Memoirs of the life of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A. late Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon: in which every circumstance worthy of notice, both in his private and public character, is recorded. Faithfully selected from his original papers, journals, and letters. Illustrated by a variety of interesting and entertaining anecdotes, from the best authorities. : To which are added, a particular account of his death and funeral; and extracts from the sermons, which were preached on that occasion. / Compiled by the Rev. John Gillies, D.D. ; [Four lines of Scripture quotations]

MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

CHAP. I. From his Birth, to his going to the University of OX|FORD, Anno 1732.

_THIS eminent and pious servant of Christ, Mr. GEORGE WHITE|FIELD, was born at Gloucester, on the 16th day of December, O. S. 1714. His father, Thomas Whitefield, nephew of the Rev. Mr. Samuel Whitefield of Rock|hampton, in Gloucestershire * 1.1, was first bred to the employment of a wine merchant in Bristol; but afterwards kept an inn in the city of

Gloucester. In Bristol he married Mistress Elizabeth Edwards, who was related to the Blackwells and the Dimours of that city; by whom he had six sons and one daughter * 1.2. Of these, George was the youngest, who being bereaved of his father, when only two years old, was regarded by his mother with a peculiar ten|derness, and educated with more than ordinary care.

He was early under religious impressions; but the bent of his nature, and the general course of his younger years, as himself acknowledges † 1.3 with ex|pressions of shame and self-condemnation, was of a ve|ry different kind.

Between the years of twelve and fifteen, he made a good progress in the Latin classics, at the public

school: and his eloquence began to appear, even at that early period, in the speeches which he delivered at the annual visitations. It is probable, the applause he received on these occasions, contributed to his fond|ness for theatrical amusements: From whence it has been insinuated, that he learned his oratory upon the stage. This, however, seems to have no other foun|dation, than his acting a part sometimes with his fel|low scholars; particularly, in certain dramatic per|formances prepared for them by their master: For that he was more indebted as an orator to nature, than to art of any kind, must be evident to all persons of dis|cernment who were acquainted with him. Such could not fail to observe, that his eloquence was in a great measure the effect of his genius, and proceeded chiefly from that peculiar assemblage of extraordinary talents with which God had endowed him.

Notwithstanding this, it appears from his conduct, that he either had not yet discovered where his talents lay, or could not find means to qualify himself for en|tering into any profession where they might be proper|ly exercised: for, when he was about fifteen years of age, he declined the pursuit of learning, and talked 〈◊〉〈◊〉 getting an education that would better fit him for ••|siness. During this period, he still continued to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with his mother; and as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 circumstances were not then so easy as before, he did not scruple to assist her in the business of the tavern. But the prevailing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his genius began now strongly to discover itself; for even in this unfavourable situation, he ••posed several sermons, one of which he dedicated in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eldest brother: And after having visited him at ••|tol, he came home with a resolution to abandon his present employment, and to turn his thoughts a diffe|rent way.

After this, being for some time disengaged 〈…〉〈…〉 every pursuit, and but poorly supported out 〈…〉〈…〉 in others scanty subsistence, he was in no small 〈◊〉〈◊〉

of being utterly ruined by the influence of his former companions: but it pleased God to break the snare by filling him with an abhorrence of their evil deeds.

About this time, the impressions of religion began again to recover their influence in his breast: And when he was seventeen years of age, he received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. He now became more and more watchful, both over his heart and conversa|tion. He was frequently employed in fasting and prayer; spentmuch of his time in reading books of de|votion; attended public worship twice every day; and so deeply was he engaged in these exercises, that his thoughts were constantly set on the great things of religion.

CHAP. II. From the Time of his going to the University of OXFORD, to his embarking for GEORGIA, Anno 1737.

WHEN Mr. Whitefield arrived at eighteen, he was sent to the University of Oxford, where he was again exposed to the society of the wick|ed: But remembering his former danger and delive|rance, by the grace of God, he resisted all their soli|citations, and cultivated an acquaintance with the Methodists, as the only persons that seemed to pre|serve a sense of religion, through the whole of their deportment.

