Volume 2 — SEVENTH VISIT TO AMERICA. September, 1769, to September, 1770. (continued 2)
Reading edition
Whitefield’s will was written by himself, and signed, at the Orphan House, on March 22, 1770, in the presence of Robert Bolton, Thomas Dixon, and Cornelius Winter, as witnesses. It was proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, on February 5, 1771.700
When great men die, poets sing. So it was in the case of Whitefield. To say nothing of poems printed in newspapers and magazines, the following were a few of the elegies published separately: “Zion in Distress, an Elegy on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By W. S.” “The Bromsgrove Elegy, in blank verse, in which are represented the Subjects of his Ministry, his Manner of Preaching, the Success of his Labours, his excellent Moral Character, and his Death. By John Fellows, of Bromsgrove, in Worcestershire.” “An Elegy. By Jacob Rowel.” “An Elegy, exhibiting a brief History of the Life, Labours, and Glorious Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By T. Knight, Minister of the Gospel at Halifax.”701 “A Monody on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield.” “An Elegiac Poem, dedicated to the Memory of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By James Stevens, Preacher of the Gospel.” “Elegiac Lines. By Rev. Mr. De Courcy.”702 “A Pastoral. By the Rev. Walter Shirley.”703
All these were pious, and some of them respectable. The best published was by Whitefield’s oldest friend: “An Elegy on the late Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., who died September 30, 1770, in the 56th year of his age. By Charles Wesley, M.A., Presbyter of the Church of England. Bristol: 1771.” (8vo. 29 pp.) No one knew or loved Whitefield better than Charles Wesley did; and the following extracts from his “Elegy” may be acceptable:—
“And is my Whitefield enter’d into rest,
With sudden death, with sudden glory blest?
Left for a few sad moments here behind,
I bear his image on my faithful mind;
To future times the fair example tell
Of one who lived, of one who died, so well,
Pay the last office of fraternal love,
And then embrace my happier friend above.”
“Can I the memorable day forget,
When first we, by Divine appointment, met?
Where undisturb’d the thoughtful student roves,
In search of truth, through academic groves,
A modest, pensive youth, who mus’d alone,
Industrious the frequented path to shun:
An Israelite without disguise or art
I saw, I loved, and clasp’d him to my heart,
A stranger as my bosom friend carest,
And unawares receiv’d an angel-guest.”
“Through his abundant toils, with fixt amaze,
We see reviv’d the work of ancient days;
In his unspotted life, with joy we see
The fervours of primeval piety:
A pattern to the flock by Jesus bought,
A living witness of the truths He taught,—
He shew’d the man regenerate from above,
By fraudless innocence, and childlike love.
For friendship form’d by nature and by grace,
(His heart made up of truth and tenderness),
Stranger to guile, unknowing to deceive,
In anger, malice, or revenge to live,
Betwixt the mountain and the multitude,
His life was spent in prayer and doing good.”
“Though long by following multitudes admir’d,
No party for himself he e’er desir’d,
His one desire to make the Saviour known,
To magnify the name of Christ alone:
If others strove who should the greatest be,
No lover of pre-eminence was he,
Nor envied those his Lord vouchsaf’d to bless,
But joy’d in theirs as in his own success,
His friends in honour to himself preferr’d,
And least of all in his own eyes appear’d.”
“Single his eye, transparently sincere,
His upright heart did in his words appear,
His cheerful heart did in his visage shine;
A man of true simplicity divine,
Not always as the serpent wise, yet love
Preserv’d him harmless as the gentle dove;
Or if into mistake through haste he fell,
He shew’d what others labour to conceal;
Convinc’d, no palliating excuses sought,
But freely own’d his error, or his fault.”
“Shall I a momentary loss deplore,
Lamenting after him that weeps no more?
What though, forbid by the Atlantic wave,
I cannot share my old companion’s grave,
Yet, at the trumpet’s call, my dust shall rise,
With his fly up to Jesus in the skies,
And live with him the life that never dies.”
Charles Wesley often wrote more polished poetry than this, but his loving lines truthfully pourtray some of the features of Whitefield’s character, and, likewise, shew the profound affection which he cherished for his brother George.
Before leaving the poets, another extract may be welcome. There is no evidence to shew that Whitefield and William Cowper were personally acquainted, but John Newton and some other of Cowper’s friends were among Whitefield’s most ardent admirers; and, therefore, it is not surprising that Cowper should have enshrined the famous preacher in his poesy. Soon after Whitefield’s death, Cowper wrote his well-known poem, entitled “Hope,” in which Whitefield was graphically described as follows:—
“Leuconomus (beneath well-sounding Greek)
I slur a name a poet must not speak,
Stood pilloried on infamy’s high stage,
And bore the pelting scorn of half an age,
The very butt of slander, and the blot
For every dart that malice ever shot.
“The man that mention’d him, at once dismiss’d
All mercy from his lips, and sneer’d and hiss’d;
His crimes were such as Sodom never knew,
And Perjury stood up to swear all true;
His aim was mischief, and his zeal pretence,
His speech rebellion against common sense;
A knave, when tried on honesty’s plain rule,
And when by that of reason, a mere fool;
The world’s best comfort was, his doom was pass’d,
Die when he might, he must be damn’d at last.
“Now, Truth, perform thine office; waft aside
The curtain drawn by prejudice and pride,
Reveal (the man is dead) to wondering eyes
This more than monster in his proper guise.
“He loved the world that hated him; the tear
That dropp’d upon his Bible was sincere.
Assail’d by scandal and the tongue of strife,
His only answer was a blameless life,
And he that forged and he that threw the dart,
Had each a brother’s interest in his heart.
Paul’s love of Christ, and steadiness unbribed,
Were copied close in him, and well transcribed;
He follow’d Paul; his zeal a kindred flame,
His apostolic charity the same;
Like him, cross’d cheerfully tempestuous seas,
Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease;
Like him he labour’d, and, like him content
To bear it, suffer’d shame where’er he went.
