Volume 2 — THIRD VISIT TO AMERICA. August 1744 to June 1748. (continued 2)

Herbert Jenkins relates, “August 9, 1747,” that he had been, “almost a month at Edinburgh, continually exercised in preaching, and visiting Societies with vast pleasure and delight.”148

John Edwards says: “July 21, 1747. Yesterday, I met the young children at Shrewsbury; and discoursed, sung, and prayed with them about two hours. The Saviour of little children was there: the Lamb smiling upon His lambs.”149

These extracts might easily be multiplied; but one more must suffice. It refers to a disgraceful scene at the Tabernacle in Plymouth, on Sunday, November 29, 1747.

“At five o’clock in the evening, when we were met together to worship the Lord God of our fathers, being in number about a thousand, after I had sung and prayed, and gone over the first head of my discourse, a strong party of sailors, belonging to the Windsor man of war, came in amongst us. They entered, and continued, with their hats on. Four of them came up and stood just under the pulpit, and betrayed, by their looks and sneers, that they had a mind to put me out of countenance; but I went on preaching the word of truth with boldness. In about fifteen minutes, those near the door began to stamp, and to swear most bitterly. Some of our friends very mildly entreated them, either to be still, or else to go out peaceably; but, so far from taking their advice, they laid the weight of their heavy bludgeons, with unspeakable fury, upon the poor people’s heads. The cries and groans of the poor women and children were fearful. There was but one door, and that was guarded by a company of resolute persons, who swore that the first who attempted to escape should have his brains blown out by a pistol. The sailors then beat down the candlesticks, and blew out the candles, to darken the place; but one of our friends had presence of mind to push up one of the chandeliers, suspended by a pully, so that we had a little light preserved. The fury of our foes increased. Many of the people were knocked down, and had their heads broken. The windows were dashed to pieces; and the benches taken up as weapons of warfare. I entreated our friends to march from every corner of the place, and arrest some of the rioters. This was done, and three of them being secured, the rest fled as fast as they could. We concluded the Sabbath with prayers and thanksgivings.”150

In these jottings, the reader has glimpses of the sunshine and shadows of the Calvinistic Methodists in England and Wales, during Whitefield’s absence in America. It is now time to turn again to their youthful moderator across the Atlantic.

For five months, from March to August in 1746, hardly anything is known of Whitefield’s wanderings. He seems, however, to have visited New York, and to have found favour among the people. The following is an extract from the New York Post-Boy, of April, 1746:—

“Mr. Whitefield’s excellent parts, fine elocution, and masterly address; his admirable talent of opening the Scriptures, and enforcing the most weighty subjects upon the conscience; his polite and serious behaviour; his unaffected and superior piety; his prudence, humility, and catholic spirit, are things which must silence and disarm prejudice itself. By these qualifications of the orator, the divine, and the Christian, he has not only fixed himself deeper in the affections of his former friends, but greatly increased the number wherever he has preached; and has made his way into the hearts of several, who, till this visit, had said all the severe things against him that enmity itself seemed capable of.”151

Soon after this, on his way to Philadelphia, Whitefield wrote to Howell Harris, as follows:—

“May 2, 1746.

“My very dear, dear Brother Harris,—I am glad to hear the Welsh Brethren continue steady; and that, amongst our English friends, Antinomianism seems only to be speculative. This is a great evil, but not so great as when it affects the practice, and leads the people of God unwarily into licentiousness. The late outward troubles, I hope, will do good, and put a stop to the many disputes, and various sects, which always spring up when the Lord suffers false principles to abound. I expect to hear that Jesus has made thee immoveable like a wall of brass, as bold as a lion, but as meek as a lamb. Blessed be His name! He continues to be very kind to us. The Orphan House is in a promising way. My temporal affairs begin to be settled; and I am blessed to many souls. Jesus causes many of my professed and embittered enemies to be at peace with me. I know you will help me to praise Him, and beg Him to continue to stand by a poor unworthy creature, who simply desires to spend and be spent for the good of precious and immortal souls. You will remember me to your dear wife, and all our Welsh brethren, in the most endearing manner. We frequently pray for them, and do not despair of seeing them once more. My dear wife loves them exceedingly, and often warms her heart by reflecting on past times.

“Ever, ever thine in Jesus,

“George Whitefield.”152

After this, nothing more is known of Whitefield until the month of August next ensuing. On the 16th of April, at the battle of Culloden, the Jacobites were utterly defeated, and the cause of the Pretender entirely ruined. When the news reached Pennsylvania, Whitefield’s loyalty gushed forth in a sermon, which was immediately printed, with the title, “Britain’s Mercies, and Britain’s Duty. Represented in a Sermon preached at Philadelphia, on Sunday, August 24, 1746; and occasioned by the Suppression of the late unnatural Rebellion. By George Whitefield, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxon. Printed at Philadelphia, 1746.”153 The sermon was almost altogether political, and need not be further noticed. It was a sufficient answer, however, to those who doubted Whitefield’s loyalty.

Two days after preaching his thanksgiving sermon, Whitefield wrote to his mother, as follows:—

“God is exceeding good to me and mine. We have all things pertaining to life and godliness. Many offers are made me; but the Lord Jesus keeps me from catching at the golden bait. Favour is given to me in the sight of the rich and great, and the door for my usefulness opens wider and wider. I love to range in the American woods, and sometimes think I shall never return to England. I was never better in health. My dear wife would send you a few lines, but she is weak by reason of a miscarriage four days ago.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield went to Maryland, where he spent, at least, a month in preaching to large congregations, in seven different counties. Excepting its slavery, Maryland had great attractions. Its soil was rich, and its hospitality unique. The young traveller, who visited Whitefield’s Orphan House in 1743, writes concerning the province:—

“Mush,154 milk, and molasses, homine,155 wild fowl, and fish, are the principal diet of the meaner inhabitants, whilst the water presented to you, by one of the barefooted family, in a copious calabash,156 with an innocent strain of good breeding and heartiness,—the cake baking upon the hearth, and the cleanliness of everything around you,—put you in mind of the golden age, the times of ancient frugality and purity. All over the colony, there are full tables and open doors; and the kind salute, and generous detention remind one of the roast-beef ages of our forefathers. Their breakfast-tables have generally the cold remains of the former day, hashed or fricasseed, together with coffee, tea, chocolate, venison, pastry, punch, rum, and cider. The dinner consists of good beef, veal, mutton, venison, turkeys and geese, wild and tame, fowls boiled and roasted, pies, and puddings. Suppers are the same as dinners, with small additions, and a good hearty cup to precede a bed of down. This is the constant life the planters lead, and to this fare every comer is welcome.”