It would be going beyond our purpose, to give an account of the rise of Methodism: For this, the reader is referred to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley's first Journal. But it may not be improper to notice the

spirit of the age, when it first appeared. At that time, serious and practical christianity in England was in a very low condition; scriptural, experimental religion, (which in the last century used to be the subject of the sermons and writings of the clergy) was become quite unfashionable; and the only thing insisted on, was a defence of the out-works of christianity against the objections of infidels. What was the consequence? The writings of infidels multiplied every day, and in|fidelity made a rapid progress among persons of every rank, not because they were reasoned into it by the force of argument, but because they were kept stran|gers to Christ and the power of the gospel. We have a most affecting description of this, by Bishop Butler, whom none will suspect of exaggerating the fact:

* 1.4 It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted, by many persons, that christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry; but that it is, now at length, discovered to be fictitious; and, ac|cordingly they treat it, as if in the present age, this were an agreed point among all people of dis|cernment; and nothing remained but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule; as it were by way of reprisals, for its having so long in|terrupted the pleasures of the world.

Such was the state of religion in England, and Scotland was greedily swallowing down the poison, when it pleased God to raise up the Methodists, as instruments to re|vive his work in the midst of abounding impiety, and to bring multitudes who had scarcely a form of godli|ness, to experience its quickening and renewing power.

Happy was it for Mr. Whitefield, that there was a Society of Methodists, at that time, in Oxford, but especially, that he became acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Charles Wesley, by whom he was treated with particular kindness. Such benefit did he receive un|der

his ministry, that he always accounted him his spiritual father. And Mr. Wesley's reciprocal affec|tion for him, stands recorded in the verses at the be|ginning of Mr. Whitefield's second and third Journals.

Like the other Methodists, Mr. Whitefield now began to live by rule, and to improve every moment of his time to the best advantage. He received the communion every Sabbath, visited the sick, and the jail prisoners, and read to the poor. For daring to be thus singularly religious, he soon incurred the displea|sure of his fellow-students, and felt the effects of it in their unkind behaviour. In the mean time, he was greatly distressed with melancholy thoughts, which were augmented by excessive bodily austerities. And at last, by reading, and perhaps misunderstanding some mystic writers, he was driven to imagine, that the best method he could take, was to shut himself up in his study, till he had perfectly mortified his own will, and was enabled to do good without any mixture of cor|rupt motives. He likewise imagined, that he must relinquish external duties, and public worship; and lastly, (which was no small trial and affliction to him) that he must deny himself the pleasure of conversing with his religious friends. In this pitiable state of mind, Mr. Charles Wesley found him one day, when he went to see him; apprized him of his danger, if he persisted in that way of life, and recommended to him his brother, as a person of greater experience; who readily gave him, from time to time, his friendly advice. Soon after this, however, he carried his ab|stinence and fasting to such an extreme, that his body was so emaciated and feeble, that he could hardly walk up stairs. His tutor therefore thought proper to call a physician, and it appeared by the event, he had rightly judged in doing so: for it pleased God to make the physician's care and medicines successful to his recovery.

His bodily health being restored, his soul was like|wise filled with peace and joy in believing on the Son of God. This joy was so great for some time, that go where he would, he could not help praising God con|tinually in his heart, and with some difficulty restrain|ed himself from doing it aloud. As he was urged to go into the country for confirming his health, he re|turned to his native air at Gloucester, where (his mind being now happily enlightened) he preferred the sa|cred writings to all other books, and read them with constant prayer; in which exercise he found unspeak|able delight and benefit. But inclination conspired with duty, to hinder him from consining his religion to himself: Having a heart formed for society and friendship, he could not think of shutting himself up in his closet; but made it his business to converse with young persons, about his own time of life, in order to awaken them to a sense of religion. God was pleas|ed soon to give success to his endeavours this way; for several of them joined with him, and notwith|standing the contempt they knew it would bring up|on them, met together from time to time for religi|ous exercises. He also there read to some poor peo|ple in the town, twice or thrice a week, and read and prayed with the prisoners in the county goal every day.

Being now about twenty-one years of age, he was sent for by Doctor Benson, Bishop of Gloucester; who told him, That though he had purposed to ordain none under three and twenty, yet he should reckon it his duty to ordain him whenever he applied. Upon which, at the earnest persuasions of his friends, he prepared for taking orders.

His behaviour on this occasion was very exempla|ry. He first studied the thirty-nine articles, that he might be satisfied of their being agreeable to Scrip|ture. Then he examined himself by the qualifica|tions of a Minister mentioned in the New Testament,

and by the questions that he knew were to be put to him at his ordination. On the Saturday, he was much in prayer for himself and those who were to be ordained with him. On the morning of his ordi|nation, (which was at Gloucester, Sunday, June 20, 1736) he rose early, and again read, with prayer, St. Paul's Epistles to Timothy, and after his ordination, went to the Lord's Table.