“Blush, Calumny; and write upon his tomb,
If honest eulogy can spare thee room,
Thy deep repentance of thy thousand lies,
Which, aim’d at him, have pierced the offended skies;
And say, Blot out my sin, confess’d, deplored,
Against Thine image in Thy saint, O Lord!”
No higher eulogy on Whitefield than this of the poet Cowper can be properly pronounced. It elaborates that of the celebrated Rev. Benjamin Grosvenor, D.D., who, after listening to one of Whitefield’s sermons about the year 1741, remarked, “If the Apostle Paul had preached to this auditory, he would have preached in the same manner.”704
“If you should die abroad,” said Mr. Keen, “whom shall we get to preach your funeral sermon? Must it be your old friend the Rev. Mr. John Wesley?” This question was often put, and as often Whitefield answered, “He is the man.”705
The news of Whitefield’s death reached London on November 5.706 At the time, Wesley was at Norwich; but, five days afterwards, he wrote:—
“Saturday, November 10, 1770. I returned to London, and had the melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield’s death confirmed by his executors, who desired me to preach his funeral sermon on Sunday, the 18th.707 In order to write this, I retired to Lewisham on Monday; and, on Sunday following, went to the chapel in Tottenham Court Road. An immense multitude was gathered together from all corners of the town.708 I was at first afraid that a great part of the congregation would not be able to hear; but it pleased God so to strengthen my voice, that even those at the door heard distinctly. It was an awful season: all were still as night; most appeared to be deeply affected; and an impression was made on many, which one would hope will not speedily be effaced.
“The time appointed for my beginning at the Tabernacle was half an hour after five; but it was quite filled at three; so I began at four. At first, the noise was exceeding great; but it ceased when I began to speak; and my voice was again so strengthened that all who were within could hear, unless an accidental noise hindered here or there for a few moments. O that all may hear the voice of Him with whom are the issues of life and death; and who so loudly, by this unexpected stroke, calls all His children to love one another!”
In addition to the services on November 18, Wesley, on two other occasions, improved the death of his old and much-loved friend. Hence the following extracts from his Journal:—
“Friday, November 23. Being desired by the trustees of the Tabernacle at Greenwich to preach Mr. Whitefield’s funeral sermon there, I went over to-day for that purpose; but neither would this house contain the congregation. Those who could not get in made some noise at first; but in a little while all were silent. Here, likewise, I trust God has given a blow to that bigotry which had prevailed for many years.
“Wednesday, January 2, 1771. I preached, in the evening, at Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield. In every place, I wish to shew all possible respect to the memory of that great and good man.”
Wesley’s sermon was official; and was published, with the title, “A Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. Preached at the Chapel in Tottenham Court Road, and at the Tabernacle near Moorfields, on Sunday, November 18, 1770. By John Wesley, M.A., late Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxon., and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess-Dowager of Buchan. 1770.” (8vo. 32 pp.)
No man was so well qualified to form a correct estimate of Whitefield’s life as Wesley was. For thirty-seven years, they had been loving, frank, confiding friends. Wesley was a singularly keen observer of human character; and, moreover, he was without envy, was incapable of using flattery, and was far too honest to say anything but what he thought. In this instance, he took a text (Numbers xxiii. 10) without expounding it. His sermon was simply a review of Whitefield’s “life, and death, and character,” with an enquiry how his sudden removal ought to be improved. The first dozen pages are filled with a condensed summary of Whitefield’s Journals down to the year 1741;—“Journals,” says Wesley, “which, for their artless and unaffected simplicity, may vie with any writings of the kind.” And then, in reference to Whitefield’s labours already sketched, Wesley adds:—
“How exact a specimen is this of his labours, both in Europe and America, for the honour of his beloved Master, during the thirty years that followed! as well as of the uninterrupted showers of blessings wherewith God was pleased to succeed his labours! Is it not much to be lamented, that anything should have prevented his continuing this account till at least near the time when he was called by his Lord to enjoy the fruit of his labour? If he has left any papers of this kind, and his friends count me worthy of the honour, it would be my glory and joy to methodize, transcribe, and prepare them for the public view.”
Wesley then gives an extract from the Boston Gazette, which he virtually adopts as expressing his own opinions:—
“In his public labours, Mr. Whitefield has for many years astonished the world with his eloquence and devotion. With what divine pathos did he persuade the impenitent sinner to embrace the practice of piety and virtue! Filled with the spirit of grace, he spoke from the heart; and, with a fervency of zeal perhaps unequalled since the days of the apostles, adorned the truths he delivered with the most graceful charms of rhetoric and oratory. From the pulpit he was unrivalled in the command of an over-crowded auditory. Nor was he less agreeable and instructive in his private conversation: happy in a remarkable ease of address, willing to communicate, studious to edify.”
Wesley next proceeds to give his own sketch of Whitefield’s character, and which, abbreviated, is as follows:—
“Mention has already been made of his unparalleled zeal, his indefatigable activity, his tender-heartedness to the afflicted, and charitableness toward the poor. But should we not likewise mention his deep gratitude to all whom God had used as instruments of good to him? of whom he did not cease to speak in the most respectful manner, even to his dying day.709 Should we not mention, that he had a heart susceptible of the most generous and the most tender friendship? I have frequently thought, that this, of all others, was the distinguishing part of his character. How few have we known of so kind a temper, of such large and flowing affections! Was it not principally by this that the hearts of others were so strangely drawn and knit to him? Can anything but love beget love? This shone in his very countenance, and continually breathed in all his words, whether in public or private. Was it not this, which, quick and penetrating as lightning, flew from heart to heart? which gave life to his sermons, his conversations, his letters? Ye are witnesses.
