attended “Associations.” Howell Harris had recently seceded from his old friends, and, in the month of April of this selfsame year, had laid the foundation of his unique establishment at Trevecca. The schism had thrown affairs into great confusion; and, perhaps, this was the reason why Whitefield attended conferences, of which, strictly speaking, he was not a member. In a letter, dated “Bristol, August 1, 1752,” he writes:—

“In my way hither, we held an Association. There were present about nine clergy, and near forty other labourers. I trust all of them are born of God, and desirous to promote His glory, and His people’s good. All was harmony and love.”

On his way back to London, he held another Association, in Gloucestershire.307 After so many declarations that he would not attach himself to any party, Methodist or Moravian, there is considerable inconsistency in these proceedings, and the only way to explain the difficulty is to suppose, that, in the largeness of his heart, he was acting the part of a peacemaker among his old associates, and endeavouring to put an end to their hurtful strifes.

Benjamin Franklin was now acquiring a European reputation. He had satisfactorily explained the phenomena of the Leyden jar, and, in this year of 1752, had established the identity between lightning and the electric fluid. Up to the present, electricity was a science which could hardly be said to consist of more than a collection of unsystematized and ill-understood facts. Franklin’s discoveries led to remarkable results, and his fame was established. The long-continued friendship, existing between Whitefield and Franklin, was an odd incident in the great preacher’s life. In addressing Franklin, Whitefield never fawned; he was always faithful. Franklin disbelieved the chief doctrines Whitefield preached; but he respected the good intentions, the zeal, the benevolence, the honesty of the man. On his return from Wales, to London, Whitefield wrote to Franklin the following characteristic letter:—

“London, August 17, 1752.

“Dear Mr. Franklin,—I find that you grow more and more famous in the learned world. As you have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of electricity, I would now humbly recommend to your diligent unprejudiced pursuit and study the mystery of the new birth. It is a most important, interesting study, and, when mastered, will richly repay you for all your pains. One, at whose bar we are shortly to appear, hath solemnly declared, that, without it ‘we cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ You will excuse this freedom. I must have aliquid Christi in all my letters.

“I am yet a willing pilgrim for His great name’s sake, and I trust a blessing attends my poor feeble labours. To the giver of every good gift be all the glory! My respects await yourself and all enquiring friends; and hoping to see you once more in the land of the living, I subscribe myself, dear sir, your very affectionate friend, and obliged servant,

“George Whitefield.”

Two or three days after writing this, Whitefield set out for Scotland. On Sunday, August 23rd, he preached twice at Lutterworth, “the famous John Wycliffe’s parish.” Next day, he “began, in the name of the Almighty Husbandman, to break up fallow ground at Leicester.” Several thousands attended. Turnips were thrown at Whitefield during the first sermon; but at the second all was hushed. The next Sunday was spent at Newcastle-on-Tyne, where he preached four times, “and a shower of Divine blessing descended on the great congregations.” Early in September, he arrived at Edinburgh, where, for a fortnight, he “preached twice every day” to great multitudes of “polite as well as of common people.” He wrote, “Many young ministers and students were close attendants, and I trust good was done.” A week, also, was spent at Glasgow, where his home, for many years, was at the house of “Mr. James Niven, merchant, above the Cross.”308 Five more days were employed in Edinburgh; and then, on October 10th,309 he began his journey back to London. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, he wrote: “For about twenty-eight days, I suppose, I did not preach, in Scotland, to less than ten thousand every day. This has weakened my body; but the Redeemer knows how to renew my strength. I am as well as a pilgrim can expect to be. About £70 were collected for the Edinburgh Orphans; and I heard of near a dozen young men, who were awakened about ten years ago, and have since entered the ministry, and are likely to prove very useful. Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

The Rev. John Gillies, one of his constant hearers, remarks:—

“Though, after the years 1741 and 1742, there were no such extensive awakenings, Mr. Whitefield’s coming to Scotland was always refreshing to serious persons, and seemed to put new life into them, and also to be a means of increasing their number. In various respects, his preaching was still eminently useful. It had an excellent tendency to destroy bigotry, and to turn men’s attention, from smaller matters, to the great and substantial things of religion. It drew several persons to hear the gospel, who seldom went to hear it from other ministers. Young people were much benefited by his ministry, and particularly young students, who became afterwards serious evangelical preachers. His morning discourses, which were mostly intended for sincere, but disconsolate, souls, were peculiarly fitted to direct and encourage all such in the Christian life. His addresses in the evening were of a very alarming character. There was something exceedingly striking in the solemnity of his evening congregations, in the Orphan Hospital Park at Edinburgh, and in the High-Churchyard at Glasgow, especially towards the conclusion of his sermons, (which were commonly very long, though they seemed short to the hearers,) when the whole multitude stood fixed, and hung upon his lips, many of them under deep impressions of the great objects of religion. These things will not soon be forgotten. His conversation was no less reviving than his sermons. Many in Edinburgh and Glasgow are witnesses of this, especially at Glasgow, where, in company with his good friends Mr. McLaurin, Mr. Robert Scott, and others, one might challenge the sons of pleasure, with all their wit, good humour, and gaiety, to furnish entertainment so agreeable. At the same time, every part of it was not more agreeable than it was useful and edifying.”

Such a testimony, from a minister living at the time, and one of Whitefield’s faithful friends, is possessed of more than ordinary value.

On leaving Edinburgh, Whitefield preached at Berwick, Alnwick, and Morpeth. The people of Newcastle were again favoured with his ministry; and also those of Sunderland. At length, on reaching Sheffield, he wrote as follows:—

“Sheffield, November 1, 1752.

“My very dear Friend,—Since I left Newcastle, I have sometimes scarce known whether I was in heaven or on earth. At Leeds, Birstal, Haworth, Halifax, etc., thousands and thousands have flocked twice and thrice a day to hear the word of life. A gale of Divine influence has everywhere attended it. I am now come from Bolton, Manchester, Stockport, and Chinley. Yesterday, I preached in a church, where I believe execution was done. Four ordained ministers, friends to the work of God, have been with me. The word has run so swiftly at Leeds, that friends are come to fetch me back; and I am now going to Rotherham, Wakefield, Leeds, York, and Epworth, and purpose returning to this place next Lord’s-day. God favours us with weather, and I would fain make hay while the sun shines. Fain would I spend and be spent for the good of souls. This is my meat and drink.”

In another letter, written two days afterwards, and dated “Wakefield, November 3, 1752,” he wrote:—

“I have been upwards of three weeks from Scotland, and scarce ever had more encouragement in preaching the everlasting gospel. At Newcastle, Sunderland, and several places in Yorkshire, Lancashire, and Cheshire, thousands and thousands have daily attended on the word preached. I hear that arrows have stuck fast in many hearts. I am returning to Leeds; and, from thence, I shall go to York, and to several places in Lincolnshire, and am to preach at Sheffield next Lord’s-day. My return to London must be determined by the weather. It has been uncommonly favourable; and it is a pity to go into winter quarters, so long as work can be done in the fields. O that I had as many tongues as there are hairs upon my head! Jesus should have them all.”

On November 10th, Whitefield arrived in London, where he wrote:—

“My Sunday’s work” (at Sheffield), “sickness, the change of weather, and parting from friends, so enfeebled me, that I was in hopes, on the road, my imprisoned soul would have been set at liberty, and fled to the blissful regions.

“I found my poor wife an invalid. Our Lord can restore her, for He came to heal our sicknesses, and to bear our infirmities.”

Whitefield was resolved not to be the founder of a sect, and yet he had some difficulty in fulfilling his resolve. His hearers in Dublin had procured a meeting-house in Skinner Street, and had formed themselves into a public Society. John Edwards, in former years one of Whitefield’s assistants, had become their preacher; and his ministry was highly acceptable. A sort of circuit had been formed, and many were the perils which Edwards encountered. On one occasion, when returning from a village, where he had been preaching, the Ormond Boys seized him, and threatened to throw him into the Liffey. The Liberty Boys, residing on the other side of the river, being political opponents of the Ormond Boys, rushed to his assistance, rescued him, and carried him home in triumph. At another time, the White Boys beset a house into which he had entered, and threatened to burn it, if he were permitted to continue in it. He escaped by a window, being let down, like the apostle Paul, in a basket.310 The Dublin Society informed Whitefield of their position and prospects; and Whitefield wrote to Edwards, their preacher, as follows:—

“London, November 11, 1752.