The Sunday following, he preached his sermon on The Necessity and Benefit of Religious Society, to a very crowded auditory; and that same week he set out for Oxford, whither he inclined to go, rather than to the parish which the Bishop would have given him; because it was the place where he might best prose|cute his studies, and where he hoped his labours might be most useful.

Last Sunday in the afternoon, I preach'd my first sermon in the church where I was baptized, and also first received the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Curiosity drew a large congregation to|gether. The sight, at first, a little awed me. But I was comforted with a heart-felt sense of the Divine presence: And soon found the advantage of hav|ing been accustomed to public speaking, when a boy at school; and of exhorting and teaching the pri|soners and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the university. By these means, I was kept from being daunted over much. As I pro|ceeded, I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd of those who knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of Gospel au|thority. Some few mocked; but most for the present seemed struck: and I have since heard, that a complaint had been made to the Bishop, that I drove fifteen mad, the first sermon. The worthy Prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten, before next Sunday * 1.5.

Soon after this, he was invited to officiate at the chapel of the Tower of London. The first time he preached in London, was August 1736, at Bishopsgate Church. Having a very young look, the people were surprised at his appearance, and seemed to sneer as he went up to the pulpit; but they had not heard him long, when their contempt was turned into esteem, and their smiles into grave attention. He continued at the Tower two months, preaching, catechising, and visit|ing the soldiers; and several serious young men came to hear his morning discourses on the Lord's day. In the mean time the letters which the Rev. Messieurs Wesleys and Ingham wrote home from Georgia, made him long to go and preach the Gospel in those parts; yet he waited till Providence should make his way more clear, and returning to Oxford, he found himself ve|ry happy in his former employments, and had much pleasure in reading Henry's Commentary on the Bible, and in the company of some religious young men, who met together in his chamber every day.

In November 1736, he was again called from Ox|ford, to Minister at Dummer in Hampshire. This was a new sphere of action among poor illiterate peo|ple; but he was soon reconciled to it, and thought he reaped no small profit by conversing with them. Nevertheless, he continued his studies with unwea|ried application: Dividing the day into three parts; eight hours for sleep and meals, eight for public pray|ers, catechising and visiting; and eight for study and retirement. During his stay here, he was invited to a very profitable curacy in London; but did not ac|cept of it, as he was still intent upon going abroad. Providence, at length, seemed to open a door to him; for he received letters, containing what he thought to be an invitation, to go to Georgia, from Mr. John Wesley, whose brother came over about this time to procure labourers. It is easy to judge, how readily this proposal would be embraced: and now that he thought himself clearly called, (many things concur|ring

to make his stay at home less necessary) he set his affairs in order, and in January 1737, went to take leave of his friends in Gloucester and Bristol. At Gloucester, the congregations when he preached, were very large, and very serious. At Bristol, many per|sons were forced to return from the churches where he was invited to preach, for want of room. He went also to Bath, where he was kindly received, and preach|ed twice. But he did not stay long at any of these places, being obliged to go to Oxford about the latter end of February; from whence he came up to London, to wait upon General Oglethorp and the Trustees for Georgia. He was soon introduced to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London, who both approved of his going abroad. While he continued at London, waiting for General Oglethorp, he preach|ed more frequently than he had done before, and greater numbers of people flocked to hear him. But finding that the General was not likely to sail for some time; and being under particular obligations to the Rev. Mr. Sampson Harris, Minister at Stone|house in Gloucestershire, he went at his request, to supply his charge, till he should dispatch some affairs in London. There he was very happy in his public ministrations, but especially in his retirements, which he used afterwards to reflect upon with great satisfac|tion * 1.6. On Mr. Harris's return, he left Stonehouse, and upon repeated invitations went a second time to Bristol, where he preached as usual about five times a week. Here the multitudes of his hearers still in|creased † 1.7. He was attended by persons of all ranks

and denominations; private religious societies were erected; a collection for the poor prisoners in New|gate, was made twice or thrice a week; and large encouragement was offered to him, if he would not go abroad.—During his stay at Bristol, which was from the end of May to the twenty-first of June, he paid a second short visit to Bath, were the people crowded, and were seriously affected as at Bristol, and not less than 160l. was collected for the poor of Geor|gia.