“He was also endued with the most nice and unblemished modesty. His office called him to converse, very frequently and largely, with women as well as men; and those of every age and condition. But his whole behaviour toward them was a practical comment on that advice of St. Paul to Timothy, ‘Intreat the elder women as mothers, the younger as sisters, with all purity.’710
“The frankness and openness of his conversation was as far removed from rudeness on the one hand, as from guile and disguise on the other. Was not this frankness at once a fruit and a proof of his courage and intrepidity? Armed with these, he feared not the faces of men, but used great plainness of speech to persons of every rank and condition, high and low, rich and poor; endeavouring only by manifestation of the truth to commend himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.
“His steadiness appeared in whatever he undertook for his Master’s sake. Witness one instance for all, the Orphan House in Georgia, which he began and perfected, in spite of all discouragements. Indeed, in whatever concerned himself, he was pliant and flexible. In this case, he was easy to be intreated, easy to be either convinced or persuaded. But he was immoveable in the things of God, or wherever his conscience was concerned. None could persuade, any more than affright him, to vary in the least point from that integrity, which was inseparable from his whole character, and regulated all his words and actions.
“If it be enquired, what was the foundation of this integrity, or of his sincerity, courage, patience, and every other valuable and amiable quality, it is easy to give the answer. It was not the excellence of his natural temper; not the strength of his understanding; it was not the force of education; no, nor the advice of his friends. It was no other than faith in a bleeding Lord; faith of the operation of God. It was a lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. It was the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which was given unto him, filling his soul with tender, disinterested love to every child of man. From this source arose that torrent of eloquence, which frequently bore down all before it; from this, that astonishing force of persuasion, which the most hardened sinners could not resist. This it was, which often made his head as waters, and his eyes as a fountain of tears. This it was, which enabled him to pour out his soul in prayer, in a manner peculiar to himself, with such fulness and ease united together, with such strength and variety both of sentiment and expression.
“I may close this head with observing, what an honour it pleased God to put upon His faithful servant, by allowing him to declare His everlasting gospel in so many various countries, to such numbers of people, and with so great an effect on so many of their precious souls. Have we read or heard of any person since the apostles, who testified the gospel of the grace of God, through so widely extended a space, through so large a part of the habitable world? Have we read or heard of any person, who called so many thousands, so many myriads of sinners to repentance? Above all, have we read or heard of any, who has been a blessed instrument in the hand of God of bringing so many sinners from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God?”
Like all Wesley’s writings, this sketch of Whitefield’s character is concise, but terse, pointed, and comprehensive. He concludes by improving Whitefield’s death. The grand lesson to be learned was to “keep close to the grand doctrines which” Whitefield “delivered; and to drink into his spirit,” a lesson which the Methodists of the present day have more need to study and to lay to heart than the Methodists of any previous generation.
The “grand doctrines” specified by Wesley were, that “There is no power (by nature) and no merit in man. All power to think, speak, or act aright, is in and from the Spirit of Christ: and all merit is in the blood of Christ. All men are dead in trespasses and sins: all are by nature children of wrath: all are guilty before God, liable to death, temporal and eternal. We become interested in what Christ has done and suffered, not by works, lest any man should boast; but by faith alone. We conclude, says the Apostle, that a man is justified by faith, without the works of the law. And to as many as thus receive Him, giveth He power to become the sons of God: even to those that believe in His name, who are born, not of the will of man, but of God. And except a man be thus born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. But all who are thus born of the Spirit, have the kingdom of God within them. That mind is in them which was in Christ Jesus, enabling them to walk as Christ also walked. His indwelling Spirit makes them both holy in heart, and holy in all manner of conversation.”
These were the doctrines of Wesley, Whitefield, and the first Methodists, par excellence, and no pulpit of the present age has a right to be designated Methodist, in which these doctrines do not occupy the same prominent position. “May they not,” says Wesley, “be summed up, as it were, in two words, The new birth, and justification by faith”?
Immediately after the publication of his sermon, Wesley was attacked by the Gospel Magazine, and charged “with asserting a gross falsehood,” in saying that “the grand fundamental doctrines which Mr. Whitefield everywhere preached,” were those just specified. In an unamiable outburst of Calvinistic zeal, the editor maintained that Whitefield’s “grand fundamental doctrines, which he everywhere preached, were the everlasting covenant between the Father and the Son, and absolute predestination flowing therefrom.”
To this Wesley quietly replied:—
“I join issue on this head. Whether the doctrines of the eternal covenant, and of absolute predestination, are the grand fundamental doctrines of Christianity or not, I affirm again, 1. That Mr. Whitefield did not everywhere preach these; 2. That he did everywhere preach the new birth, and justification by faith.
“1. He did not everywhere preach the eternal covenant, and absolute predestination. In all the times I myself heard him preach, I never heard him utter a sentence, either on one or the other. Yea, all the times he preached in West Street chapel, and in our other chapels throughout England, he did not preach these doctrines at all,—no, not in a single paragraph; which, by the bye, is a demonstration that he did not think them the fundamental doctrines of Christianity.