“My dear Friend,—Last night, the glorious Emmanuel brought me hither; and, this morning, I have been talking with Mr. Adams, and cannot help thinking, that you have run before the Lord, in forming yourselves into a public Society. Mr. Adams’s visit was designed to be transient, and I cannot promise you any settled help from hence. I am sincere, when I profess that I do not choose to set myself at the head of any party. When I came last to Ireland, my intention was to preach the gospel to all; and, if it should please the Lord to send me there again, I purpose to pursue the same plan. For I am a debtor to all, of all denominations, and have no design but to promote the common salvation of mankind. The love of Christ constrains me to this. Accept it as written from that principle.”

When “ranging for souls,” Whitefield had little time to attend to business; when he got into his winter quarters, he was obliged to recognise its claims. The following was addressed to one of the residents in his Orphan House:—

“London, November 21, 1752.

“My dear Nat,—Your letters have all been brought safe to hand, and have given me satisfaction. I know not of a more profitable situation that you could be in, than that you occupy at present. Next year, God willing, you will have a fellow-student. I have agreed with him, as I wrote you from Edinburgh, for three years at least. I am of your mind in respect to boarders. As affairs stand, I think that, at present, the less the family is, the better. Nothing seems to be wanted but a good overseer, to instruct the negroes in sowing and planting. Let me know whether the lumber trade is begun. Pray make George and the children to write often. He should not have written to me, Honoured Master, but Sir. I am glad to hear that some of the children promise well. Surely some good will, in the end, come out of that institution. I am only afraid of its growing too great in a worldly way. O that I may be directed to such managers as will act with a single eye to God’s glory and His people’s good! I have great confidence in you. I shall be glad to live to see you a preacher. It is a delightful employment, when done out of love to Jesus: that sweetens all. O that Georgia’s wilderness may blossom like a rose! It will, when God’s set time is come. Never mind a few evil reports. No one need be ashamed of Bethesda children.”

Whitefield, in his “winter quarters,” was as jubilant as ever. In a letter, dated December 9, he writes: “The shout of a king is amongst us. Every day, we hear of persons brought under fresh awakenings, and of God’s people being comforted. We have had two most awful sacramental occasions.”

To Wesley, the year 1752 was one of trial. Several of his itinerants began to give him trouble. At the beginning of the year, he, his brother, and eleven of their principal assistants, signed a document, which shewed that suspicion had taken the place of confidence.311 During the year, some of the preachers informed Wesley, that his brother Charles did not enforce discipline so strictly as himself, and that Charles agreed with Whitefield, “touching perseverance, at least, if not predestination too.” The latter accusation was utterly untrue; but, as Charles, at this period, was living on terms of the most intimate friendship with the Countess of Huntingdon, and was frequently preaching and administering the sacrament in her house, it is not surprising that his brother deemed it his duty to write to him concerning it. The result was the creation of a temporary distrust and shyness between the two loving brothers. Charles took counsel with Whitefield; and Whitefield’s answer must be given.

“London, December 22, 1752.

“My dear Friend,—I have read and pondered your kind letter, and now sit down to answer it. What shall I say? Really, I can scarce tell. The connection between you and your brother has been so close and continued, and your attachment to him so necessary to keep up his interest, that I would not willingly, for the world, do or say anything that may separate such friends. I cannot help thinking, that he is jealous of me and my proceedings; but, I thank God, I am quite easy about it. Having the testimony of a good conscience, that I have a disinterested view to promote the common salvation only, I can leave all to Him, who, I am assured, will, in the end, speak for me, and make my righteousness clear as the light, and my just dealing as the noonday. I more and more find, that he who believeth doth not make haste; and that, if we will have patience, we shall find that every plant which our heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be plucked up. As I wrote to good Lady Huntingdon, so I write to you. I bless God for my stripping seasons. I have seen an end of all perfection, and expect it only in Him, in whom I am sure to find it, the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. He knows how I love and honour you and your brother, and how often I have preferred your interest to my own. This, by the grace of God, I shall continue to do. My reward is with the Lord. If He approves, it is enough. More might be said, were we face to face. When this will be, I cannot tell. Several things, especially our design of building a new Tabernacle, which I hope will succeed, detain me in town this winter. God only knows what course I am to steer in the spring. I would be a blank: let my heavenly Father fill it up as seemeth Him good.

“I am glad you are with our elect lady. O how amiable is a truly catholic spirit! Lord, make us all partakers of it more and more! I beg the continuance of your prayers. I need them much. You shall have mine in return. That you and yours may increase with all the increase of God, is the earnest request of, my dear friend,

“Yours, etc.,

“George Whitefield.”

On the same day, Whitefield wrote as follows to the Countess of Huntingdon, with whom Charles Wesley was staying:—

“I shall observe your ladyship’s hints about Mr. Wesley. I believe our visits will not be very frequent.312 But I am easy, having no scheme, no design of supplanting or resenting, but, I trust, a single eye to promote the common salvation, without so much as attempting to set up a party for myself. This is what my soul abhors. Being thus minded, I have peace; peace which the world knows nothing of, and which all must necessarily be strangers to, who are fond either of power or numbers. God be praised for the many strippings I have met with! It is good for me that I have been supplanted, despised, censured, maligned, and separated from my nearest, dearest friends. By this, I have found the faithfulness of Him, who is the Friend of friends. By this, I have been taught to wrap myself in the glorious Emmanuel’s everlasting righteousness, and to be content that He, to whom all hearts are open, now sees, and will let all see hereafter, the uprightness of my intentions towards all mankind.”

It is unpleasant to end the year with a note of discord; but it cannot honestly be avoided.

For the present, Whitefield had one enjoyment, which was almost new to him. He was no longer harassed with literary persecution. The only exception was an 8vo. pamphlet of fifty-one pages, entitled “Candid Remarks on some particular passages in the fifth edition of the Rev. Mr. Whitefield’s Volume of Sermons, printed in the year 1750. In a Letter to a Gentleman. Reading, 1752.” The author, in a gentlemanly way, criticizes some of Whitefield’s doctrines, especially that of “imputed righteousness;” and concludes by saying, though “a zeal for God appears throughout the whole of Whitefield’s performance,” yet “his method of treating his subject, and his manner of dictating to his audience, have something in them that may probably work upon the passions, but can never improve the understanding; that may occasion them to affect a superficial appearance of piety, but can hardly incite in them the power; and may induce them to acquiesce so much in the imputative righteousness of Christ, as to forget that they themselves are to be righteous, and ready to every good work, which is an indispensable part of the covenant of grace.”

One of Whitefield’s first anxieties, in 1753, was to sell his plantation in South Carolina. Writing to a friend there, on January 7, he says: “By this conveyance, I send you a power of attorney to dispose of Providence plantation. I leave it to your discretion to sell at what price you please. I would only observe, that I had rather it should be sold for less than its real value, than to keep it any longer in my hands. I do not choose to keep two families longer than is necessary. The money you receive from Providence will be immediately wanted to buy more land, and to pay for opening Bethesda’s new plantation.”

Another was the erection of a new Tabernacle. The wooden meeting-house, in Moorfields, had now stood the storms of a dozen winters. At the best, it was but a huge, ugly shed; and, of course, signs of decay were becoming visible. Still, the uncouth fabric was a sacred one. Many were the mighty sermons preached by Whitefield beneath its roof; and countless were the blessings which had fallen upon its crowds of worshippers. A more durable edifice, however, was greatly needed; and, in the summer of 1751, while at Lady Huntingdon’s residence at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, the project had been discussed, in the presence of her ladyship, Doddridge, Hervey, Hartley, and Stonehouse, all of whom were “most cordial in their approval and promise of support.” Towards the end of 1752, the subject was renewed at the house of Lady Frances Shirley, in South Audley Street; and, in compliance with the urgent entreaties of her ladyship and of the Countess of Huntingdon, Whitefield now began to exert himself in collecting money. He resolved not to begin building till he had £1000 in hand.313 That amount he soon obtained; the first brick was laid on the 1st of March, 1753; and, within fifteen weeks afterwards, the structure was opened for public worship; the congregations, during that interval, still continuing to assemble in the wooden tabernacle, which was left standing within the shell of the building in course of erection.314 The new Tabernacle needs no description; for, though a third has within the last few years been built upon its site, there are thousands still living who have often gazed with reverence at the low, unpretentious edifice where Whitefield so often mounted his pulpit throne, and not a few who found salvation within its walls. It will frequently be mentioned in ensuing extracts from Whitefield’s letters.315