More than one half of the population of Maryland were slaves, and to these oppressed and cruelly treated fellow-creatures the planters owed their riches and their luxuries. Details of Whitefield’s labours in the colony do not exist. He simply states: “Everywhere almost, the door is opened for preaching; great numbers flock to hear; and the power of an ascended Saviour attends the word. I have preached with abundant success.”157

And, again, in a letter to Wesley, dated, “Queen Ann’s County, Maryland, October 14, 1746,” full of buoyancy, he writes:—

“If you ask, how it is with me? I answer, ‘Happy in Jesus, the Lord my righteousness.’ If you ask, what I am doing? I answer, ‘Ranging and hunting in the American woods after poor sinners.’ If you ask, with what success? I would answer, ‘My labours were never more acceptable; and the door, for fifteen hundred miles together, is quite open for preaching the everlasting gospel.’ Congregations are large, and the work is going on, just as it began and went on in England.

“Notwithstanding the declining state of Georgia, the Orphan House is in a better situation than ever; and, in a year or two, I trust, it will support itself. I am going there to spend some part of the winter, and to begin a foundation for literature.”158

Soon after this, Whitefield sent off his wife and a young lady through “the woods,” to Georgia; and, on November 8, he himself started for Virginia.

The first settlers in Virginia were almost all members of the Church of England. Episcopacy was established by law.159 A small number of Presbyterians from Scotland, and a smaller number of Dissenters from England, were scattered through the colony; but until about the time of Whitefield’s first visit, in 1740, there was no ecclesiastical organization different from the Established Church of the mother-country. The state of religion in the province was deplorable. The Rev. Samuel Davies,160 so justly famed for his sermons and pulpit oratory, wrote, in 1751:—

“Religion, in most parts of the colony of Virginia, has been, and still is, in a very low state: a surprising negligence in attending public worship, and an equally surprising unconcernedness in those that attend; vices of various kinds triumphant, and even a form of godliness not common.”

Such a state of things was the natural result of an unfaithful ministry. Shortly before the year 1740, Samuel Morris began to read, to his neighbours, Luther on the Galatians, and several pieces of honest Bunyan, but the effects produced were not great. In 1743, a young Scotchman brought to Virginia a volume of Whitefield’s sermons, which Morris read to his cottage congregations on week-days, as well as Sundays. He writes:—

“The concern of some of the people now was so passionate and violent, that they could not avoid crying out and weeping bitterly. My dwelling-house became too small to contain the congregation, and we determined to build a meeting-house, merely for reading; for having never been used to extempore prayer, none of us durst attempt it. When the report was spread abroad, I was invited to read the sermons at several distant places; and, by this means, the concern was propagated. About this time, our absenting ourselves from the Established Church, contrary to the laws of the province, was taken notice of, and the court called upon us to assign our reasons, and to declare to what denomination we belonged. As we knew but little of any denomination of Dissenters, except Quakers, we were at a loss what name to assume. At length, recollecting that Luther was a noted Reformer, and that his books had been of special service to us, we called ourselves Lutherans.”161

The result of this movement was the introduction of Presbyterianism. Morris and his converts were visited in succession by the Rev. Messrs. Robinson, Blair, Roan, Tennent, Finley,162 and other ministers, until, in the year 1747, Mr. Davies became their settled pastor. These were the people Whitefield visited in November, 1746; but, unlike himself, he has left no record of what he saw and did. All that is known is contained in the following sentence, written by Morris, the lay-revivalist: “Mr. Whitefield came and preached four or five days, which was the happy means of giving us further encouragement, and of engaging others to the Lord, especially among the Church people, who received the gospel more readily from him than from ministers of the Presbyterian denomination.”163

From Virginia, Whitefield wended his way to Georgia, where, having received an account of the backsliding and disturbances in London and elsewhere, which have been already mentioned, he wrote as follows, to Howell Harris:—

“Hanover, Virginia, November 16, 1746.

“About a week ago, I had the pleasure of receiving a long letter from you. I was glad to find, that, the Tabernacle was given up to your care. Whether its breaches are yet repaired, or whether it be entirely fallen down, I know not. I suppose, when I come to England, I shall have all to begin again.”164

In another letter, written at Bethesda, December 14th, he says:—

“The account you gave me made me mourn. You and all who attended on my preaching, and had opportunities to converse with me privately, know how many hints I gave of what has happened. It might be foreseen; and, consequently, it did not so much surprise me when I found it had come to pass. But I trust the storm is now blown over, and that the little flock will enjoy a calm. Oh that your eyes may be looking towards the blessed Jesus! From Him alone can come your salvation. He will be better to you than a thousand Whitefields. I am afraid you are too desirous of having me with you. Indeed, I long to see you all; but, for some time, America seems to be my place of action. The harvest is great in many places, and the labourers are very few.”165

In another letter to Howell Harris, dated “Bethesda, December, 1746,” he writes:—