“2. Both in West Street chapel, and all our other chapels throughout England, he did preach the necessity of the new birth, and justification by faith, as clearly as he has done in his two volumes of printed sermons. Therefore all that I have asserted is true, and proveable by ten thousand witnesses.”711
It is scarcely necessary to add to Wesley’s delineation of his much-loved friend and fellow-worker; and yet there are other sketches, by those who were intimately acquainted with the great evangelist, which may be briefly noticed. “Funeral sermons were preached in the principal cities of America,”712 including one at Newbury Port, by the Rev. Jonathan Parsons; three at Savannah,713 by the Rev. Samuel Frink, rector, the Rev. Edward Ellington, and the Rev. John Joachim Zubley,714 Presbyterian; two at Charlestown, by the Revds. Mr. Whitaker, and Josiah Smith; at least, one at Philadelphia, by the Rev. James Sproat, D.D., the successor of Gilbert Tennent; and two at Boston, one by the Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, D.D., and the other by the Rev. Samuel Cooper,D.D.715 In England, sermons were preached by Wesley, Venn, Romaine, Madan, John Newton, Berridge, Haweis, and several other clergymen of the Church of England; also by the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D.; the Rev. John Trotter, D.D.; the Rev. John Langford; the Rev. Samuel Brewer; the Rev. Charles Skelton;716 and others among the Dissenters.717 Besides Wesley’s, the following sermons were published:—1. “To Live is Christ, to Die is Gain. A Funeral Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, who died suddenly of a fit of the Asthma, at Newbury Port, at six of the clock, Lord’s-day Morning, Sept. 30, 1770. The Sermon preached the same day (afternoon), by Jonathan Parsons, A.M., and Minister of the Presbyterian Church there. To which are added, An Account of his Interment; the Speech over his Grave, by the Rev. Mr. Jewet; and some Verses to his Memory, by the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D. 1771.” (8vo. 35 pp.) 2. “Heaven, the Residence of the Saints: a Sermon, delivered at the Thursday Lecture at Boston, in America, October 11, 1770. By Ebenezer Pemberton, D.D., Pastor of a Church in Boston, 1771.” (8vo. 31 pp.) 3. “The Reproach of Christ the Christian’s Treasure: a Sermon preached at Christ Church, Savannah, in Georgia, on Sunday, November 11, 1770. By Edward Ellington, V.D.M. London, 1771.” (8vo. 31 pp.)718 4. “A Minister Dead, yet Speaking. Being the Substance of two Discourses, preached November 11, 1770. By the Rev. Mr. D. Edwards. London.” (8vo. 24 pp.) 5. “A Token of Respect to the Memory of the Rev. George Whitefield, A.M. Being the Substance of a Sermon preached on his Death, at the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon’s Chapel at Bath, the 18th of November, 1770. By the Rev. Mr. Venn, London, 1770.” (8vo. 20 pp.) 6. “The Exalted State of the Faithful Ministers of Christ, after Death, described and considered. A Sermon preached on Sabbath-day Evening, December 2, 1770. By John Langford, Minister of the Gospel, and Pastor of that part of the Church of Christ, meeting in Black’s Fields, Southwark. London, 1770.” (8vo. 40 pp.) 7. “Grace and Truth, or a Summary of Gospel Doctrine, considered in a Funeral Discourse, preached on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, A.B. By R. Elliot, A.B. London, 1770.” (12mo. 46 pp.)
From these, and from contemporaneous publications, many extracts might be furnished. Mr. Parsons told his congregation that he had enjoyed Whitefield’s friendship for thirty years; and that it was by Whitefield’s “advice and influence” that he had settled at Newbury Port a quarter of a century ago. Mr. Parsons continued:—
“When Mr. Whitefield first came to Boston, Dr. Coleman wrote to me, that, ‘the wonderful man was come, and they had had a week of sabbaths; that Mr. Whitefield’s zeal for Christ was extraordinary; and yet he recommended himself to his thousands of hearers, by his engagedness for holiness and souls.’ I soon had opportunity to observe, that, wherever he flew, like a flame of fire, his ministry gave a general alarm to all sorts of people, though, before that, they had, for a long time, been sunk into dead formality. Ministers and their congregations seemed to be at ease; but Mr. Whitefield’s preaching appeared to be from the heart. We were convinced that he believed the message he brought to us, to be of the last importance. His popularity exceeded all that I ever knew. The last sermon that he preached only yesterday, though under the disadvantage of a stage in the open air, was delivered with such clearness, pathos, and eloquence, as to please and surprise the surrounding thousands. As, for many years, he had been waiting and hoping for his last change, he then declared that he hoped it was the last time he should ever preach. His countenance shone like the unclouded sun.”
Dr. Pemberton, in his sermon, founded upon 1 Peter i. 4, observes:—
“I am not fond of funeral panegyrics, which are oftener adapted to flatter the dead than to instruct the living. But where persons have been distinguishedly honoured by heaven, and employed to do uncommon service for God’s Church on earth, it would be criminal ingratitude to suffer them to drop into the dust without the most respectful notice. Posterity will view Mr. Whitefield, in many respects, as one of the most extraordinary characters of the present age. His zealous, incessant, and successful labours, in Europe and America, are without a parallel. We beheld here a new star arise in the hemisphere of these western churches, and its salutary influences were diffused through a great part of the British settlements in these remote regions. We heard from a divine of the Church of England those great doctrines of the gospel, which our ancestors brought with them from their native country. In his repeated progresses through the colonies, he was favoured with the same success which attended him on the other side of the Atlantic. He preached from day to day in thronged assemblies; yet his hearers never discovered the least weariness, but always followed him with increasing ardour. When in the pulpit, every eye was fixed on his expressive countenance; every ear was charmed with his melodious voice; all sorts of persons were captivated with the propriety and beauty of his address. Many in all parts of the land were turned from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. He was no contracted bigot, but embraced Christians of every denomination in the arms of his charity, and acknowledged them to be children of the same Father, servants of the same Master, heirs of the same undefiled inheritance. He was always received by multitudes with pleasure when he favoured us with his labours; but he never had a more obliging reception than in his last visit. Men of the first distinction in the province, not only attended his ministry, but gave him the highest marks of respect. With what faithfulness did he declare unto us the whole counsel of God! With what solemnity did he reprove us for our increasing degeneracy! With what zeal did he exhort us to remember from whence we were fallen, and repent and do our first works, lest God should come and remove our candlestick out of its place. On every occasion, he expressed an uncommon concern for our civil as well as our religious privileges, the dear-bought purchase of our heroic ancestors. With what fervency did he pray that they might be transmitted entire to the most distant posterity! He embraced every opportunity, in public and private, to persuade us to lay aside our party prejudices and passions, that with undivided hearts we might unite in every proper method to secure our future prosperity. Perhaps no man, since the apostolic age, preached oftener, or with greater success. If we view his private character, he will appear in the most amiable light: the polite gentleman, the faithful friend, the engaging companion—above all, the sincere Christian—were visible in the whole of his deportment. With large opportunities of accumulating wealth, he never discovered the least tincture of avarice. What he received from the kindness of his friends, he generously employed in offices of piety and charity. His benevolent mind was perpetually forming plans of extensive usefulness. I have not drawn an imaginary portrait, but described a character in real life. I am not representing a perfect man; but this may be said of Mr. Whitefield with justice, that, after the most public appearances for above thirty years, and the most critical examination of his conduct, no other blemish could be fixed upon him, than what arose from the common frailties of human nature, and the peculiar circumstances which attended his first entrance into public life. The imprudences of inexperienced youth he frequently acknowledged from the pulpit with a frankness which will for ever do honour to his memory. He took care to prevent any bad consequences that might flow from his unguarded censures in the early days of his ministry. The longer he lived, the more he evidently increased in purity of doctrine, in humility, meekness, prudence, patience, and the other amiable virtues of the Christian life.”