June 21, he preached his farewell-sermon at Bris|tol; and towards the end of the discourse, when he came to tell them, "it might be they would see him no more," the whole congregation was exceed|ingly affected; high and low, young and old, burst into a flood of tears. Multitudes, after sermon, fol|lowed him home weeping; and the next day he was employed from seven in the morning till midnight, in talking and giving advice to those who came to him, about the concerns of their souls and salvation.

From Bristol he went to Gloucester, and preached to a very crowded auditory; and after staying a few days went to Oxford, where he had an agreeable in|terview with the Methodists, and came to London about the end of August.

Here he was invited to preach and assist in admi|nistering the Sacrament in a great many churches. The congregations continually increased; and gene|rally on the Lord's-days, he used to preach four times to very large and very much affected auditories, and to walk ten or twelve miles in going to the different churches. His friends began to be afraid he would hurt himself; but he used to say,

He found by experience, the more he did, the more he might do for God.

His name was now put into the news-papers, (though without his consent or knowledge) as a young Gentleman going volunteer to Georgia, who

was to preach before the societies at their general quarterly meeting. This stirred up the people's cu|riosity more and more. He preached on that occa|sion, his sermon on Early Piety, which was printed at the request of the societies. After this, for near three months successively, there was no end of peo|ple's flocking to hear him, and the managers of the charity schools were continually applying to him to preach * 1.8 for the benefit of the children; for that purpose they procured the liberty of the churches on other days of the week besides the Lord's-day; and yet thousands went away from the largest churches, not being able to get in. The congregations were all attention, and seemed to hear as for eternity. He preached generally nine times a week, and often ad|ministered the Sacrament early on the Lord's-day morning, when you might see the streets filled with people going to church with lanthorns in their hands, and hear them conversing about the things of God.

As his popularity increased, opposition increased proportionably. Some of the clergy became angry; two of them sent for him, and told him, they would not let him preach in their pulpits any more, unless he renounced that part of the preface of his sermon on Regeneration, (lately published) wherein he wish|ed

that his brethren would entertain their audi|tories oftener with discourses upon the new-birth.

Probably some of them were irritated the more, by his free conversation with many of the serious Dissenters, who invited him to their houses, and repeatedly told him,

That if the doctrines of the new-birth, and justification by faith, were preached powerfully in the churches, there would be few Dissenters in England.

Nor was he without opposition even from some of his friends. But under these discourage|ments, he had great comfort in meeting every even|ing with a band of religious intimates, to spend an hour in prayer, for the advancement of the Gospel,

and for all their acquaintance, so far as they knew their circumstances. In this he had uncommon satisfaction: once he spent a whole night with them in prayer and praise; and sometimes at midnight, af|ter he had been quite wearied with the labours of the day, he found his strength renewed in this exercise, which made him compose his sermon upon Interces|sion.

The nearer the time of his embarkation approach|ed, the more affectionate and eager the people grew. Thousands and thousands of prayers were put up for him. They would run and stop him in the alleys of the churches, and follow him with wishful looks. But above all, it was hardest for him to part with his weeping friends at St. Dunstan's, where he helped to administer the Sacrament to them, after spending the night before in prayer: This parting was to him al|most insupportable.

CHAP. III. From the Time of his embarking for GEORGIA, to his re-embarking for ENGLAND, 1738.

IN the latter end of December, 1737, he embark|ed for Georgia* 1.9. This was to him a new, and at first appearance, a very unpromising scene. The ship was full of soldiers, and there were near twenty women among them. The Captains, both of the sol|diers

and sailors, with the surgeon, and a young cadet, gave him soon to understand, that they looked upon him as an impostor, and for a while treated him as such. The first Lord's day, one of them played on the hautboy, and nothing was to be seen but cards, and little heard but cursing and blasphemy. This was a very disagreeable situation; but it is worth while to observe, with what prudence he was helped to behave among them, and how God was pleased to bless his patient and persevering endeavours to do them good.

He began with the officers in the cabin, in the way of mild and gentle reproof; but this had little ef|fect.

I could do no more for a season, than whilst I was writing, now and then turn my head by way of reproof, to a Lieutenant of the soldiers, who swore as though he was born of a swearing consti|tution. Now, and then, he would take the hint, return my nod with a, Doctor I ask your par|don, and then to his cards and swearing again* 1.10.