“Blessed be God for the good effected by your ministry at the Tabernacle; of which I have been informed by letters from Herbert Jenkins and Thomas Adams. The good Countess of Huntingdon has been there frequently, and has been much pleased, I am told. She shines brighter and brighter every day; and will yet, I trust, be spared for a nursing mother to our Israel.166 This revives me after the miserable divisions that have taken place among my English friends. I trust the storm is now blown over. Her ladyship’s example and conduct, in this trying affair, will be productive of much good. My poor prayers will be daily offered up to the God of all grace to keep her steadfast in the faith, and to make her a burning and shining light in our British Israel.”167

It is a curious fact that, though the Countess of Huntingdon became acquainted with Whitefield as early as the year 1739, and took a deep interest in his ordination,168 there is no evidence of her becoming a frequent attendant at his Tabernacle, except in the winter of 1742, until nearly eight years afterwards. Just at the time when the Society there, and, indeed, when the Societies in general, with which Whitefield was connected, were in danger of being broken up, her ladyship allied herself with him, and, to the end of life, became his chief assistant. There is no proof of her being invited to this position. It would be uncharitable to suppose she was prompted by ambition. The incident was one of those providential interpositions, which so strikingly marked Methodism’s early history.

Whitefield remained at Bethesda till towards the end of January, 1747; and then, leaving his wife with the orphans, he again set out on a preaching tour. He wrote to Herbert Jenkins as follows:—

“Charleston, January 23, 1747.

“I lately came from Bethesda, where I found my family well—happy in Jesus, and happy in one another. Our Lord bowed the heavens several times, and came down among us, in the power of His eternal Spirit. In the beginning of March, I purpose to set out northward. I am sorry to hear the leaven of Antinomianism is not yet purged, and that animosities are not yet ceased among you. I can say nothing at this distance; but I pray that the God of peace may direct and rule all your hearts.”169

The Orphan House was still a cause of great anxiety. Whitefield had there a family of twenty-six children. He had also opened a sort of boarding school, or, to use his own language, had begun “a foundation for literature.” He was, likewise, more than £500 in debt. To provide for such necessities, he now took one of the strangest steps in his chequered life. The people at Charleston gave him £300, which he expended in buying land and negroes! and thus the great preacher became a slave-owner and a planter! He shall tell his own story.

“Charleston, March 15, 1747.

“Blessed be God! I hope I can say, that, Bethesda was never in better order than it is now. On my arrival there, this winter, I opened a Latin school, and have now several children of promising abilities who have begun to learn. One little orphan, who a year ago could not read his letters, has made considerable proficiency in his accidence. The blessed Spirit has been striving with several of the children, and I hope, ere long, to see some ministers sent forth from Georgia.

“The constitution of that colony is very bad, and it is impossible for the inhabitants to subsist without the use of slaves. But God has put it into the hearts of my South Carolina friends, to contribute liberally towards purchasing, in this province, a plantation and slaves, which I purpose to devote to the support of Bethesda. Blessed be God! the purchase is made. Last week, I bought, at a very cheap rate, a plantation of six hundred and forty acres of excellent land, with a good house, barn, and out-houses, and sixty acres of ground ready cleared, fenced, and fit for rice, corn, and everything that will be necessary for provisions. One negro has been given me. Some more I purpose to purchase this week. An overseer is put upon the plantation, and, I trust, a sufficient quantity of provisions will be raised this year. The family at Bethesda consists of twenty-six. When my arrears are discharged, I intend to increase the number. I hope that God will still stir up the friends of Zion to help me, not only to discharge the arrears, but also to bring the plantation, lately purchased, to such perfection, that, if I should die shortly, Bethesda may yet be provided for.

“As you have been such a benefactor, I thought it proper to give you this particular account.

“George Whitefield.”170

In all respects, this is a hateful letter. No doubt, it is injurious to Whitefield’s character and fame; but it could not be honestly withheld. Some people, perhaps, may be able to invent excuses for Whitefield’s odious act; but I am not disposed to help them. His motives might be good, but the transaction itself was bad. Let it pass, as one of the blots of a distinguished life.

A week after the letter was written, Whitefield and his wife set out for Maryland, and occupied about five weeks in reaching Bohemia. Here he spent a month, and wrote:—

“Glad would I be to come and offer myself once more to do New England service; but I am afraid many of the ministers and the heads of the people would not bear it. However, were this my only reason, it would soon be answered; but here are thousands in these southern parts who scarce ever heard of redeeming grace. Is it not my duty, as an itinerant, to go where the gospel has not been named? Those who think I want to make a party, or to disturb churches, do not know me. I am willing to hunt in the woods after sinners; and could be content that the name of George Whitefield shall die, if thereby the name of my dear Redeemer could be exalted.”

Here, as elsewhere, his labours were incessant. Under the date of “May 21, 1747,” he writes:—

“I have now been upon the stretch, preaching constantly, for almost three weeks. My body is often extremely weak, but the joy of the Lord is my strength; and, by the help of God, I intend going on till I drop. These southern colonies lie in darkness, and yet, as far as I find, are as willing to receive the gospel as others. I have been a three hundred mile circuit in Maryland; and everywhere the people have a hearing ear, and, I trust, some have an obedient heart.”

From Maryland, Whitefield proceeded to Pennsylvania. “We travelled,” says he, “very pleasantly through the woods; and purpose returning to South Carolina and Georgia in the fall. We lead a moving life; but I trust we move heavenward.”

On arriving at Philadelphia, Whitefield was in a fever; and no wonder, considering his outdoor preachings amid the burning sunshine of South America. The following is from a letter to Howell Harris:—

“Philadelphia, May 30, 1747.

“My dearest Brother,—Had I strength equal to my will, you should now receive from me a very long letter; but, at present, I have such a fever upon me that I can scarce send you a few lines.

“You are very dear to me,—all of you are very dear to me. I thank you ten thousand times for all expressions of your tender love, and your steadiness in the truths and cause of Christ. Sometimes I hope your prayers will draw me to England more speedily than I imagine. But what shall I say? Here are thousands and thousands, in these parts of America, who, as to spiritual things, know not their right hand from their left; and yet are ready to hear the gospel from my mouth. Within these four weeks, I have been a circuit of four hundred miles, and everywhere found the fields white already unto harvest. No one goes out scarcely but myself.