A testimony like this, coming from, not only a distinguished minister, but one who had been intimately acquainted with Whitefield for the last thirty years, is of more than ordinary importance.
The sermon, written by Cornelius Winter, and preached by the Rev. Edward Ellington, in Whitefield’s old church in Savannah, is respectable, but contains no facts not already noticed. The same may be said respecting the Rev. D. Edwards’s two discourses.
The sermon by the Rev. Henry Venn is what might be expected from a man of his piety and talents; and as he and Whitefield were loving friends, and Methodist co-workers, the following extract will be acceptable:—
“Mr. Whitefield’s doctrine was the doctrine of the Reformers, of the Apostles, and of Christ; and the doctrine which he preached, he eminently adorned by his zeal, and by his works. If the greatness, extent, success, and disinterestedness of a man’s labour can give him distinction amongst the followers of Christ, we are warranted to affirm, that scarce any one of His ministers, since the days of the apostles, has exceeded, scarce any one has equalled, Mr. Whitefield.”
Venn proceeds to state, that, for many years, Whitefield preached from forty to sixty hours every week, besides “offering up prayers and intercessions, and singing hymns and spiritual songs in every house to which he was invited.”
Mr. Langford’s sermon supplies no additional information respecting Whitefield; neither does Mr. Elliot’s. Toplady wrote:—
“I deem myself happy in thus publicly avowing the inexpressible esteem in which I held this wonderful man, and the affectionate veneration which I must ever retain for the memory of one whose acquaintance and ministry were attended with the most important spiritual benefit to me, and to tens of thousands besides. It will not be saying too much, if I term him the apostle of the English empire, in point of zeal for God, a long course of indefatigable and incessant labours, unparalleled disinterestedness, and astonishing extensive usefulness. If the most absolute command over the passions of immense auditories be a mark of a consummate orator, he was the greatest of the age. If the strongest good sense, the most generous expansions of heart, the most artless but captivating affability, the most liberal exemption from bigotry, the purest and most transpicuous integrity, the brightest cheerfulness, and the promptest wit, enter into the composition of social excellence, he was one of the best companions in the world. If to be steadfast, and unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; if a union of the most brilliant with the most solid ministerial gifts, ballasted by a deep and humbling experience of grace, and crowned with the most extended success in the conversion of sinners and the edification of saints, be signatures of a special commission from heaven, Mr. Whitefield cannot but stand highest on the modern list of Christian ministers. He was the prince of preachers. On the whole, he was the least imperfect character I ever knew. It appears, from a book in which this great man of God minuted the times and places of his ministerial labours, that he preached upwards of eighteen thousand sermons, from the time of his ordination to that of his death. To which we may add, upwards of one thousand four hundred and sixty letters, written to his friends and acquaintance.”719
John Newton, in a sermon, preached in his church at Olney, on November 11, said: “I have had some opportunities of looking over the history of the Church in past ages, and I am not backward to say, that I have not read or heard of any person, since the days of the apostles, of whom it may more emphatically be said, ‘He was a burning and shining light,’ than of the late Mr. Whitefield. The Lord gave him a manner of preaching, which was peculiarly his own. He copied from none, and I never met any one who could imitate him with success. Those who attempted, generally made themselves disagreeable. Other ministers, perhaps, could preach the gospel as clearly, and in general say the same things; but, I believe, no man living could say them in his way.”
“I bless God,” added the Olney curate, “that I have lived in the time of Mr. Whitefield. Many were the winter mornings in which I got up at four, to attend his Tabernacle discourses at five; and I have seen Moorfields as full of lanthorns at these times as, I suppose, the Haymarket is full of flambeaux on an opera night. If any one were to ask me who was the second preacher I ever heard, I should be at some loss to answer; but, in regard to the first, Mr. Whitefield exceeded so far every other man of my time, that I should be at none. He was the original of popular preaching, and all our popular ministers are only his copies.”720
Honest Berridge took for his text, at Everton, “Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth; for the faithful fail from among the children of men.” He told his hearers that the £1,500, of which Whitefield had died possessed, was money which he had only recently received. By the death of his wife, two years ago, he had become entitled to £800; and the remaining £700 had been bequeathed to him, in four separate legacies, by friends not long deceased.721
Many of the newspapers and magazines of the day contained sketches of Whitefield’s career and character. The following, published in the Scots’ Magazine, is a fair specimen of others:—
“Mr. Whitefield was well known over all the British empire, as a faithful, laborious, and successful minister of the gospel of Christ. The character of this truly pious and extraordinary person must be deeply impressed upon the heart of every friend to true, genuine, vital Christianity. For above thirty years, he has astonished the world, as a prodigy of eloquence, by which he was enabled to melt the most obdurate and stubborn sinners. Though, in the pulpit, he often found it necessary by the terrors of the Lord to persuade men, he had nothing gloomy in his nature, being singularly charitable and tender-hearted; and, in his private conversation, cheerful, communicative, and entertaining. To the very meanest, he was always easy of access, and ever ready to listen to, and relieve their bodily as well as their spiritual necessities; shewing himself, in every respect, a faithful steward of the extensive charities he drew from his numerous and compassionate hearers. He constantly enforced upon his audiences every moral duty, particularly industry in their different callings, obedience to their superiors, and in a most especial manner loyalty to our amiable Sovereign, never once endeavouring in these distracted times to make a factious use of the great influence he held among his numerous adherents.”