He therefore tried what might be done between decks, among the soldiers. And though the place was not very commodious, he read prayers and expounded twice a day. At first he could not see any fruit of his labour, yet it was encouraging to find it so kindly received by his new red-coat parishioners, (as he calls them) many of whom submitted cheer|fully to be catechised about the lessons they had heard expounded.

In this situation things continued for some time. But all this while, he had no place for retirement, and there was no divine service in the great cabin, both which he greatly desired. At last he obtained his wish: one day finding the ship Captain a little inclined to favour him, he asked him to suffer him now and then to retire into the round-house, where the Captain slept, and offered him money for the loan

of it. The Captain would not take the money, but readily granted his request. Soon afterwards, the military Captain, having invited him to a dish of cof|fee, he took the liberty to tell him,

That though he was a volunteer on board, yet as he was on board, he looked upon himself as his Chaplain, and as such, he thought it a little odd, to pray and preach to the servants, and not to the master;

and added withal,

That if he thought proper, he would make use of a short collect now and then, to him, and the other Gentlemen in the great cabin.

After pausing a while, and shaking his head, he an|swered,

I think we may, when we have nothing else to do.

This aukward hint was all he got for the present; yet he was encouraged thereby to hope, that the desired point would soon be gained.

They were detained in the Downs, by contrary winds, for near a month; the soldiers on board be|came by this time more and more civilized, and the people at Deal heard him gladly. There he preach|ed thrice, at the invitation of the Ministers, and often expounded in the house where he lodged. This work was very delightful to him; but he was sudden|ly called away by a fair wind, about the end of Janu|ary, 1738, just after he had preached in Upper-Deal church.

Being returned to the ship, he began to comfort himself with some promising appearances of doing good in the great cabin. As he had no better place, he generally every night retired with his friend Mr. Habersham, and his brother, and two servants, be|hind the round-house, for prayer and other religious exercises. Sometimes, he perceived Captain Whit|ing was hearkening within. One day finding on the Captain's pillow the Independent Whig, he exchang-it for a book entitled, The Self-Deceiper. Next morning the Captain came smiling, and en|quired who made that exchange; Mr. Whitefield

confessed the charge, and begged his acceptance of the book, which he said he had read, and liked very well. From thenceforward, a visible alteration was seen in him. The other Captain also, about the same time, met him as he was coming from between decks, and desired,

that they might have public service and expounding twice a-day in the great cabin.

In about a fortnight, they reached Gibraltar, whither they were bound to take in some more soldiers. There, one Major Sinclair had been so kind as to provide a lodging for him unasked, who, with the other military Gentlemen, even Go|vernor Sabine, and General Columbine, received him most courteously. Being apprehensive, that at a public military table, he might be more than hos|pitably entertained, by way of prevention, he begged leave to remind his Excellency of an ob|servation made in the book of Esther, on the Court of the great Ahasuerus, "That none did compel." He took the hint, and genteely replied,

That no compulsion of any kind should be used at his table.

And every thing was carried on with great decorum. The officers attended at public wor|ship with order and gravity; the Ministers also be|haved with great civility; and all concurred to give him invitations to preach, which he did twice or thrice in the week:

Strange and unusual was the scene, both with respect to the place and people. The adjacent promontories, and the largeness of the rock of Gibraltar, helped me to enlarge any ideas of him, who in his strength setteth fast the mountains, and is girded about with power. And the place being, as it were, a public rendezvous of all nations, I thought I saw the world in epi|tome* 1.11.

In the evenings and mornings, when on board, he expounded, conversed and prayed

with a religious society of soldiers, who had liberty from the Governor to assemble at any time in the church. His evening expositions were attended, not only by the soldiers, but by officers, Ministers and town's-people; and from all that could be judged, his labours were not without the divine blessing.

Finding another society of religious soldiers there, belonging to the church of Scotland, he sent them, as well as the former, some proper books, talked with several of them, and endeavoured to unite both soci|eties together; urging on them the necessity of a catholic, disinterested love, and of joining in prayer for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ. This exhortation also, by the blessing of God, had a good effect; and two or three of the latter society being draughted out for Georgia, desired leave to go in the ship with Mr. Whitefield, which was readily al|lowed them.