There was a third affair, in which Whitefield, at this period, took, perhaps, a more active interest than was necessary. Within the last four years, the Moravians had made themselves more prominent than was consistent with Christian modesty. It was not until the year 1737, that the first Moravian services were held in England. Since then, several of their Societies had been torn by faction. In many instances, they had been the subjects of bitter persecution. Many of their religious rites were silly and objectionable. Their hymns and their literature were, to a great extent, jargon, luscious and irreverent. But, despite all, they had increased in numbers; and, above all, they had at their head an ambitious German count, who had considerable influence in the court of the German who then sat on the British throne. Count Zinzendorf, in 1749, had succeeded in getting the English parliament to pass a bill to the following effect: 1. That the Moravians were an ancient Protestant Episcopal Church. 2. That those of them who scrupled to take an oath, should be exempted doing so, on making a declaration in the presence of Almighty God, as witness of the truth. 3. That they should not be liable to serve upon juries. 4. That, in the colonies, they should be exempted from military service, under reasonable conditions. 5. That the verbal declaration of the individual, together with the certificate of a bishop or minister of the Brethren, should be regarded as sufficient proof of membership in the Moravian community. Besides this, the Count was no longer satisfied with “hired lodgings,” in Bloomsbury Square, for “the Congregation House,” but, in 1751, removed to James Hutton’s house and two adjoining ones, in Westminster. The premises were large and pleasant, overlooking the Abbey Gardens; but even they were not good enough to serve as the offices of a body, on whose behalf the whole machinery of parliamentary legislation had been set in motion. Accordingly, the Count bought, of Sir Hans Sloane, a large mansion, in Chelsea, formerly the property of the ducal family of Ancaster, with beautiful grounds bordering on the Thames. In connection with this imposing “Congregation House,” a chapel was fitted up, and a burial ground laid out. These were costly proceedings; and the result of parliamentary negotiations, the purchase of Lindsey House, Chelsea, and other expenditures, was, Count Zinzendorf and the Moravians in England were in debt to the amount of nearly £140,000, and knew not how to pay it.

As will soon be seen, these facts, put in the briefest form possible, and others, which might be mentioned, induced Whitefield, both privately and publicly, to censure the proceedings of his old friends, the Unitas Fratrum.

Whitefield’s plantation at Bethesda, in Georgia, and his slave-cultivated plantation in Carolina, made him anxious. The latter he wished to sell, because, despite all his expectations, it had failed to afford him help in his benevolent designs. Hence the following:—

“London, February 1, 1753.

“I am glad to hear that Ephratah plantation316 is in some degree opened, and, thereby, a preparation made for future progress. Mr. Fox’s not coming, and going upon lumber, has been a great loss to my poor family; but I hope, ere now, all is settled, and the sowing carried on with vigour. That seems to be the thing which Providence points out at present. As so many negroes are ready, it will be a pity if Bethesda does not do something, as well as the neighbouring planters. If I were not erecting a large place for public worship, eighty feet square, I would come over immediately myself; but, perhaps, it will be best to stay till the new governor embarks, or to come a little before him.

“With this, I send your brother a power to dispose of Providence plantation. I hope to hear shortly that you have purchased more negroes. My dear friend, do exert yourself a little for me in this time of my absence. I trust the Orphan-house affairs will soon be so ordered, that no one will be troubled respecting them, but my own domestics. As Nathaniel P―― has behaved so faithfully, I have sent him a full power, in conjunction with Mrs. W――, to act under you. The man and woman who bring this, are, with their son, indentured to me; and I have an excellent schoolmistress, and a young student, engaged to come over shortly. Before long, I suppose, we shall have a large family. Lord, grant it may be a religious one! I would have nothing done to the buildings, besides repairing the piazza, and what else is absolutely necessary, till I come. Perhaps I may bring a carpenter with me, who will stay some years.

“I cannot tell what induces me to take care of a place, where the gospel is so little regarded, unless it be a principle of faith. What a difference is there between Georgia and several parts of England! Here, thousands and tens of thousands run, and ride miles upon miles, to hear the gospel. There—but I do not love to think of it. I see there is no happiness but in keeping near to Jesus Christ.”

The next, addressed to Lady Huntingdon, refers to the Moravians at Lindsey House, Chelsea, and to the collections for Whitefield’s new Tabernacle.

“London, February 9, 1753.

“I am apt to believe that the Moravians’ scheme will soon be disconcerted. Strange! Why do God’s children build Babels? Why do they flatter themselves that God owns and approves of them, because He suffers them to build high? In mercy to them, such buildings, of whatever kind, must come down.

“I hope our intended Tabernacle is not of this nature. It would have pleased your ladyship to have seen how willingly the people gave last Lord’s-day. At seven in the morning, we collected £50; in the evening, £126. We have now near £900 in hand. Our Lord still continues to work in our old despised place. I trust it has been a Bethel to many, many souls. This, your ladyship knows, may be anywhere. Clifton is a Bethel when God is there.”

The following seems to have been written to Grimshaw, of Haworth, and refers to Gillies’ preparation of his “Historical Collections,” respecting revivals. Grimshaw complied with Whitefield’s suggestion; but his long letter, being too late to be inserted in Gillies’ bulky volumes, was not published till 1761, when it found a place in the “Appendix to the Historical Collections,” a 12mo. book of 250 pages, and now extremely rare.

“London, February 19, 1753.

“Reverend and very dear Sir,—At present, I have a cold and fever upon me; but I preach on, hoping one day or another to die in my work. We have had a blessed winter. Many have been added to our flock. Next week, I intend to lay the first brick of our new Tabernacle. I am looking up for direction about my removal. Which are the best seasons for the north? I should be glad to know speedily.

“Have you the first account you wrote of your conversion? Or have you leisure to draw up a short narrative of the rise and progress of the work of God in your parts? A dear Christian minister, in Scotland, is about to publish two volumes, relative to the late awakenings in various places. Such things should be transmitted to posterity; in heaven, all will be known. Thanks be to God, that there is such a rest remaining for His people! I am too impatient to get at it; but who can help longing to see Jesus? I wish you much, yea, very much prosperity. I am glad you have received the books. I am now publishing two more sermons, and a small collection of hymns for public worship.”

Whitefield’s hymn-book was entitled “Hymns for Social Worship, collected from various Authors, and more particularly designed for the use of the Tabernacle congregation in London. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon. London: printed by William Strahan, and to be sold at the Tabernacle, near Moorfields. 1753.” (16mo. 144 pp.)

The hymns are a hundred and seventy in number, besides several short doxologies. At least twenty-one of them are hymns by John and Charles Wesley. The largest number are by Watts. Most of the others were written by Cennick, Seagrave, Hammond, and Humphreys. Mr. Daniel Sedgwick, a high authority on such a subject, says, between the years 1753 and 1796, Whitefield’s hymn-book passed through thirty-six editions, a good number of them containing additions to the hymns published in 1753. Want of space renders it impossible to give a minute description of Whitefield’s collection; but the following preface is too characteristic to be omitted:—

“Courteous Reader,—If thou art acquainted with the divine life, I need not inform thee that, although all the acts and exercises of devotion are sweet and delightful, yet we never resemble the blessed worshippers above more than when we are joining together in public devotions, and, with hearts and lips unfeigned, singing praises to Him who sitteth upon the throne for ever. Consequently, hymns, composed for such a purpose, ought to abound much in thanksgiving, and to be of such a nature, that all who attend may join in them, without being obliged to sing lies, or not sing at all.

“Upon this plan, the following collection of hymns is founded. They are intended purely for social worship, and so altered, in some particulars, that I think all may safely concur in using them. They are short, because I think three or four stanzas, with a doxology, are sufficient to be sung at one time. I am no great friend to long sermons, long prayers, or long hymns. They generally weary, instead of edifying, and, therefore, I think, should be avoided by those who preside in any public worshipping assembly. Besides, as the generality of those who receive the gospel are commonly the poor of the flock, I have studied cheapness, as well as conciseness. Much in a little is what God gives us in His word; and the more we imitate such a method, in our public performances and devotions, the nearer we come up to the pattern given us in the Mount.

“I think myself justified in publishing some hymns, by way of dialogue, for the use of the Society, because something like it is practised in our cathedral churches, but much more so because the celestial choir is represented, in the Book of the Revelation, as answering one another in their heavenly anthems.