The Pennsylvania Journal also published a letter, dated “Boston, October 1, 1770,” from which the following is an extract:—
“In his public performances, Mr. Whitefield has, for a long course of years, astonished the world as a prodigy of eloquence and devotion. With what divine pathos did he plead with the impenitent sinner! Filled with the spirit of grace, he spoke from the heart; and with a fervency of zeal perhaps unequalled since the days of the Apostles. He was unrivalled in the command of an ever-crowded and admiring auditory; nor was he less entertaining and instructive in his private conversation. Happy in a remarkable ease of address, willing to communicate, studious to edify, and formed to amuse—such, in more retired life, was he whom we now lament.”722
Except the Wesleys, perhaps no one was better acquainted with Whitefield than the Rev. Dr. Gillies, of Glasgow, whose “Memoirs of Whitefield” were published in the month of June, 1772.723 Omitting, as far as possible, the traits of Whitefield’s character already noticed, Dr. Gillies’ sketch may fitly close these eulogies by Whitefield’s friends.
“Mr. Whitefield’s person was graceful, and well proportioned. His stature was rather above the middle size. His complexion was very fair. His eyes were of a dark blue colour, and small, but sprightly. He had a squint with one of them, occasioned either by the ignorance, or carelessness of the nurse who attended him in the measles, when he was about four years old. His features were in general good and regular. His countenance was manly, and his voice exceeding strong; yet both were softened with an uncommon degree of sweetness. He was always very clean and neat, and often said pleasantly, that ‘a minister of the gospel ought to be without spot.’ His deportment was decent and easy, without the least stiffness or formality; and his engaging polite manner made his company universally agreeable. In his youth, he was very slender, and moved his body with great agility of action, suitable to his discourse; but about the fortieth year of his age, he began to grow corpulent; which however, was solely the effect of his disease, being always, even to a proverb, remarkable for his moderation both in eating and drinking. Several prints have been done of him, which exhibit a very bad likeness. The best resemblance of him in his younger years, before he became corpulent, is that mezzotinto scraping which represents him at full length, with one hand on his breast, and holding a small Bible in the other; but the late paintings, the one by Mr. Hone,724 and the other by Mr. Russell, are certainly the justest likenesses of his person.
“In reviewing the life of this extraordinary man, we are struck with his unwearied diligence. Early in the morning, he rose to his Master’s work, and, all the day long, was employed in a continual succession of different duties. When he was visited with any distress or affliction, preaching, as he himself tells us, was his catholicon, and prayer his antidote against every trial. When we consider what exertion of voice was necessary to reach his large congregations,—also that he preached generally twice or thrice every day, and often four times on the Lord’s-day, and above all, the waste of strength and spirits every sermon must have cost him, through the earnestness of his delivery,—it is astonishing how his constitution held out so long.
“His eloquence was great, and of the true and noblest kind. He was utterly devoid of all appearance of affectation. He seemed to be quite unconscious of the talents he possessed. The importance of his subject, and the regard due to his hearers, engrossed all his concern. He spoke like one who did not seek their applause, but was anxious for their best interests. And the effect, in some measure, corresponded to the design. His congregations did not amuse themselves with commending his discourses, but entered into his views, felt his passions, and were willing, for the time at least, to comply with his requests. This was especially remarkable at his charity sermons, when the most worldly-minded were made to part with their money in so generous a manner, that, when they returned to their former temper, they were ready to think that it had been conjured from them by some inexplicable charm.
“He had a strong and musical voice, and a wonderful command of it. His pronunciation was not only proper, but manly and graceful. He was never at a loss for the most natural and strong expressions. The grand sources of his eloquence were an exceeding lively imagination, and an action still more lively. Every accent of his voice spoke to the ear; every feature of his face, and every motion of his hands, spoke to the eye. The most dissipated and thoughtless found their attention involuntarily fixed; and the dullest and most ignorant could not but understand. Had his natural talents for oratory been employed in secular affairs, and been somewhat more improved by refinements of art and embellishments of erudition, it is possible they would soon have advanced him to distinguished wealth and renown.
“But not to dwell longer on his accomplishments as an orator, one thing remains to be mentioned of an infinitely higher order, namely, the power of God, which so remarkably accompanied his labours. It is here Mr. Whitefield is most to be envied. When we consider the multitudes that were brought under lasting religious impressions, and the multitudes that were wrought upon in the same manner by the ministry of others, excited by his example, we are led into the same sentiment with Mr. Wesley in his funeral sermon, ‘What an honour hath it pleased God to put upon His faithful servant!’
“True, this excellent character was shaded with some infirmities. What else could be expected in the present condition of humanity? But it ought to be observed, that, as there was something very amiable in the frankness which prevented his concealing them, so, through his openness to conviction, his teachableness, and his readiness to confess and correct his mistakes, they became still fewer and smaller as he advanced in knowledge and experience.