“I trust the power of religion will be kept up in England and Wales. Though my coming may be delayed, I hope, when I am sent, it will be with a greater blessing. I am daily finishing my outward affairs, and shall think my call to England clearer, when I have provided for the support of the Orphan House.

“My dear man, I could write all night, but I am so giddy by hard riding, and preaching daily in the heat, that I must defer being more particular till another opportunity. I hope my dear wife will supply my deficiencies. Remember me in the tenderest manner to all. Bid them pray me to England. Have you seen my last volume of five sermons? I hope the gates of hell will never prevail against the Tabernacle. Amen and amen!”171

The next is an extract from Mrs. Whitefield’s letter, also addressed to Harris, and written at the same date:—

“Philadelphia, May 30, 1747.

“My very dear Father and Friend,—What shall I say to him I so much love and honour? My dear friends, in England, at the Tabernacle, and in Wales, can never be forgotten by me.

“The Lord has done great things for and by my dear master. Since last October, great numbers of precious souls have been brought from darkness to light, in the six provinces. Last night, my dear came here from a four hundred miles journey, during which he preached about thirty times. We left Charleston on March 21st, and came to Bohemia, in Maryland, on April 27th. He preached all the way, which has very much fatigued him, and now he has a great fever upon him.

“Yours in the best of bonds,

“Elizabeth Whitefield.

“P.S.—Since writing the above, the Lord has enabled my very dear master to preach, in the new building,172 a most moving discourse upon growing in grace. I thought it would have been impossible for his strength to have held out.”173

A few days afterwards, Whitefield wrote as follows:—

“Philadelphia, June 4, 1747.

“At present, my whole frame of nature seems to be shocked. I have had several returns of my convulsions, and have almost a continual burning fever. To oblige my friends, and with great regret, I have omitted preaching one night, and purpose to do so once more, that they may not charge me with murdering myself; but I hope yet to die in the pulpit, or soon after I come out of it. Dying is exceeding pleasant to me; for though my body is so weak, the Lord causes my soul to rejoice exceedingly. Letters from England have refreshed me. All of them call me home loudly. Congregations here are as large as ever. Next Monday-week, I purpose to set out for New York.”

Whitefield’s journey to New York had to be postponed. Hence the following:—

“Philadelphia, June 23, 1747.

“I have been several times on the verge of eternity. To-morrow, God willing, I set out for New York, to see if I can gain strength. At present, I am so weak, that I cannot preach. It is hard work to be silent; but I must be tried every way. Friends are exceeding kind; but the best of all is, the Friend of sinners looks in upon me, and comforts my heart.”

On reaching New York, Whitefield wrote to Howell Harris:—

“New York, June 27, 1747.

“My very dear, dear Brother,—It is with much pleasure I now sit down to answer your kind and welcome letters. They have had such an effect upon me, that, God willing, I am determined to embark for England, or Scotland, early next spring. Till Christmas, I am already under indissoluble engagements. I am making a strong effort to get free from my outward embarrassments; and hope, before the year is ended, to stock my new plantation in South Carolina, as a visible fund for the Orphan House.

“For some weeks past, I have been exceedingly indisposed. God has been pleased to bring me to the very brink of the grave, by convulsions, gravel, nervous colic, and a violent fever; but as afflictions abounded, consolations much more abounded, and my soul longed to take its flight to Jesus. I have not preached for a week past; but since my leaving Philadelphia, three days ago, I seem to have gathered strength, and hope once more, to-morrow, to proclaim amongst poor sinners the unsearchable riches of Christ. From hence, I purpose to go to Boston, and return by land, so as to reach Charleston in November.

“You will return my most humble and dutiful respects to good Lady Huntingdon, the Marquis, and Mrs. Edwin.174 If possible, I will write to them. I leave my affairs to you, and depend on you, under God, to transact them all. The trouble is great, but Jesus will reward thee. Near £40 yearly were subscribed in England to the Orphan House; but I have received, I think, not above £5.”175

With the slightest improvement in his health, Whitefield resumed preaching. The following was addressed to Thomas Adams, one of his preachers in England:—

“New York, July 4, 1747.

“My very dear Brother Adams,—Your kind letter has affected me much. It and the other letters have constrained me to set my face towards England. I hope to discharge what is due in America, for the Orphan House, this year. I am of your mind respecting the work in England; and, therefore, am willing so to settle my affairs, that, when I come, I may stay with you for a long season.

“At present, I am very weakly, and scarce able to preach above once or twice a week; but if our Saviour has further work for me to do, He can make me young and lusty as the eagle. If not, I shall go to Him whom my soul loveth, and whom I long to see.”176

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

“I have recovered a little strength, and find my appetite restored. I have been here eight days; and, to-morrow, intend posting away to Boston; and then I shall take a long, if not a final, farewell of all my northward friends. I have preached twice with great freedom. People flock rather more than ever, and the Lord vouchsafes us solemn meetings. I have left my dear yoke-fellow at Philadelphia, and expect to meet her again, in New York, in six weeks. In these three northward provinces, I trust something considerable will be done towards paying off the Orphan-house arrears. When that is effected, I care not how soon I sing my Nunc dimittis.”

Another letter, written at New York, must be added. It was addressed to John Cennick, who had seceded from Whitefield’s connexion, and joined the Moravians:—

“New York, July 5, 1747.

“My dear John,—Though sick and weak in body, the love I owe thee, for Jesus’ sake, constrains me to answer thy last kind letter, dated February 5. The other, mentioned therein, never came to hand.

“I am sorry to hear there are yet disputings amongst us about brick walls. After our contests of that kind about seven years ago,177 I hoped such a scene would never appear again; but I find fresh offences must come, to discover to us fresh corruptions, to try our faith, to teach us to cease from man, and to lean more upon God.