Before the embarkation of the soldiers, by the Ge|neral's consent, he gave them a parting discourse in the church. And after embarkation, from time to time, as the weather permitted, he preached to them on board their respective ships * 1.12. Colonel Cochran, who commanded, was extremely civil: and soon after their setting sail, there was such a change upon Cap|tain Mackay, that he desired Mr. Whitefield would not give himself the trouble of expounding and praying in the cabin, and between decks; for he would order a drum to be beat morning and evening, and himself would attend with the soldiers on the

deck. This produced a very agreeable alteration; they were now as regular as in a church. Mr. Whitefield preached with a Captain on each side of him, and soldiers all around; and the two other ships companies, being now in the trade winds, drew near, and joined in the worship of God. The great cabin was now become a-Bethel; both Captains were daily more and more affected; and a crucified Sa|viour, and the things pertaining to the kingdom of God, were the usual topics of their conversation. Once after public sermon, Captain Mackay desired the soldiers to stop, whilst he informed them, that to his great shame, he had been a notorious swearer himself, but by the instrumentality of that Gentle|man, pointing to Mr. Whitefield, he had now left it off, and exhorted them, for Christ's sake, that they would go and do likewise. The children were cate|chised; there was a reformation throughout the sol|diery. The women cried,

What a change in our Captain.

The bad books and packs of cards which Mr. Whitefield exchanged for Bibles, and other religious books (abundance of which were given him to disperse by the Society for promoting Christian knowledge) were now thrown overboard; and a fever, that prevailed in general through the whole ship, helped to make the impressions sink deeper. For many days and nights, he visited betwixt twenty and thirty sick persons, crawling between decks upon his knees, administring medicines or cordials to them, and such advice as seemed suitable to their circumstances. The sailors did not escape the fever; Captain Whiting gladly went with him to visit them. One of them in particular, who had been a most notorious scoffer, sent for him in a bitter agony, crying out upon, and lamenting his wicked life. The cadet, who was a cabin passenger, being also seized, was wounded deeply, told Mr. Whitefield the history of his life, and informed Captain Mackay of his desire to leave

the army, and to return to his original intention (hav|ing had an university education) of devoting himself to the service of the church of God. Mr. Whitefield himself was also seized, but by the blessing of God, he soon recovered, and was strong enough, in about a week, to come out to the burial of the cook of the ship, who had boasted,

That he would be wicked till two years before he died, and then he would be good.

But he was suddenly taken ill and died in about six hours* 1.13.

It was the beginning of May, when they drew near to land. After preaching his farewell sermon, he ar|rived at the parsonage-house at Savannah, May 7, 1738, about four months after his first embarkation at Deptford.

Upon this voyage (many years after) he made the following reflection:

A long, and, I trust, not al|together unprofitable voyage. What shall I render to the Lord for all his mercies? Besides being strengthened to go through my public work, I was enabled to write letters and compose sermons, as though I had been on land. Even at this distance of time, the remembrance of the happy hours I enjoyed in religious exercises on the deck, is re|freshing to my soul. And though nature some|times relented at being taken away from my friends, and little unusual inconveniences of a sea-life; yet, a consciousness that I had in view the glory of God, and the good of souls, from time to time af|forded me unspeakable satisfaction † 1.14.

One Mr. Delamot, who had gone volunteer with Mr. Wesley, and was left behind by him as school|master

at Savannah, received Mr. Whitefield at the parsonage-house, which he found much better than expectation. Here some serious persons, the fruits of Mr. Wesley's ministry, soon came to see him. On the morrow he read prayers, and expounded in the court house, and waited upon the magistrates; but be|ing taken ill, he was confined for above a week with a fever and ague.

When he was recovered, and able to look about him, he found every thing bore the aspect of an in|fant colony: and, what was more discouraging still, he saw it was likely to continue so, by the very na|ture of its constitution.

The people (says he) were denied the use both of rum and slaves. The lands were allotted them, according to a particular plan, whether good or bad; and the female heirs prohibited from inheriting. So that in reality, to place people there on such a footing, was little better than to tie their legs and bid them walk. The scheme was well meant at home; but, as too many years experience evidently proved, was abso|lutely impracticable in so hot a country abroad. However, that rendered what I had brought over from my friends, more acceptable to the poor in|habitants, and gave me an occular demonstration, which was what I wanted, when the hint was given * 1.15 of the great necessity and promising utility of a future orphan-house, which I now determined, by the divine assistance, to set about in earnest. The Saltzburgers at Ebenezer, I found had one; and having heard and read of what Professor Franck had done in that way in Germany, I confidently

hoped that something of the like nature might be owned and succeeded in Georgia. Many poor or|phans were there already, and the number was likely soon to increase.