“When he first set out in the ministry, his youth and inexperience led him into many expressions which were contrary to sound doctrine, and which made many of the sermons he first printed justly exceptionable; but reading, experience, and a deeper knowledge of his own heart, convinced him of his errors, and, upon all occasions, he avowed his belief of the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England, and the Standards of the Church of Scotland. ‘He loved his friend’ (Wesley), ‘but he would not part with a grain of sacred truth for the brother of his heart.’”725
My task is nearly ended. I am not conscious of having omitted a single fact, of any importance, in Whitefield’s history. His life is a suggestive one; but want of space prevents enlargement on the countless incidents in his remarkable career. These have been narrated with as much clearness as the writer could command. The reader can form his own reflections. Preachers, especially, will do well to make Whitefield the subject of prayerful study. Let them try to imitate him in the use of his matchless voice. A man had better not preach at all, than preach so mumblingly that only half of what he says is heard. He vexes his hearers without doing them any good. If Whitefield had tried to add to his facial beauty, by omitting to shave his upper lip, even he would not have spoken so distinctly and audibly as he did. Whitefield’s preaching was always warm, earnest, pointed,—addressed to the heart rather than the head. He left the impression that he intensely believed what he said. “Clear but cold, is too descriptive of much modern preaching. It is the frosty moonlight of a winter’s night, not the warm sunshine of a summer’s day.”726 If such had been Whitefield’s preaching, what would his success have been? The man’s faith filled and fired him with enthusiasm. On themes such as the ruin of man, the love of God, the death of Christ, the salvation of souls, the felicities of heaven, and the torments of hell, it was impossible for Whitefield to be calm. If Whitefield had preached on little subjects, he might have been as cool as many of his fellows, and might have courted favour by yielding to the fastidious tastes of respectable congregations, desiring the sentimental, the picturesque, and the imaginative, but turning with disgust from the solemn, the alarming, the awakening. Whitefield was not a coward. No fetters of custom, or trammels of conventionality, could enslave him. He never unmanned himself by prophesying smooth things, for fear of offending his auditors. His life was spent in testifying a few great truths in which he had an intense, divinely given, vivid faith,—truths, always unpopular among philosophers, but truths everywhere needed by human beings,—the only truths which meet the yearnings of human nature. Whitefield had no time for lesser truths. He durst not amuse his hearers by preaching them. He saw the people perishing, and he had not the hardihood to trifle in his attempts to save them. His congregations always knew what would be the substance of his sermons. Added to all this, Whitefield was full of religious feeling. Except when sleeping, he seemed to pray and praise always and everywhere. He was “full of faith and the Holy Ghost.” A vivid spirituality inflamed his soul. His ideas of God and Christ, of sin and holiness, of faith and pardon, of heaven and hell, were not merely thoughts, but sentiments. Without this, Whitefield’s eloquence would only have been elocution, and his sermons, instead of being “mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds,” would have been—what?—theatrical orations!
Whitefield left no “Societies,” as his friend Wesley did; but Whitefield’s ministry was the means of converting tens of thousands of sinners from the errors of their ways. O that this could be said of twenty of the preachers of the present day! Their influence, direct and indirect, would set “the kingdoms on a blaze.” Not a few of Whitefield’s converts became ministers; and, as children often resemble their parents, most of the ministers who owned Whitefield as their spiritual father, were, though in an inferior degree, a resemblance of himself, in their spirit, labours, and success. Except at the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court Road, Whitefield created no “golden candlestick” (Rev. i. 20), but he everywhere carried a torch kindled at the altar of heaven, and with it lighted “candlesticks that had gone out.” He is inseparably connected with the history of the evangelical party of the Church of England, beginning with men like Berridge, Venn, Madan, Romaine, Newton, and others, and resulting in a fact of inconceivable importance, namely, that, thousands of the pulpits of the Established Church are now occupied by ministers of a kindred spirit. Plenty of evidence has been furnished, in the first volume of the present work, of the apathy and worldliness of the Congregationalists of England and the Presbyterians of Scotland. The contrast between the state of these churches in 1739 and 1876 is almost a contrast between life and death. Whitefield is credited with having preached for the Dissenters of England to a greater extent than he is entitled to; but he did preach for them, in Northamptonshire, Herts, Gloucestershire, and other places, and they, not improperly, attribute much of their revived religion to his instrumentality. His usefulness in Scotland is much more apparent and undoubted. With no wish to depreciate the Erskines and their friends, it is not too much to say, that, Whitefield was the first great agent of that resuscitation of religion, which has effectually counteracted the Socinian and semi-infidel tendencies which prevailed in the Presbyterian Churches across the border, and which has infused into them the new and universal life they now exhibit. Whitefield’s service to Ireland was small,—a contrast to that rendered by his friend Wesley; but his usefulness in Wales was incalculable. Though not the founder of the Calvinistic Methodists, he was, for years, and until he resigned the honour, their elected moderator; and, to the end of life, he took a warm and active interest in their welfare and prosperity. Their chapels are found in every town and almost every village of the Principality; their ordained ministers number more than four hundred; their communicants nearly a hundred thousand; and their hearers about a quarter of a million. What is called “Lady Huntingdon’s Connection” was not formally established until thirteen years after Whitefield’s death; but Whitefield chiefly, in connection with other clergymen of the Established Church, had prepared the way for this; and now, in the days of its decline, it possesses about half a hundred chapels, and its Cheshunt College, the substitute of the one at Trevecca, which Whitefield opened two years before he died.
In other ways, Great Britain was immensely benefited by Whitefield’s labours. Methodists especially, and other evangelists, must not forget that Whitefield was the first who revived the good old practice of preaching out of doors. He was not formally one of Wesley’s “assistants;” but, for many years, he preached, in the north of England, and other places, to Wesley’s congregations, and fostered and promoted their religious life. His enormous collections, also, were, to a great extent, the beginning of the marvellous beneficence which now distinguishes the British churches. And, once again, his catholicity of spirit greatly tended to usher in the age of friendliness among professing Christians.