“It has been thy meat and drink to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ. Mayest thou continue in this plan! I wish thee much success, and shall always pray that the work of the Lord may prosper in thy hands. Whether thou hast changed thy principles with thy situation, I know not. I would only caution thee against taking anything for gospel upon the mere authority of man. Go where thou wilt, though thou shouldest be in the purest society under heaven, thou wilt find that the best of men are but men at best, and wilt meet with stumbling-blocks enough, to teach thee the necessity of a continual dependence on the Lord Jesus, who alone is infallible, and will not give that glory to another.

“My dear man, thou wilt excuse me, as my heart, at present, is affected with the divisions that subsist between the servants and churches of Jesus Christ. May Jesus heal them, and hasten the blessed time, when we shall all see eye to eye, and there shall be no disputings about houses, doctrine, or discipline, in all God’s holy mountain!”

On July 20, Whitefield arrived at Boston, and next day wrote to Herbert Jenkins:—178

“I hear the glorious Emmanuel has prospered the work of your hands at Plymouth, and elsewhere. May He bless and prosper you, and the rest of my dear brethren, yet more and more! I hope you will live in unity, and let Satan get no advantage over you. ‘Divide and destroy,’ is the devil’s motto. ‘Force united,’ is the Christian’s. Oh that when I come to see you, I may see you walking in love!”179

On August 9th, he wrote as follows to Howell Harris:—

“I have been in New England nearly three weeks. The Lord is with me. Congregations are as great as ever. I could gladly stay in New England, but I must return to the southern provinces. Though faint, I am still pursuing, and, in the strength of Jesus, hope to die fighting.”180

Whitefield’s labours in the north were not confined to Boston. The following is taken from the New England Gazette:—

“Mr. Whitefield came, on Tuesday evening, July 21, to the seat of his friend, Isaac Royal, Esq., at Charlestown; where, on the next day, several gentlemen of note from Boston paid him a friendly visit. On Thursday, the 23rd, he set out for Portsmouth, where he arrived on Friday, and, that evening, preached there, to a crowded audience, with as great acceptance as ever. Thence, he was invited to dine with Sir William Pepperell and his lady at Kittery, who entertained him with their usual great politeness and generosity. Thence, he went and preached at York; the Rev. Mr. Moody and his people received him with the most hearty welcome. Thence, he returned to Portsmouth, where he preached again, all the people treating him with gentleman-like civility. On July 29, he preached at Newbury, and would have come on to Boston, but was so earnestly solicited to go back and preach at Exeter and Durham, that he could not resist the importunity.”

Returning southwards, Whitefield reached New York on August 27, where he wrote half a dozen letters, from which the following sentences are culled:—

“We were detained three or four days upon the water; but it was over-ruled for good. I recovered my appetite, and eat like a sailor. My health is considerably recruited. My obligations to my glorious Jesus are increased by my late excursion to Charlestown, Portsmouth, Boston, and other places in New England. I am of the same mind as when at Boston,—resolved to preach and work for Jesus, till I can preach and work no more. He is a good Master, and is worthy of all our time, and of everything that we possess. Is not one heart too little for Him? And, yet, He requires no more. Amazing love! I am lost when I think of it. I can only say, ‘Lord, I adore and worship!’”

On August 31, Whitefield set out for Philadelphia. At the risk of being tedious, further extracts from his letters must be given. To Howell Harris, he addressed the following:—

“Philadelphia, September 11, 1747.

“My very dear, dear Brother,—I have good news from Georgia, and from my new plantation in South Carolina. Many negroes are brought under conviction. We saw great things in New England. The flocking, and the power that attended the word, were like what we witnessed seven years ago. Weak as I was, I travelled eleven hundred miles, and preached daily. I am now going to Georgia, to settle all my affairs, and get ready to embark for England. My dear yoke-fellow is gone forwards. I find no inclination to settle. I am determined to die fighting. I am here travelling through a wilderness, but, I trust, leaning on my Beloved. Jesus is my rock, my stay, my God, my all. Various are the scenes I pass through; and various are the comforts and supports with which I meet. Sometimes, the Lord feeds me as it were by the ravens; and He daily teaches me that man’s extremity is His opportunity, to help and succour.”181

On the same day, Whitefield wrote letters to John and Charles Wesley. To the former, he says:—

“Dear and Reverend Sir,—Not long ago, I received your kind letter, dated in February last. Your others, I believe, came to hand, and I hope ere now you have received my answer. My heart is really for an outward, as well as inward union. Nothing shall be wanting on my part to bring it about; but I cannot see how it can be effected, till we all think and speak the same things. I rejoice to hear, that you and your brother are more moderate with respect to sinless perfection. As for universal redemption, if we omit on each side the talking for or against reprobation, which we may do fairly, and agree, as we already do, in giving a universal offer to all poor sinners that will come and taste the water of life, I think we may manage very well. But it is difficult to manage such matters at a distance. Some time next year, I hope to see you face to face.”

So much concerning the amalgamation of their respective Societies. In reference to the battle of Culloden, and Whitefield’s Thanksgiving Sermon, on “Britain’s Mercies and Britain’s Duty,” he proceeds to say:—

“I rejoice to find that the Rebellion has been over-ruled for the awakening of many souls. Our Lord generally builds His temple in troublesome times. I cannot, upon the maturest deliberation, charge myself with a design to flatter in my sermon upon that occasion.182 You know my attachment to the present Establishment. Out of the fulness of my heart, my pen wrote.”