As opportunity offered, I visited Frederica, and the adjacent villages, and often admired, consider|ing the circumstances and disposition of the first settlers, that so much was really done. The settlers were chiefly broken and decayed tradesmen from London and other parts of England; and several Scotch adverturers; some Highlanders, who had a worthy Minister, named Maclcod; a few Moravi|ans; and the Saltzburghers, who were by far the most industrious of the whole. With the worthy ministers of Ebenezer, Messrs. Grenaw and Bolt|zius, I contracted an intimacy. Many praying people were in the congregation, which, with the consideration that so many charitable people in England had been stirred up to contribute to Geor|gia, and such faithful labourers as Messrs. Wesleys and Ingham had been sent, gave me great hopes, that, unpromising as the aspect at present might be, the colony might emerge in time out of its in|fant state. Some small advances Mr. Ingham had made towards converting the Indians, who were at a small settlement about four miles from Savan|nah. He went and lived among them for a few months, and began to compose an Indian gram|mar; but he was soon called away to England; and the Indians (who were only some run-away Creeks) were in a few years scattered or dead. Mr. Charles Wesley had chiefly acted as Secretary to General Oglethorpe, but he soon also went to Eng|land to engage more labourers; and not long af|ter, his brother, Mr. John Wesley, having met with unworthy treatment, both at Frederica and Georgia, soon followed. All this I was apprized of, but think it most prudent not to repeat grie|vances.

Through divine mercy, I met with re|spectful treatment from magistrates, officers and people. The first I visited now and then, the others, besides preaching twice a day, and four times of a Lord's day, I visited from house to house: I was, in general, most cordially received; but from time to time found, that Coelum non ani|mum mutant, qui trans mare currunt: Though lowered in their circumstances, a sense of what they formerly were in their native country, remained. It was plain to be seen, that coming over was not so much out of choice, as constraint: choosing ra|ther to be poor in an unknown country abroad, than beholden to relations, or live among those who knew them in more affluent circumstances at home. Among some of these, the event however proved, that the word took effectual root. I was really happy in my little foreign cure, and could have cheerfully remained among them, had I not been obliged to return to England, to receive priest's orders, and make a beginning towards lay|ing a foundation to the Orphan-house. And thus the place I intended to hide myself in, became, through my being obliged to return for these pur|poses a means of increasing that popularity which was already begun, but which by me was abso|lutely unforseen, and as absolutely undesign|ed. During my stay there, the weather was most intensely hot, sometimes burning me almost through my shoes. Seeing others do it who were as unable, I determined to enure myself to hardiness, by lying constantly on the ground; which by use, I found to be so far from being a hardship, that afterwards it became so, to lie on a bed* 1.16.

About the middle of August, having settled ore that came with him as schoolmaster in a neighbouring village, and left his friend Mr. Habersham at Savan|nah,

after an affectionate parting with his flock, he set out for Charlestown, in South-Carolina.

Here he paid his first visit to Commissary Garden, and at his entreaty preached the next Sunday morn|ing and evening, in a grand church, resembling one of the new churches in London. The inhabitants seemed at his first coming up to despise his youth; but their countenances were altered before worship was over. Mr. Garden thanked him most cordially, and apprized him of the ill treatment Mr. Wesley had met with in Georgia, and assured him, that were the same arbitrary proceedings to commence against him, he would defend him with his life and fortune. He also said something about the colony of Georgia that much encouraged him, as if he thought its flourishing was not very far off; and that Charlestown was fifteen times bigger now, than when he (Mr. Garden) first came there.

CHAP. IV. From his Embarkation at CHARLESTOWN for LON|DON, to his preaching first in MOREFIELDS, 1739.

SEPTEMBER 6, 1738, Mr. Whitefield em|barked in a ship bound from Charlestown to London. They had a very uncomfortable passage, for near a fortnight, they were beat about not far from the bar; they were soon reduced to an allowance of water; and the ship itself was quite out of repair. They were also very poorly off for provisions. When they were about a third part of their passage, they met with a Jamaica man who had plenty of every thing. He sent for Mr. Whitefield on board, and offered him a most commodious birth; but he did not think it right to leave his ship-mates in distress, and therefore returned to his own ship, with such things as they were pleased to give him. The remaining part of the voyage was still more perilous. The only thing comfortable, was, that in the midst of these trials, deep impressions were made on some that were on board. All constantly attended public worship twice and some thrice a day. Once the Captain cried out,

Lord, break this hard heart of mine.