“That we all may be inspired and warmed with a like divine fire, whilst singing below, and be translated, after death, to join with them in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb above, is the earnest prayer of, courteous reader,

“Thy ready servant, for Christ’s sake,

“G. W.”

The publication of Whitefield’s hymn-book was, doubtless, owing to the erection of his new Tabernacle; but it is somewhat singular, that, in the same year, Wesley published his “Hymns and Spiritual Songs, intended for the use of real Christians of all Denominations;” and that, in the year following, the Moravians published two volumes, of 380 and 399 pages respectively, with the title, “A Collection of Hymns for the Children of God of all Ages, from the beginning till now. Designed chiefly for the use of the Congregations in union with the Brethren’s Church.” The curious reader may speculate how far Whitefield’s little book led to the publication of the other two.

The “sermons,” mentioned in Whitefield’s foregoing letter, were entitled, “The true nature of beholding the Lamb of God, and Peter’s Denial of his Lord, opened and explained, in two Sermons, by George Whitefield, late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1753.” (12mo. 48 pp.) In the former of these sermons, there seems to be an unworthy fling at his friend Wesley. Whitefield ought to have known that Wesley never taught the possibility of any one attaining to a sinlessness equal to that of Christ; and yet he indulged in the following remarks:—

“There was no corruption in the heart of this immaculate Lamb of God for Satan’s temptations to lay hold on; but this property belongeth only to Him. For any of His followers, though arrived at the highest pitch of Christian perfection, much less for young converts, mere novices in the things of God, to presume that they either have arrived, or ever shall, while on this side of eternity, arrive at such a sinless state, argues such an ignorance of the spiritual extent of the moral law, of the true interpretation of God’s word, of the universal experience of God’s people in all ages, as well as of the remaining unmortified corruptions of their own desperately wicked and deceitful hearts, that I venture to tell the preachers and abettors of any such doctrine, however knowing they may be in other respects, they know not the true nature of gospel holiness, nor the completeness of a believer’s standing in the unspotted imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, as they ought to know, or as I trust they themselves, through Divine grace, will be made to know before they die. Surely, it is high time to awake out of this delusive dream! Pardon this short (would to God there was no occasion for adding), though too necessary, a digression.”

Whitefield, most assuredly, was in a “delusive dream,” if he thought such remarks applicable to Wesley.

It was now seventeen years since Whitefield preached his first sermon, and he lived to preach seventeen years after this. He was in the middle of his marvellous ministry. Numerous specimens of his early discourses have been already given; and it may be useful to furnish two extracts from the sermons now in question, to assist the reader in forming an idea of the great preacher’s style of address, at the present period of his life. The first is from the sermon on “Beholding the Lamb of God.”

“If you can bear to be spectators of such an awful tragedy, I must now entreat you to enter the garden of Gethsemane. But, stop! What is that we see? Behold the Lamb of God undergoing the most direful tortures of vindictive wrath! Of the people, even of His disciples, there is none with Him. Alas! was ever sorrow like unto that sorrow, wherewith His innocent soul was afflicted in this day of His Father’s fierce anger? Before He entered into this bitter passion, out of the fulness of His heart, He said, ‘Now is my soul troubled.’ But how is it troubled now? His agony bespeaks it to be ‘exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.’ It extorts sweat, yea, a bloody sweat. His face, His hands, His garments, are all stained with blood. It extorts strong cryings, and many tears. See how the incarnate Deity lies prostrate before His Father, who now laid on Him the iniquities of us all! See how He agonizes in prayer! Hark! Again and again He addresses His Father with an ‘if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!’ Tell me, ye blessed angels, tell me, Gabriel (or whatsoever thou art called), who wast sent from heaven in this important hour, to strengthen our agonizing Lord,—tell me, if ye can, what Christ endured in this dark and doleful night! And tell me, tell me what you yourselves felt, when you heard this same God-man, whilst expiring on the accursed tree, breaking forth into that dolorous, unheard-of expostulation, ‘My God, my God, why, or how hast Thou forsaken me?’ Were you not all struck dumb? And did not an awful silence fill heaven itself, when God the Father said unto His sword, ‘Sword, smite thy fellow!’ Well might nature put on its sable weeds. Well might the rocks rend, to shew their sympathy with a suffering Saviour. And well might the sun withdraw its light, as though shocked and confounded to see its Maker die.”

The next extract is from the sermon on “Peter’s Denial of his Lord,” and describes Peter repenting.

“Methinks I see him wringing his hands, rending his garments, stamping on the ground, and, with the self-condemned publican, smiting upon his breast. See how it heaves! O what piteous sighs and groans are those which come from the very bottom of his heart. Alas! it is too big to speak; but his tears, his briny, bitter, repenting tears, plainly bespeak this to be the language of his awakened soul. ‘Alas! where have I been? On the devil’s ground. With whom have I been conversing? The devil’s children. What is this that I have done? Denied the Lord of glory;—with oaths and curses, denied that I ever knew Him. And now whither shall I go? or where shall I hide my guilty head? I have sinned against light. I have sinned against repeated tokens of His dear, distinguishing, and heavenly love. I have sinned against repeated warnings, resolutions, promises, and vows. I have sinned openly in the face of the sun, and in the presence of my Master’s enemies; and, thereby, have caused His name to be blasphemed. How can I think of being suffered to behold the face of, much less to be employed by, the ever-blessed Jesus any more? O Peter! thou hast undone thyself. Justly mayest thou be thrown aside like a broken vessel. God be merciful to me a sinner!’”

Even if he had wished, John Wesley would have found it difficult to preach in a style like this. Let the taste be good or bad, there cannot be a doubt that, with Whitefield’s dramatic action and unequalled voice, the effect of such eloquence would be next to overpowering. We return to Whitefield’s correspondence.

One of the London ministers, who had been benefited by Whitefield’s ministry, was the Rev. Mr. Steward. He had been invited to the house of the Countess of Huntingdon to hear Whitefield preach, and had been one of the first converts there. His own preaching had become popular and successful, not only at her ladyship’s, but on Garlick Hill, where, among others saved by his instrumentality, was Mrs. Kent, at the age of a hundred and four. Mr. Steward’s career was suddenly ended,—an event which greatly affected Whitefield.317 In the following letter to Charles Wesley, he refers to this and other matters:—

“London, March 3, 1753.

“My dear Friend,—I thank you and your brother most heartily for the loan of the chapel. Blessed be God! the work goes on well. On Thursday morning” (March 1st), “the first brick of our new Tabernacle was laid with awful solemnity. I preached from Exodus xx. 24: ‘In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.’ Afterwards, we sung, and prayed for God’s blessing in all places, where His glorious name is recorded. The wall is now about a yard high. The building is to be eighty feet square. It is upon the old spot. We have purchased the house; and, if we finish what we have begun, we shall be rent-free for forty-six years. We have £1100 in hand. This, I think, is the best way to build.

“Mr. Steward’s death so affected me, that, when I met the workmen that night to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of building tabernacles. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued. Eighteen years have I been waiting for the coming of the Son of God; but I find we are immortal till our work is done. Oh that we may never live to be ministered unto, but to minister. Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was with him, till a few minutes before he slept in Jesus.

“I have good news from several parts. A door is opening at Winchester. Surely the little leaven will ferment till the whole kingdom be leavened. Even so, Lord Jesus, Amen!

“My poor wife has had another plunge. We thought she was taken with palsy; but, blessed be God, she is now recovering.”318

The next deserves insertion for its Christian admonition.

“London, March 10, 1753.

“My dear Mr. M――, I have preached at Spitalfields chapel twice.319 Both the Mr. Wesleys are agreed, as the younger brother writes me word, in answer to my letter. Let brotherly love continue. I do not like writing against anybody; but, I think, that wisdom which dwells with prudence should direct you not to fill Mr. Wesley’s people (who expect you will serve them) with needless jealousies. I hope to see the time when you will talk less of persons and things, and more of Jesus Christ. This, and this alone, can make and keep you steady in yourself, and extensively useful to others. I am glad you know when persons are justified. It is a lesson I have not yet learnt. There are so many stony-ground hearers, that I have determined to suspend my judgment, till I know the tree by its fruits.”

The following needs no explanation:—

“London, March 21, 1753.