All this may be said with truthfulness respecting the influence he exerted in his native country; but, perhaps, his usefulness in America was greater even than in England. An American author,727 of great eminence, observes:—
“The ‘Great Awakening’ here had commenced before his arrival, but it was comparatively local, and its visible interest at least had mostly subsided. Edwards and some of his ministerial associates were yet praying and writing respecting it in New England; and the Tennents, Blairs, Finley, Rowland, and others, were devotedly labouring, in detail, in the Middle States, against the moral stupor of the times; but Whitefield’s coming at once renewed the revival and gave it universality, if not unity. He alone of all its promoters represented it in all parts of the country; and, at every repeated visit, renewed its progress. In the South, he was almost its only labourer. His preaching, and especially his volume of sermons, read by Morris, founded the Presbyterian Church in Virginia; for, before that period, there was not a Dissenting minister settled in the colony. In the Middle States, Whitefield’s labours had a profound effect. He was an apostle to Philadelphia; he rallied around him its preachers, and stimulated them by his example. In New Jersey and New York, he exerted a similar influence; and the frequent repetition of his visits through about thirty years did not allow the evangelical interests of the churches to subside. The ministers in the Synod of New York more than tripled in seven years after his first visit. In New England, the effects of Edwards’s labours were reproduced and rendered general by Whitefield’s frequent passages. One hundred and fifty Congregational Churches were founded in less than twenty years; and it has been estimated that about forty thousand souls were converted in New England alone. The effects of the great revival, of which Whitefield had thus become the ostensible representative, have been profound and permanent. The Protestantism of the United States has taken its subsequent character from it; and the ‘Holy Club’ at Oxford maybe recognized as historically connected with the evangelical religion of all this continent. The effect of the ‘awakening’ on the character of the ministers was one of its greatest results. Since that period, the ‘evangelical’ character of the American pastorate has not, as before, been exceptional, but general. Its influence on the discipline of the Church was also one of its most important blessings. It banished the ‘Halfway Covenant,’ which had filled the eastern churches with unconverted members. It made personal regeneration a requisite among the qualifications for the Christian ministry; and it introduced that general and profound conviction of the essential spirituality of religion, and the necessary independence of Church and State, which soon after began, and has since completed, the overthrow of all legal connection between the two throughout the country. It gave origin to Princeton College and its distinguished Theological Seminary, and also to Dartmouth College; for both were founded by Whitefield’s fellow-labourers, and the Methodists of England contributed their money to both.”
This, written by one so well acquainted with the history of America as Dr. Stevens, deserves more than ordinary attention. One more fact must be noticed, though included in the general statement just given. There cannot be a doubt that Whitefield’s labours in America prepared the way for Wesley’s itinerants. The first two, Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmoor, arrived before his last visit; and, in Philadelphia, he gave them his blessing. That was in the year 1769. Now the Methodist Episcopal Church alone has 12 bishops;728 81 annual conferences; 10,923 itinerant preachers; 12,881 local preachers; 1,580,559 church members; 15,633 church edifices, valued at $71,353,234; 5,017 parsonages, valued at $9,731,628; 19,287 Sunday-schools; 207,182 Sunday-school officers and teachers; and 1,406,168 Sunday-school scholars. It has also two large “book concerns,” at New York, and at Cincinnati; and 20 periodicals, published under the direction of the General Conference, besides a number of others edited and published by members of the Methodist Episcopal Church on their own responsibility. It has publishing houses at Bremen in Germany; Gottenberg in Sweden; in the city of Mexico; and at Foochow in China. It has seven German conferences, with 511 itinerant preachers; 556 local preachers; 47,698 church members; 610 church edifices; 294 parsonages; 940 Sunday-schools; 7,908 Sunday-school officers and teachers; and 46,998 Sunday-school scholars. Its Foreign Missionary Society has 369 missionaries and assistant missionaries; 310 teachers; 16,127 church members; 111 church edifices, valued at $396,171; 55 parsonages, valued at $70,750; 426 Sunday-schools; 18,971 Sunday-school scholars; and 180 day-schools, with 5,329 pupils. Besides these, the same Foreign Missionary Society employs 251 missionaries “among foreign populations in the United States,” and 2,307 “domestic missionaries,” who have under their care unitedly 56,241 church members. The Methodist Episcopal Church has its “Woman’s Foreign Missionary Society,” with 19 missionaries; 100 schools; 108 Bible-women and teachers; 159 orphans; and an annual income of $64,309. It has its “Freedmen’s Aid Society,” with an income of $86,560 yearly. It has a “Tract Society,” the receipts of which, for the year 1874, were $19,840. It has 27 “universities and colleges,” with 216 “instructors,” and 5,090 students; also 69 “academies and seminaries,” with 504 “instructors,” and 14,100 students; the estimated value of these collegiate properties being about seven million dollars. To these must be added the “Boston University School of Theology,” with 90 students; the “Drew Theological Seminary,” with 125 students; the “Garrett Biblical Institute,” with 156 students; the “Martin Mission Institute,” with 10 students; and the “India Conference Theological Seminary,” with 27 students.
These statistics, which could be multiplied if it were desirable, belong to the “Methodist Episcopal Church” alone; but, since it was founded in 1769, the following Methodist Churches have seceded from it, namely:—
Itinerant Ministers. Local Preachers. Church Members.
Methodist, Episcopal, South 3,485 5,356 712,765
Coloured Methodist Episcopal 635 683 80,000
African Methodist Episcopal 600 1,450 200,000
African Methodist Episcopal Zion 1,200 800 225,000
Evangelical Association 835 503 95,253
United Brethren 967 1,709 131,850
The Methodist Church 775 507 55,183
Methodist Protestant Church 650 200 54,319
American Wesleyan Church 250 190 20,000
Free Methodists 90 80 6,000
Primitive Methodists 20 25 2,800
Congregational Methodists 23 9,500
The financial and other statistics of these seceding Methodist Churches might easily be given; but it is enough to say, that, including the mother of them all, “The Methodist Episcopal Church,” there are now, in the United States of America, where Whitefield laboured with such marvellous success, 20,453 ordained Methodist ministers; 24,384 lay preachers; 3,173,229 church members; and, according to the returns of the Government census of 1870, more than six millions and a half of people, who, under the head of “Religious Denominational Preferences,” entered themselves as “Methodists.”
Laus Deo!
FINIS.