Passing to his Orphan-house affairs, Whitefield continues:—

“I have news of the awakening of several negroes at my new plantation, lately purchased in South Carolina. I hope ere long to be delivered from my outward embarrassments. I long to owe no man anything but love. This is a debt, reverend sir, I shall never be able to discharge to you, or your brother. Jesus will pay you all. I love and honour you very much, and rejoice in your success as much as in my own. O for heaven! where we shall mistake, judge, and grieve one another no more. Lately, I thought myself sailing into the blessed harbour; but it seems I must put out to sea again. Forgive, reverend sir, the prolixity of this. Love indites. I salute you for my dear fellow-pilgrim, who is gone forwards. Continue to pray for us, and assure yourself that you are always remembered by,

“Reverend and very dear sir, yours, etc.,

“George Whitefield.”

Whitefield’s letter to Charles Wesley was equally affectionate. He writes:—

“Philadelphia, September 11, 1747.

“Very dear Sir,—Both your letters and your prayers, I trust, have reached me. May mine reach you also, and then it will not be long ere we shall be one fold under one Shepherd. However, if this be not on earth, it will certainly be in heaven. Thither, I trust, we are hastening apace. Blessed be God! that your spiritual children are increasing. May they increase more and more! Jesus can maintain them all. He wills that His house should be full. Some have written me things to your disadvantage. I do not believe them. Love thinks no evil of a friend. Such are you to me. I love you most dearly. You will see my letter to your dear brother. That you may be guided into all truth, turn thousands and tens of thousands more unto righteousness, and shine as stars for ever and ever, is the hearty prayer of,

“Very dear sir, yours most affectionately,

“George Whitefield.”

In the foregoing extract from the New England Gazette, the Rev. Mr. Moody is mentioned. Samuel Moody was a memorable man. Having graduated in Harvard College, he was ordained in 1700, and, for forty-seven years, had been minister of York. He was eccentric, but eminent for piety and usefulness. In his younger years, he himself had been an itinerant, and had often preached beyond the limits of his own parish. Wherever he went, he was welcomed. Even the irreligious were impressed with the sanctity of his character, and were inspired with awe. He refused to have a fixed salary, as was usual, and elected to depend entirely on the free contributions of the people. He was frequently in straits, and almost dinnerless; but always felt confident that, in his extremity, a meal would be furnished by the providence of God. One day, he had no provisions and no money, but insisted upon having the cloth laid, saying to his wife, “The Lord will provide.” No sooner were the words uttered, than there was a rap at the door, and a person presented him with a dinner. He was now in the seventy-first year of his age; and, within four months after the date of Whitefield’s visit, peacefully expired. The following touching letter was addressed to this venerable man only eight weeks before his death:—

“Bohemia, Maryland, September 17, 1747.

“Honoured Sir,—Will you permit a young soldier of Jesus Christ to write to an experienced veteran, before he goes hence and is no more seen? I am sorry that my visit to York was short, yet glad that our Lord gave me to see you once more ready to sing your ‘Nunc dimittis,’ with steadiness and composure, if not with joy unspeakable. Happy, thrice happy, reverend sir! You have gone through that wilderness, which, if hoary hairs should be my lot, awaits me, your younger son and servant. Well! this is my comfort: I have the same Beloved to lean upon, as you have had. The way, though narrow, is not long; the gate, though strait, opens into life eternal. O that I might pass through it when young! But, Father, not my will, but Thine be done!

“Honoured sir, be pleased to pray for me. I remember you and your dear flock. May He, who kissed away the soul of His beloved Moses, appoint a Joshua to succeed you, when He bids you come up to the mount and die! I hope my cordial respects will find acceptance with your dear yoke-fellow; and I beg leave to subscribe myself, honoured sir, your most affectionate, though unworthy, younger son and willing servant in Him who liveth for ever,

“George Whitefield.”

Little more remains to be recorded respecting the year 1747. After spending a few days in Maryland, Whitefield passed into Virginia, where he “preached once, and would have preached oftener, but the small-pox was spreading.” He then “posted” to Bath-Town, North Carolina. Writing to a friend, he says:—

“I am hunting after poor lost sinners in these ungospelized wilds. People are willing to hear, and I am willing to preach. My body is weak, and a little riding fatigues me. I long to be dissolved, and to be with Jesus, but cannot die. I would have you still pray for me as a dying man; but O pray that I may not go off as a snuff. I would fain die blazing, not with human glory, but, with the love of Jesus.”

After riding “on horseback through the woods a hundred and sixty miles,” and preaching as he went, Whitefield, on October 18, arrived at Wilmington, Cape Fear. He then proceeded to Charleston; and, on October 26, set out for Georgia.183 He closed the year, however, at Charleston. Hence the following, addressed to John Edwards, one of his preachers:—

“Charleston, December 28, 1747.

“My very dear Brother Edwards,—I have but just time to inform you that I wait for answers, to my last letters, from dear brother Harris and you, in order to be determined about my coming to England. My affairs here are brought under foot. If friends at home exert themselves, I may be freed from all outward embarrassments. The Lord is yet with me. All is well at Bethesda, and at my new plantation. My dear yoke-fellow is at the Orphan House. We are always praying for you all. The Lord be with you! That we may keep an eternal new year in the New Jerusalem, is the hearty prayer of, my very dear man,

“Ever yours, whilst

“George Whitefield.”184

Early in the year 1748, Whitefield, instead of embarking for England, set sail for Bermudas. The following letters, to Howell Harris, will explain the reason:—

“Charleston, February 28, 1748.

“By this time, I hoped to have been on my way to England; but, having received no answers to the letters I sent you from New York and elsewhere, and in consequence of other concurring providences, I have been induced to believe it my duty to go to Bermudas. My dear yoke-fellow will stay behind, in these parts; and I purpose to return to her early in the fall. Meanwhile, I expect to hear from you; and, if my way seems clear, I do not despair of seeing you before Christmas next. Think not hard of me, my dear man, for thus deferring to come to you.

“I hope I have now got very near a sufficiency for the future support of Bethesda. If my friends in England will help me, I hope my arrears will be paid, and my heart be freed from a load which has lain on me for years. If not, the Friend of all will help me. On Him, my eyes wait; and, in obedience to Him, I go once more upon the mighty waters. My dear wife will have a trial in my being absent so long.