“What is happening to the Moravians is no more than I have long expected, and spoken of to many friends. Their scheme is so antichristian, in almost every respect, that I am amazed the eyes of the English Brethren have not long since been opened, and the Babel stopped. But the glorious God generally suffers such buildings to go high, that their fall may be more conspicuous. May the builders rise (I mean as to spirituals) by their falls, and gain by their losses! This is all the harm I wish them. What a blessed thing it is to live and walk in the simplicity of the gospel! How happy is that man, who, being neither fond of money, numbers, nor power, goes on day by day without any other scheme than a general intention to promote the common salvation among people of all denominations! Will you pray that I may be thus minded?”

The erection of the new Tabernacle detained Whitefield in London longer than it was his custom to stay; but, in the month of April, he made a hurried visit to the city of Norwich, where, two years before, there had been the most disgraceful riots. James Wheatley, whom the Wesleys had expelled from their connexion, for infamous behaviour, had come to Norwich, begun to preach out of doors, and formed a mongrel society of nearly two thousand persons. A temporary Tabernacle was erected for him on Timber Hill, in imitation of the one erected for Whitefield in Moorfields. Then followed the riots. Wheatley braved the storm; and, in April, 1752, steps were taken to build for him one of the largest chapels in the city.320 The history of the entire movement is curious, but not edifying. Why Whitefield went to Norwich, it is difficult to tell. An account of his visit is contained in the following short extracts from his letters:—

“Norwich, April 17, 1753. Were it not sinful, I could wish for a thousand hands, a thousand tongues, and a thousand lives: all should be employed, night and day, without ceasing, in promoting the glory of Jesus. Thanks be to His great name, for reviving His work in the midst of the years. I trust that His people everywhere will be made to sing, ‘The winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.’ For these three days past, I have been preaching here twice a day. In the mornings, we have been quiet; but, in the evenings, the sons of Belial have been somewhat rude. The place built here for public worship is much larger than yours at Newcastle; and, I believe, hundreds of truly awakened souls attend. What cannot God do? What will the end of this be? The destruction of Jericho. The rams’ horns must go round, till its towering walls fall down. Who would not be one of these rams’ horns? My dear sir, let us not be ashamed of the cross of Christ: it is lined with love, and will ere long be exchanged for a crown. Jesus Himself will put it on our heads.”

“Norwich, April 18, 1753. How does God delight to exceed the hopes, and to disappoint the fears, of His weak, though honest-hearted people! In spite of all opposition, He has caused us to triumph even in Norwich. Thousands attend twice every day, and hear with the greatest eagerness. I hope it will appear yet more and more that God has much people here.”

Whitefield returned to London on April 21st; and, for the next three weeks, was employed, not only in preaching, but in writing. The following letter deserves attention. It was addressed to David Taylor—said to have been originally footman to Lady Ingham—a good man, but unsettled, part Moravian, part Methodist, and part Inghamite—who, by his preaching, had converted large numbers of the people in Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Lancashire, and Yorkshire, and had formed Societies in the several counties.

“London, May 1, 1753.

“My dear David,—Do you enquire where I am? I answer, in London, longing to come to Leeds, and yet withheld by Him, whose providence ordereth all things well. Let us have a little more patience, and then, in a few weeks, I hope to have a blessed range in the north. The word ran and was glorified at Norwich. Preaching so frequently, and riding hard, almost killed me; but what is my body in comparison of precious and immortal souls?

“At present, I am engaged in a very ungrateful work; I mean, in writing against the leading Moravian Brethren. When you see it, you will know whether there was not a cause.”

Whitefield’s pamphlet was published without delay, and was entitled, “An Expostulatory Letter, addressed to Nicholas Lewis, Count Zinzendorf, and Lord Advocate of the Unitas Fratrum. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1753.” (8vo. 19 pp.) The letter is dated, “London, April 24, 1753;” and bears on the title-page the text, “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?”

Perhaps it ought to be premised that a great sensation had been already created in the country, by the publication of an octavo pamphlet of 177 pages, dedicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and entitled, “A candid Narrative of the Rise and Progress of the Hernhuthers, commonly called Moravians, or Unitas Fratrum. By Henry Rimius, Aulic Counsellor to his late Majesty the King of Prussia.” Rimius’s book was a terrible attack on Zinzendorf; and now Whitefield, wisely or unwisely, rushed into the affray. His letter begins thus:—

“My Lord,—Although I am persuaded that nothing has a greater tendency to strengthen the hands of infidels than the too frequent altercations between the professors of Christianity, yet there are certain occasions wherein the necessary defence of the principles of our holy religion, as well as the practice of it, renders public remonstrance of the greatest use and importance.

“For many years past, I have been a silent and an impartial observer of the progress and effects of Moravianism, both in England and America; but such shocking things have been lately brought to our ears, and offences have swollen to such an enormous bulk, that a real regard for my king and my country, and a disinterested love for the ever-blessed Jesus, will not suffer me to be silent any longer. Pardon me, therefore, my lord, if I am constrained to inform your lordship that you, together with some of your leading brethren, have been unhappily instrumental in misguiding many simple, honest-hearted Christians; of distressing, if not totally ruining, numerous families; and of introducing a whole farrago of superstitious, not to say idolatrous, fopperies into the English nation.”

Having asserted that, whatever might be “the principles and usages of the ancient Moravian Church,” he can find no trace of the present practices of the Moravians in the primitive churches, Whitefield continues:—

“Will your lordship give me leave to descend to a few particulars? Pray, my lord, what instances have we of the first Christians walking round the graves of their deceased friends on Easter Day, attended with hautboys, trumpets, French horns, violins, and other kinds of musical instruments? Or where have we the least mention made of pictures of particular persons being brought into the first Christian assemblies, and of candles being placed behind them, in order to give a transparent view of the figures? Where was it ever known that the picture of the apostle Paul, representing him handing a gentleman and lady up to the side of Jesus Christ, was ever introduced into the primitive lovefeasts? Or do we ever hear of incense, or something like it, being burnt for him, in order to perfume the room before he made his entrance among the brethren? And yet your lordship knows this has been done for you, and suffered by you, without your having shewn, as far as I can hear, the least dislike of it at all.

“Again, my lord, I beg leave to enquire whether we hear anything in Scripture of eldresses or deaconnesses seating themselves before a table covered with artificial flowers, and against that a little altar surrounded with wax tapers, on which stood a cross, composed either of mock or real diamonds, or other glittering stones? And yet your lordship must be sensible, this was done in Fetter Lane chapel, for Mrs. Hannah Nitschmann, the present general eldress of your congregation, with this addition, that all the sisters were seated in German caps, and clothed in white, and the organ also illuminated with three pyramids of wax tapers, each of which was tied with a red ribbon, and over the head of the general eldress was placed her own picture, and over that (horresco referens) the picture of the Son of God. A goodly sight this, my lord, for a company of English Protestants to behold! Alas! to what a long series of childish and superstitious devotions, and unscriptural impositions must they have been habituated, before they could sit as silent spectators of such an anti-Christian scene!”

Besides this general onslaught on Moravian ritualism, Whitefield, in foot-notes, ridicules the absurdity of the “married women” of the Moravian community “being ordered to wear blue knots; the single women, pink; those who are just marriageable, pink and white; widows past child-bearing, white; and those who were not so, blue and white.” He also describes a ludicrous, or rather theatrical and repulsive scene, in Hatton Garden, at the celebration of the birthday of Hannah Nitschmann; and then proceeds to the subject of Moravian fraud and bankruptcy. He writes:—

“I have another question to propose to your lordship. Pray, my lord, did any of the apostles or leaders of the primitive churches ever usurp an authority, not only over people’s consciences, but properties, or draw in the members of their respective congregations to dispose of whole patrimonies at once, or to be bound for thousands more than they knew they were worth? And yet your lordship knows this has been done again and again, in order to serve the purposes of the Brethren; and that, too, at or very near the time, when, in order to procure an Act in their favour, they boasted to an English Parliament how immensely rich they were.”

Whitefield then specifies some of the Moravian debts; and concludes by speaking of the “horrid equivocations, untruths, and low artifices,” made use of to obtain such enormous loans:—

“At present,” says he, “I shall add no more, but earnestly say Amen to that part of the Brethren’s litany, ‘From untimely projects, and from unhappily becoming great, keep us, our good Lord and God!’ And as heartily praying, that the glorious Jesus may prosper all that is right, and give grace to correct and amend all that is wrong, among all His people of all denominations, I subscribe myself, my lord, your lordship’s most obedient humble servant,

“George Whitefield.”

This was plain speaking. Perhaps some will think that Whitefield’s interference was offensively officious; but it must be borne in mind, that, besides being bound to take a general interest in everything pertaining to the religion of the land, Whitefield was closely associated with the Moravians at the beginning of his ministry; and that, in his extensive itinerancy, he still came into frequent contact with them. And, further, though it may be still contended that Whitefield might have been more usefully employed, there cannot be a doubt that he now rendered a great and lasting service to the Moravian community; for his letter to Zinzendorf helped to check and to correct the extravagance and the absurdly ritualistic practices, into which the Unitas Fratrum had fallen.

Whitefield’s “letter” created almost as great a sensation as Rimius’s “Narrative”; and, in whole or in part, was reprinted in the magazines and newspapers of the day. The Moravians were angry. Peter Bohler declared publicly, in the pulpit, that Whitefield’s letter “was all a lie.” James Hutton spoke of “many bulls of Bashan roaring madly against the Count; and describing him as a Mahomet, a Cæsar, an impostor, a Don Quixote, a devil, the beast, the man of sin, the Antichrist.”321 He also sent the following threatening letter “to the publisher of the Public Advertiser”:—

“Saturday, June 2, 1752.

“You, sir, have published such an extract of Mr. Whitefield’s libel in your paper, as is punishable by law; which example of yours the country newspapers and the London magazines have followed.

“I would have you immediately consider well, whether you are liable or no; and, if you find yourself so, to let me know what steps you think to take to avoid a prosecution.

“A submission in the Public Advertiser, next Monday, expressing your sorrow for having published that extract (without at all entering into the merits of the cause, whether true or false), and asking pardon of the persons reflected on therein, seems to me the best and only way of preventing that prosecution, which else, in all probability, will very soon begin.

“I am, sir, yours,

“James Hutton.”

A similar letter was sent to the publisher of the Daily Gazetteer. The Archbishop of Canterbury, likewise, received an anonymous epistle, not written, but made up of words, taken out of printed books, of different types, and pasted upon a sheet of paper:—

“My Lord,—Our Moravian Church having subsisted above 1700 years, and you being the chief of a Church, which is her puny sister, your Grace ought not to suffer that villain Rimius publicly to vilify our right reverend and valuable patron and us. The man is quite stupid, else he would have known that he, being but a single person, and deeply in debt, can do us no hurt. We are a multitude, a parliamentary constitution, a church that stands upon a rock, and have treasures inexhaustible, and can hold out against him, and all the rest of our enemies. But we shall soon make him flee his country; or he shall meet with a fate which he scarce expects.”322

Bohler and Zinzendorf both wrote to Whitefield; and, as their letters are of historical importance, they are here given in extenso:—

“May 8, 1753.

“Sir,—I pity you very much that you suffer yourself to be so much imposed on, and to print your impositions so inconsiderately.

“You have now attempted a second time to ruin my character. You represent me as the inventor of an artificial mount,323 etc. You build upon that, two assertions: 1. That I invented it as a means to encourage a certain gentleman in his undertakings. 2. That I did it to make up a quarrel with him, by these means. Now I can attest, with a good conscience, before God, that I had no hand in inventing, or contriving, or executing, etc., such an artificial mound and picture, etc.; and both your conclusions, that you build on it, drop of course.

“You also assert, that, I and others paid our devotions in a certain room, of which you please to give a description; but you really are in this point also grossly imposed upon. By whom? By an apostate!

“The person against whom you chiefly level your letter, is so maliciously misrepresented therein, that really you yourself will be ashamed of it one day before God and man. It would have been ingenuous in you to have asked some of your old friends, whether the charges you lay against us be true. But that, you have not done. You will perhaps say to me, ‘You can clear yourself in print.’ But this sounds, in my ears, as if a drunken man would pelt one with dirt, and then say, ‘Now I will shew you water where you can wash yourself again.’ I, for my part, have always abhorred paper war; for I think the result of such a war, for a child of God, is no other than vinco seu vincor, semper ego maculor (conquering or conquered, I am dishonoured). And, besides that, I think it incumbent upon an honest man, when he rashly and heedlessly has cast an aspersion upon his fellow-creatures—fathered actions upon an innocent person of whom he was altogether ignorant—and, with the most prejudicial assertions, charged a body of people with faults of which they, neither in whole nor in part, are guilty—to do all in his power to remove such aspersions of which he is the author or propagator.

“Dear Mr. Whitefield, when the secret intentions of man, together with all his unjust deeds and actions, will be judged, how glad would you be then, not to have treated our Society, in general; and, in particular, that venerable person against whom your letter is chiefly levelled; and poor me, in so injurious, yea, I may say, impudent and wicked a manner.

“But, perhaps, my dear and merciful Saviour may give you grace, that I may, a second time, be asked pardon by you; which I, for your sake, heartily desire; but, for my sake, am entirely unconcerned about; who, as an unworthy servant of my dear Lord Jesus Christ, who was slain for His enemies, shall continue to love and pray for you.

“Peter Bohler.”

To say the least, this is an odd, evasive letter, unworthy of the man who had taught the Wesleys the way of salvation by faith in Jesus Christ. Zinzendorf’s is no better:—

“May 8, 1753.

“Rev. Sir,—As I read no newspapers, I knew nothing of your ‘Expostulatory Letter,’ till a worthy clergyman of the Church of England communicated to me his copy but yesterday.

“You are a preacher, I suppose, of Christ; therefore, though you are, it seems, an utter stranger to me, you may guess why you see no reply to your letter.

“In private, I tell you so much, that you are mistaken in the chief point you urge with more zeal than knowledge.

“As yet, I owe not a farthing of the £40,000 you are pleased to tell me of; and, if your precipitate officiousness should save me and those foreigners, you forewarn so compassionately, from that debt, your zeal would prove very fatal to the English friends you pity, it seems, no less than the German.

“As for the distinction in the dress of our women, pray consider that St. Paul has thought it worth his while to make certain regulations about the head-dress; and you may remain more quiet, as you have no notion what our ordinances are.

“If some brethren, in their Easter Liturgy, make use of French-horns, (which they are to answer for, not I, for my chapel has none,) let the synod consider of it.

“I have not seen the pamphlet you tell us of. It is dedicated to the Archbishop, you say. If the author got the permission of his Grace fairly, then the thing is serious indeed; yet, I shall have nothing to say to Mr. Rimius.

“I make but one observation for your good, sir. Are you sure that all the quotations out of the Bible are true? If so, is it possible that the interpretations, which some eighty different sects of Christians give to the passages in which they oppose each other, can be the true meaning of the author? Are all those which are made out of your own books to be depended upon? For my own part, I find that the single passage you borrow from Mr. Rimius is an imposition upon the public, as gross as if St. Paul, when he says, ‘We have but one God the Father,’ etc., should be charged with denying the divinity of Jesus. As thousands of our people are satisfied, that I oppose that meaning of the said quotation, with all my credit in the Church; and have supported my opposition, with all my substance and that of my family, above these thirty years; and will continue so long as I have a shirt left; what must they think when they see my book quoted in that manner?324 I add no more.

“As your heart is not prepared to love me, nor your understanding to listen to my reasons, I wish you well, sir, and am your loving friend,

“Louis.”325

These were unsatisfactory and discreditable letters, and not at all an answer to Whitefield’s charges. The truth is, a satisfactory answer was impossible. There can be no question, that the Moravians had begun to practise a ritualism the most silly; and that their expenditure had brought them to the very verge of bankruptcy and disgraceful ruin.326

It would be wearisome and unprofitable to pursue the subject. Suffice it to say, that, in the month of November, 1753, a pamphlet, of forty-three pages, was published with the following uncouth title: “He who is a Minister of the Gospel, and highly esteems the Sufferings of the Lamb, his Introduction to the Method or Way of the Evangelical Church of the Brethren in dealing with Souls. To which is prefixed, A short Answer to Mr. Rimius’s long uncandid Narrative. And a Lesson for Mr. Whitefield to read before his Congregation.” The bulk of the pamphlet was a translation of Zinzendorf’s German treatise, entitled, “Method with Souls,” etc., and requires no attention; but that section of it which relates to Whitefield may be quoted:—

“If Mr. Whitefield had been more acquainted with the customs of the primitive Christians, he need not have asked, ‘Did the primitive Christians visit the graves of the deceased?’

“As to the illuminations, they are no part of the worship, and cannot concern him.

“As to their debts, he has no business to trouble himself about them. He will never be asked to pay them; for he, among the Brethren, to whom the Lord has been most bountiful, has taken upon himself to discharge them.