“Yours most affectionately and eternally in Christ Jesus,

“George Whitefield.”185

“On Board the ‘Ann,’ (Captain Tucker,) bound from Charleston to Bermudas, March 6, 1748.

“My very dear, dear Brother,—Just as I was coming on board, yours, dated October 16, was put into my hands. I have read it, and now believe I shall see you sooner than I expected. I have a great mind to come to you from New England. But what will Sarah say? I have left her behind me in the tent; and, should I bring her to England, my two families, in America, must be left without a head. Should I go without her, I fear, the trial will be too hard for her; but, if the Lord calls, I can put both her and myself into His all-bountiful hands.

“I am now going, on a fresh embassage, to Bermudas, after having had a profitable winter in these southern parts. Congregations in Charleston have been greater than ever; and Jesus has helped me to deliver my soul. Had I ten thousand lives, He should have them all. Excuse this scribble; I am just come on board.

“George Whitefield.”186

As every one knows, the Bermudas are a cluster of small islands, in the Atlantic Ocean, nearly four hundred in number, but, for the greater part, diminutive and barren. They were discovered by Juan Bermudas, a Spaniard, about the year 1522; but were not inhabited till 1609, when Sir George Somers was cast away upon them, and established a small settlement. The length of the colony is less than thirty miles, and the population, even at the present day, is not more than ten thousand, one half of whom are black and coloured persons. The soil of the inhabited islands (about five in number) is exceedingly fertile; vegetation is rapid; spring may be said to be perpetual; and fields and forests are clad with unfading verdure. In these clustered islets Whitefield landed on March 15; and here he spent eleven weeks, generally preaching once, and often twice, a day. In England, it was reported that he was dead. The Gentleman’s Magazine, for the month of May, in its “List of Deaths,” had the following:—

“April.—Rev. Mr. Whitefield, the famous itinerant preacher, and founder of the Methodists in Georgia.”

Fortunately, the rumour had afterwards to be corrected.

Whitefield met with the greatest courtesy and kindness in Bermudas. The Rev. Mr. Holiday, clergyman of Spanish-Point, received him in the most affectionate manner, and begged him to become his guest. The governor and the council invited him to dine with them. The Rev. Mr. Paul, an aged Presbyterian minister, offered him his pulpit. Colonels Butterfield, Corbusiers, and Gilbert, Captain Dorrel, and Judge Bascombe, gave him hospitable entertainments. He preached in the churches, in the Presbyterian meeting-house, in mansions, in cottages, and in the open air. Colonel Gilbert lent him his horse during his stay; and the gentlemen of the islands subscribed more than £100 sterling for his Orphan House. Some of the negroes were offended at him, because he reproved “their cursing, thieving, and lying,” and said, “their hearts were as black as their faces;” but, as a rule, they flocked to hear him, and were powerfully affected by his discourses.

Gillies gives extracts from the Journal which Whitefield wrote in Bermudas,—extracts filling fifteen printed pages; but the substance of the whole is contained in the following letter, addressed to a minister at Boston:—

“Bermudas, May 17, 1748.

“Rev. and dear Sir,—Nine weeks ago, I arrived here from Charleston. We had a safe and pleasant passage. We were nine days on board; and I do not remember hearing one single oath, from land to land.

“Mr. Holiday, a clergyman of the Church of England, received me with open heart and arms. The first Lord’s-day, after my arrival, I read prayers and preached in two of his parish churches; and the longer I stayed, the more kindly he behaved to me. The two other Church clergy chose to keep at a distance; but Mr. Paul, an aged Presbyterian minister, was very free to let me have the use of his meeting-house, and, as it was pretty large and in a central part of the island, I preached in it for eight Lord’s-days successively.

“His excellency, the governor, was pleased to come and hear me, when I preached in town, with most of the council and the principal gentlemen in the island. He treated me with great respect, and invited me more than once to dine with him. I have preached nearly seventy times; on the week-days chiefly in private houses, but sometimes in the open air, to larger assemblies, they tell me, than were ever seen upon the island before. The word has frequently been attended with Divine power, and many have been brought under convictions. I have spent nine happy weeks among them, and was never so little opposed, during so long a stay in any place. In a few days, I hope to embark, in the brig Betsy, (Captain Eastern,) for England.”187

Respecting his farewell sermon, Whitefield wrote:—

“After the service, many came weeping bitterly around me. Abundance of prayers were put up for my safe passage to England, and speedy return to Bermudas. Thanks be to the Lord for sending me hither! I have been received in a manner I dared not expect, and have met with little, very little, opposition. The inhabitants seem to be plain and open-hearted. They have also been open-handed; for they have loaded me with provisions for my voyage, and, by a private voluntary contribution, have raised me upwards of £100 sterling. This will pay a little of Bethesda’s debt, and enable me to make such a remittance to my dear yoke-fellow, as may keep her from being embarrassed in my absence.”188

This was Whitefield’s only visit to Bermudas. He wrote: “An entrance is now made into the islands. The Lord, who has begun, can and will carry on His own work.” It was long before Whitefield’s hope was realized. Fifty-one years afterwards, Wesley’s Methodist Conference sent to the islands the Rev. John Stephenson. The white population hated the missionary, because he was the friend of the enslaved blacks; and, before long, he was apprehended, tried, condemned, and sentenced to six months’ imprisonment, besides having to pay a fine of £50, and all the expenses of his trial. At the end of his imprisonment, Mr. Stephenson was expelled the colony, and the Methodist mission was abandoned. Eight years afterwards, it was resumed by the Rev. Joshua Marsden; in due time, it had the honour of giving to Methodism the well-known Rev. Edward Frazer; and, in this year, 1876, it has three missionaries, and between four and five hundred church members.

On the 2nd of June, Whitefield embarked for England, the wife of the governor of Bermudas being one of his fellow passengers. When approaching the end of his voyage, he wrote, as follows, to a friend:—

“On Board the ‘Betsy,’ June 24, 1748.

“Rev. and very dear Sir,—Though we are about two hundred leagues from land, yet, lest hurry of business should prevent me when we get ashore, I think proper to write you a few lines whilst I am on board.

“We sailed from Bermudas twenty-one days ago, and have lived, as to the conveniences of eating and drinking, like people from the continent, rather than from one of the islands; so bountiful were our friends, whom we left behind us. Hitherto, we have met with no storms or contrary winds. The first day we came out, we were chased; and, yesterday, a large French vessel shot thrice at us, and bore down upon us. We gave up all for lost; and I was dressing to receive our expected visitors; when our captain cried, ‘The danger is over;’ and the Frenchman turned about and left us. He was quite near, and we were almost defenceless. Now we are so near the Channel, we expect such alarms daily.

“The captain is exceedingly civil, and I have my passage free; but all I have been able to do, in respect to religious duties, is to read the Church prayers once every evening, and twice on Sundays. I have not preached yet. This may spare my lungs, but it grieves my heart. I long to be ashore, if it were for no other reason.

“Besides, I can do little in respect to writing. You may guess how it is, when I tell you we have four gentlewomen in the cabin. However, they have been very civil, and I believe my being on board has been serviceable. I have finished my abridgment of Mr. Law’s ‘Serious Call,’ which I have endeavoured to gospelize. Yesterday, I made an end of revising all my Journals. I purpose to have a new edition before I see America.

“Alas, alas! In how many things have I judged and acted wrong! I have been too rash and hasty in giving characters, both of places and persons. Being fond of Scripture language, I have often used a style too apostolical; and, at the same time, I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wild-fire has been mixed with it: and I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assistance of the Spirit of God. I have, likewise, too much made impressions my rule of acting; and have published too soon, and too explicitly, what had been better told after my death. By these things, I have hurt the blessed cause I would defend, and have stirred up needless opposition. This has much humbled me, since I have been on board, and has made me think of a saying of Mr. Henry’s, ‘Joseph had more honesty than he had policy, or he would never have told his dreams.’

“At the same time, I cannot but bless and praise that good and gracious God, who filled me with so much of His holy fire, and carried me, a poor weak youth, through such a torrent both of popularity and contempt, and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless Him for ripening my judgment a little more, and for giving me to see and confess, and, I hope, in some degree, to correct and amend, some of my mistakes. If I have time before we land, I think to write a short account of what has happened for these seven years last past; and, when I get on shore, I purpose to revise and correct the first part of my Life.”

All must admire this ingenuous confession. Never was the Latin proverb better illustrated than in the case of Whitefield: “Fas est ab hoste doceri.” In both mild and savage language, Whitefield had often been accused of such faults and errors; and now, when he has time to think, he honestly confesses them.

Whitefield landed at Deal on June 30th, and six days afterwards arrived in London.189 One of his first acts, when he stepped ashore, was to write the following hearty and loving letter “to the Rev. Mr. John or Charles Wesley.”

“Deal, July, 1748.

“Will you not be glad to hear that the God of the seas and of the dry land has brought me to my native country once more? I came last from the Bermudas, where the Friend of sinners was pleased to own my poor labours abundantly. I hope, I come in the spirit of love, desiring to study and pursue those things which make for peace. This is the language of my heart:—

‘O let us find the ancient way,

Our wondering foes to move;

And force the heathen world to say,

See how these Christians love.’

“I purpose to be in London in a few days. Meanwhile, I salute you and all the followers of the blessed Lamb of God most heartily. Be pleased to pray for, and give thanks in behalf of, reverend and dear brother, yours most affectionately in Christ,

“George Whitefield.”

Apart from his first visit to America, Whitefield had now spent about four years and a half in itinerant preaching throughout England’s transatlantic colonies. Except the religious movement, which began at Northampton in 1734, and declined in 1736, the time spent in Whitefield’s second and third visits to America covered the entire period of what has been termed “the great awakening.” What were the results of that remarkable work of God? In reference to the churches of New England only, it has been carefully estimated that from thirty to forty thousand persons were permanently added to their membership. With these also must be joined a large number who, after a time, “fell away;” and likewise the multitudes who were “melted” and made to weep by Whitefield’s eloquence, but were not converted. Further, it must be kept in mind, that, up to this period, the practice of admitting to the communion all persons, though unconverted, who were neither heretical nor scandalous, was general in the Presbyterian Church, and prevailed extensively among the Congregational churches; the result being, that a large proportion of the members of these churches, though orthodox and moral, were unregenerated. Multitudes of these were now, for the first time, made the subjects of a saving change. Indeed, in some cases, the revival seems to have been almost wholly within the Church, and to have resulted in the conversion of nearly all the members. These, at the best, had been dead weights to their respective communities; but now they became active and valuable workers.

Again: it is useless to deny that there were a large number of unconverted ministers, especially in New England. Young men, without even the appearance of piety, were received into the colleges to prepare for the ministry. Graduates, if found to possess competent knowledge, were ordained as a matter of course, quite irrespective of their being born again. The result was, that in New England and in all the colonies, an unconverted ministry, to a lamentable extent, was the bane of the churches. “The great awakening,” however, reached not only the pews, but the pulpits and the colleges of the Christian community. In the vicinity of Boston only, there were not fewer than twenty ministers who acknowledged Whitefield as the means of their conversion; and in other parts of the country, there were proportionate numbers. This was an incalculable gain. The great curse of the Church was turned into an equally great blessing. Yea, more than this, the revival fully and finally killed the doctrine that an unconverted ministry might be tolerated; and, henceforth, parents felt that they were not doing a worthy deed by consecrating their unregenerated sons to the office of the Christian ministry, and sending them to colleges to be prepared for it.190

Other immediate results of “the great awakening” might be mentioned, but these are sufficient to evoke the grateful exclamation, “What hath God wrought!”