“As his intelligence has been from such as St. Paul distinguishes by the name of false brethren, any man, possessed of common sense, may know what regard it deserves.

“One fault among the Brethren is, that they do not abound with charity sermons, and look sharp after the plate, as is done he knows where and by whom.

“By this time, I doubt not, Mr. Whitefield is able to answer his own queries; and, I hope, wishes he had taken Paul’s advice to Timothy: ‘Foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing that they do gender strifes.’”

On the other side, there was published a pamphlet, whose title will convey an idea of its contents:—“A true and authentic Account of Andrew Frey; containing the occasion of his coming among the Hernhuters, or Moravians; his Observations on their Conferences, Casting Lots, Marriages, Festivals, Merriments, Celebrations of Birth-days, Impious Doctrines, and Fantastic Practices, Abuse of Charitable Contributions, Linen Images, Ostentatious Profuseness, and Rancour against any who in the least differ from them; and the Reasons for which he left them; together with the Motives for publishing this Account. Faithfully translated from the German.”327

All this disreputable contention prepared the way for Bishop Lavington to publish, two years afterwards, his “Moravians Compared and Detected.” (8vo. 180 pp.)

It is time to return to Whitefield’s gospel wanderings, and correspondence.

About the middle of the month of May, he left London for a tour in Wales, and made “a circuit of about seven hundred miles.”328 He preached above twenty times, at Narberth, Pembroke, Haverfordwest, and other places; and was again in London on the 7th of June. The Moravian controversy filled his mind and crushed his heart. To his old secretary, John Syms, who had joined the Moravians, and who had basely threatened a revelation of some of Whitefield’s secret affairs, he wrote:—

“Haverfordwest, May 27, 1753.

“My dear Man,—Though my wife has not forwarded the letter, she says you have sent me a threatening one. I thank you for it, though unseen, and say unto thee, if thou art thus minded, ‘What thou doest, do quickly.’ Blessed be God, I am ready to receive the most traitorous blow, and to confess, before God and man, all my weaknesses and failings, whether in public or private life. I laid my account of such treatment, before I published my ‘Expostulatory Letter.’ Your writing in such a manner convinces me more and more, that Moravianism leads men to break through the most sacred ties of nature, friendship, and disinterested love.

“My wife says, you write, that, ‘I am drunk with power and approbation.’ Wast thou with me so long, my dear man, and hast thou not known me better? What power didst thou know me ever to grasp at? or, what power am I now invested with? None, that I know of, except that of being a poor pilgrim. As for approbation, God knows, I have had little else besides the cross to glory in, since my first setting out. May that be my glory still!

“My wife says, you write, that ‘I promised not to print.’ I remember no such thing. I know you advised me not to do so, but I know of no promise made. If I rightly remember, I had not then read Rimius; but, after that, I both heard and saw so many things, that I could not, with a safe conscience, be silent.

“My wife says, you write, ‘the bulk of my letter is not truth.’ So says Mr. Peter Bohler; nay, he says, ‘it is all a lie;’ and, I hear, he declares so in the pulpit; so that, whether I will or not, he obliges me to clear myself in print. If he goes on in this manner, he will not only constrain me to print a third edition, but also to publish a dreadful heap that remains behind. My answers to him, the Count, and my old friend Hutton, are almost ready. I cannot send them this post, but may have time before long.

“O, my dear man, let me tell thee, that the God of truth and love hates lies. That cause can never be good, that needs equivocations and falsehoods to support it. You shall have none from me. I have naked truth. I write out of pure love. The Lord Jesus only knows what unspeakable grief I feel, when I think how many of my friends have so involved themselves. If anything stops my pen, it will be concern for them, not myself. I value neither name nor life itself, when the cause of God calls me to venture both. Thanks be to His great name, I can truly say, that, for many years past, no sin has had dominion over me; neither have I slept with the guilt of any known, unrepented sin lying upon my heart.

“I wish thee well in body and soul, and subscribe myself, my dear John, your very affectionate, though injured, friend for Christ’s sake,

“George Whitefield.”

To another friend, Whitefield wrote as follows:—

“London, June 8, 1753.

“Mr. S―― can tell you what concern the Brethren’s awful conduct has given me. Surely, if the Redeemer had not supported me, I should, within these two months, have died of grief. But I will say no more; Jesus knows all things. He will not long bear with guile. I and the Messrs. Wesley are very friendly. I like them, because they let the world see what they are at once. I suspect something wrong, when so much secresy is required.”

Two days after writing this, Whitefield opened his new Tabernacle, on which occasion he preached, in the morning, from Solomon’s prayer at the dedication of the temple; and, in the evening, from 1 Chron. xxix. 9: “Then the people rejoiced, for that they offered willingly, because with perfect heart they offered willingly to the Lord: and David the king also rejoiced with great joy.” It is needless to add, that the building “was crowded almost to suffocation in every part.”329

The Tabernacle being built and opened, Whitefield felt himself at liberty to “take the field.” Accordingly, on June 20, he started off to Portsmouth, where he spent about a week. Having fulfilled his mission there, he set out for the north of England. He had “two good meetings” at Olney. At Northampton, “several thousands attended.” Leicester was “a cold place; but the people stood very attentive, and some were affected.” At Nottingham, “a great multitude came to hear, but a son of Belial endeavoured to disturb them.” At Sheffield, he had “two good meetings,” and a congregation “consisting of several thousands.” At Rotherham, “after preaching, a young man was set at liberty, who had been groaning under the spirit of bondage for four years.” At Leeds thousands attended daily; and, on the Lord’s-day, it was computed that near twenty thousand were present. At Birstal330 and Bradford, “many thousands flocked together.” “At York,” he says, “I preached four times; twice we were disturbed, and twice we had sweet seasons.” Thus did he preach all the way from London to Newcastle where he arrived on Saturday, July 14. Three days afterwards, he wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon:—

“Newcastle, July 17, 1753.

“I wrote to your ladyship just before I set out for Portsmouth, and thought to have written again at my return, but was hindered by staying only one night in London. Ever since, I have been on the range for lost sinners; and, blessed be God! I have been much owned by Him who delights to work by the meanest instruments. Sometimes I have scarce known whether I have been in heaven or on earth. I came hither on Saturday, and have preached seven times, and once at Sunderland, where a great multitude attended, and were deeply impressed. At five in the morning, the great room331 is filled; and, on the Lord’s-day, the congregation out of doors was great indeed. Surely the shout of a King has been amongst us. All is harmony and love. I am now going to a place called Sheep-hill, and shall return to preach here again in the evening. To-morrow I set forward to Scotland. This may be communicated to Mr. Charles Wesley, to whom I would write if I had time.”

The Scots’ Magazine for 1753 (p. 361) says:—

“Mr. George Whitefield arrived at Edinburgh July 20th; went thence to Glasgow on the 27th; returned to Edinburgh August 3rd; and set out for London on the 7th. He preached daily, morning and evening, when at Edinburgh, in the Orphan Hospital Park; and, when at Glasgow, in the Castle-yard, to numerous audiences. In his sermons at Glasgow, he declaimed warmly against a play-house, lately erected within the enclosure in which he preached. The consequence was, that, before his departure, workmen were employed to take it down, to prevent its being done by ruder hands.”

Whitefield went to Scotland, not with his usual buoyancy. Under date of “Edinburgh, July 21,” he wrote:—

“The inward discouragements I have felt against coming to Scotland have been many. I have left a people full of fire. Thousands and thousands flocked to hear the glorious gospel. I have heard of awakenings in every place. Saints have been revived, and heaven, as it were, has come down on earth. We have enjoyed perpetual Cambuslang seasons. My heart is quite broken to think poor Scotland is so dead.”

He, however, plunged into his work, and not without success. In another letter, dated “Glasgow, July 25, 1753,” he says:—

“Yesterday, I was enabled to preach five times, and, I suppose, the last time to near twenty thousand. At Edinburgh, I preached twice every day to many thousands, among whom were many of the noble and polite. Attention sits on the faces of all; and friends come round me, like so many bees, to importune me for one week’s longer stay in Scotland.”

As already stated, Whitefield started, from Edinburgh to London, on Tuesday, August 7th. On Wednesday, he preached at Berwick, and again on Thursday morning. On Thursday night, he arrived at Alnwick, and “it being the time of the races,” he preached on the words, “So run that ye may obtain.” He writes:—

“Whilst I was discoursing, the gentlemen came down from the race, and surrounded the congregation, and heard very attentively. The next morning, at five, I preached again; and, about noon, at a place called Placey; and, in the evening, about nine, at Newcastle, where a great number expected me, and my text was, ‘At midnight, a cry was made, Behold, the Bridegroom cometh.’”

On the Sunday following, he wrote to Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow:—

“I am to preach three times every day this week. This promise supports me—‘As thy day is, so shall thy strength be.’ By the enclosed, you will see the devil owes me a grudge for what was done at Glasgow. Would it not be proper to insert a paragraph to contradict it?”

Next day, August 13th, he wrote to another friend:—

“My route is now fixed. After preaching here” (Newcastle) “and hereabouts three times each day, I am to leave this place on Thursday; to be at Stockton on Sunday; at Osmotherley on Monday noon; lie at Topcliff, and reach York, by way of Boroughbridge, on Tuesday next; and then come forwards to Leeds.

“I could not finish this letter last night. It is now Tuesday morning. Surely heaven came down amongst us, under the last evening’s preaching. It was almost too much for my body. I must away to Horsley to preach, from whence I am to return here to preach again this evening. Thrice a day tries me, but in the Lord have I righteousness and strength. If you hear of a mob being raised, by my preaching, at Glasgow, assure your friends there was none; but Satan owes me a grudge for speaking against the play-house.”

It is important to bear in mind, that, at nearly all, if not actually all, the places in the north of England, where Whitefield preached, there were meeting-houses and Societies belonging to his friend Wesley. In truth, whatever might be the case in London, Whitefield, in the country, was Wesley’s fellow-labourer. There was no formal and avowed union between the two, and, on some important doctrines, they differed; but wherever Whitefield went, Wesley’s people were prepared to welcome him; and he was equally prepared to do them all the good he could.332 Osmotherley333 is mentioned in the foregoing extract. This was a small moorland village, quite out of Whitefield’s way to London, and difficult of access; but one of Wesley’s Societies had been formed even here, and they were about to erect a chapel. On no other ground, except that Whitefield, without professing it, was acting as Wesley’s lieutenant, is it possible to account for Whitefield’s visits to places like Osmotherley, Placey, Horsley, Sheephill, Stockton, and others which might be mentioned.

The mob at Glasgow has been named. The explanation is, the proprietor of a play-house was supposed to be so affected by Whitefield’s preaching, that he, at once, began to take down the roof of his edifice. Either through malice or misinformation, several of the newspapers of the day represented this as being done by a mob, under the exciting influence of Whitefield’s ministry.334 Whitefield had been so often mobbed himself, that he had no wish to be announced as allied to mobs. Hence, before he left Newcastle, he wrote the following letter, which was printed, by the publishers, in the Newcastle Journal:—

“Newcastle, August 17, 1753.

“Gentlemen,—By your last Saturday’s paper, I find that some Edinburgh correspondent has informed you, that, when I was preaching at Glasgow on the 2nd inst., to a numerous audience, near the play-house lately built, I inflamed the mob so much against it, that they ran directly from before me, and pulled it down to the ground; and that several of the rioters, since then, have been taken up, and committed to jail. But, I assure you, this is mere slander and misinformation. It is true, indeed, that I was preaching at Glasgow, to a numerous auditory, at the beginning of this month; and that I thought it my duty to shew the evil of having a play-house erected in a trading city—almost, too, before the very door of the university. And this, by the help of God, if called to it, I should do again. But that I inflamed the mob, or that they ran directly from me, and pulled the play-house down, or that the rioters were taken up and put into prison, is entirely false.

“I suppose all this took its rise from the builder taking down the roof of the house himself. You must know that the walls of this play-house were part of the old palace of the Bishop of Glasgow, and only had a board covering put upon them during the time of the players being there. They being gone, the owner (whether convinced by anything that was said, I cannot tell) began to take off the roof several days before I left that place; so that, if there had been any riot, doubtless I should have seen it.

“No, gentlemen, your correspondent may assure himself that I am too much a friend to my God, my king, and my country, to encourage any such thing. I know of no such means of reformation, either in church or state. The weapons of a Christian’s warfare are not carnal. And therefore, if you please to inform the public and your Edinburgh correspondent of the mistake, in to-morrow’s paper, you will oblige, Gentlemen,

“Your very humble servant,

“George Whitefield.”

On leaving Newcastle, Whitefield continued to visit towns and villages, where Wesley had formed Societies, and everywhere his gigantic labours were attended with marvellous success. The following extracts from two letters to the Countess of Huntingdon will convey an idea of the scenes he witnessed:—

“York, September 11, 1753.

“Last Saturday, I returned to Leeds, whence I had been absent a fortnight. What the glorious Emmanuel gave us to see and feel, is inexpressible. What a sacrament at Haworth! We used thirty-five bottles of wine on the occasion. I have been as far as Bolton, Manchester, and Stockport. At the last place, so much of the Divine presence came amongst us, that it was almost too much for our frail natures to bear. Everywhere the congregations looked like swarms of bees; and the more I preached, the more eager they seemed to be. At Birstal, last Lord’s-day, there were near twenty thousand; and, on Monday morning, the parting at Leeds was the most affecting I ever saw. Last night, I came hither, and preached with quietness. This morning, I am setting out for Lincolnshire. Besides travelling, I have been enabled to preach thrice a day frequently. I hear of scores of souls who have been awakened. They tell me that a hundred have been added to the Sunderland Society.335 Never did I see the work more promising. God be merciful to me a sinner, and give me an humble, thankful heart!”

“London, September 26, 1753.

“Yesterday, the good and never-failing Redeemer brought me and mine to London, where I expect to stay only a few days. During the last three months, I have been enabled to travel about twelve hundred miles, and to preach about one hundred and eighty sermons, to many, very many, thousands of souls. More glorious seasons I never saw. My last excursion has been to York, Lincolnshire, Rotherham, Sheffield, Nottingham, and Northampton, where, I believe, near ten thousand came to hear last Lord’s-day.”

Though Whitefield had built and opened his new Tabernacle, he was not inclined to “nestle” in it. Within ten days after his arrival in London, he resumed his itinerancy. On Saturday, October 6th, he had “a blessed season at Olney;” and, next day, “two glorious opportunities” at Northampton. On Monday, October 8th, he preached at Oxenden and Bosworth; on Tuesday, at Kettering and Bedford; and on Wednesday, at Bedford and Olney. He then set out for Staffordshire, and preached “at Birmingham and several adjacent places.” Three weeks after his departure from London, he wrote as follows:—

“Wolverhampton, October 27, 1753.

“My last, I think, was from Nantwich. Since then, I have been breaking up new ground.336 I have preached four times at Alpraham, in Cheshire, where the Lord was with us of a truth; and where He had prepared my way, by blessing several of my poor writings. At Chester, I preached four times; a great concourse attended; all was quiet;337 several of the clergy were present; and the word came with power. I have since heard that the most noted rebel in the town was brought under deep conviction, and could not sleep night or day. At Liverpool, the way was equally prepared. A person, who had been wrought on by some of my printed sermons, met me at landing, and took me to his house.338 A great number, at a short notice, were convened; all were quiet; and some came under immediate conviction. Wrexham has been a rude place; and, upon my coming there, the town was alarmed, and several thousands came to hear. Some of the baser sort made a great noise, and threw stones, but none touched me, and, I trust, our Lord got Himself the victory. The next day, near Alpraham, we had another heaven upon earth. The morning after, I intended to preach near Nantwich, where a Methodist meeting-house has lately been pulled down. Here Satan roared. The mob pelted Mr. D――339 and others much, but I got off pretty free, and had opportunity of preaching quietly a little out of town. Last night, I preached here, in the dark, to a great number of hearers. I am now bound for Wednesbury, Dudley, and Kidderminster.”

Eleven days after writing this, Whitefield had returned to London; but, two days afterwards, he was off to Gloucester, and the west of England. The following was addressed to the Rev. Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow, who had requested him to point out those parts of his Journals which it might be desirable to insert in the “Historical Collections,” then in course of preparation for the press:—

“Gloucester, November 16, 1753.

“Reverend and very dear Sir,—I received your kind letter, and would have sent the Journals immediately, but knew not how. My wife promised to embrace the first opportunity that offered; and I hope, ere long, they will come safe to hand. As for my pointing out particular passages, it is impracticable. I have neither leisure nor inclination so to do. My doings and writings appear to me in so mean a light, that I think they deserve no other treatment than to be buried in eternal oblivion.