Others were impressed: particularly one Captain Gladman a passenger, on whom a great change was wrought, and afterwards, at his own earnest request, became Mr. Whitefield's fellow-tra|veller. At length, after nine weeks tossing and beat|ing to and fro they found themselves in Limerick harbour.

I wish I could never forget what I felt, when water and other provisions were brought us from ashore. One Mr. MacMahon, a country gentleman came from his seat at midnight on pur|pose

to relieve us, and most kindly invited me, tho' unknown, to his house to stay as long as I pleas|ed.* 1.17

At Limerick, Bishop Burscough received him very kindly, and engaged him to preach in the ca|thedral, the good effects of which he heard of many years after. From thence he went to Dublin, where he preached, and was courteously received by Dr. Delany, Bishop Rundel, and Archbishop Bolton, who had heard of him from a gentleman of Gibraltar. And after a passage of twenty-four hours from Du|blin, he arrived at Park-gate, Thursday, November 30, preached twice on the Lord's-day at Manche|ster, and came to London the Friday following, December 8.

Here, he had a conference with the Moravian bre|thren, who were lately come to London; and tho' he could not directly fall in with their way of expressing themselves, yet he heartily agreed with them in the old Protestant Doctrine of Justification in the sight of God, by Faith alone in the imputed righteousness of Christ; and was not a little delighted to find a great increase of the work of God, both as to light and love, doctrine and practice, through the instru|mentality of Mr. Charles, and especially of Mr. John Wesley.

Some of the clergy now began to shew their dis|pleasure more and more; so that in two days time, five churches were denied him. And tho' the Arch|bishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London, both received him civilly, it was but coldly: And the lat|ter enquired,

Whether his Journals were not a lit|tle tinctured with enthusiasm?

He replied, That they were written only for himself, and private friends and were published entirely without his consent, or knowledge, or so much as his consent being asked at all. It was certainly wrong to publish them, without

his consent and revisal; otherwise, the publication of them was a very proper way to prevent the misrepre|sentation of facts, either by calumny and detraction on the one hand, or by exaggeration on the other. And it is a great pity he did not continue them. They would have been the best possible memoirs of his life. But we see how the offence given by, or taken at, some passages, might help to determine him

to pro|ceed (as he afterwards says) in a more compendious way.

The Journals were, indeed, mostly written amidst his incessant labours in preaching, travelling, and writing a multitude of letters. And the whole was told with that unguarded simplicity, which tho' it charms the candid, and disposes them to forgive or overlook many things, yet gives frequent handle to the critical and severe. It must also be owned, that his unsuspecting honesty made him sometimes receive, with too little caution, the characters of persons and societies, from those whom he took to be friends of re|ligion, and who, perhaps, were really so, but were misinformed. Being therefore convinced, upon se|cond thoughts, that both his Journals, and the two first parts of his Life, needed correction, he promised a new edition of them, which he accordingly publish|ed in 1756. And in the preface he ingenuously ac|knowledges,

That upon a review, he had found many mistakes, (which are now rectified) and many passages that were justly exceptionable,

(which are now erased.) And in a note, upon September 24, 1740, he says,

In my former Journal, taking things by hearsay too much, I spoke and wrote too rashly, both of the Colleges and Ministers of New England; for which, as I have already done when at Boston last, from the pulpit, I take this opportunity of asking public pardon from the press. It was rash and un|charitable, and though well-meant, I fear, did hurt.

But these corrections, while they shew the author's candour and humility, do not affect the history

of his extraordinary labours and success in the work of the Gospel.

The Trustees for the Colony of Georgia received him more cordially, were pleased to express their satisfaction at the accounts sent them of his conduct, during his stay in the colony, and being requested, by letters sent un|known to him, from the Magistrates and Inhabitants, they most willingly presented him to the Living of Sa|vannah, (though he insisted upon having no sala|ry) and as readily granted him five hundred acres of land, whereon to erect an Orphan-house; to collect money for which, together with taking Priest's Orders, were the chief motives of his returning to England so soon.

Near a month elapsed, before a board sat to make him these returns. But during that interval, he was not idle. He and his brethren went on in their usual course, taking hold of every opportunity of do|ing good, and preaching occasionally as churches were allowed them * 1.18. And tho' the church-wardens and clergy were averse, yet the common people were rather more eager than ever. But what surprized him most was, to see many of the heads and members of the London Societies, (who, by the accounts given by Dr. Woodward and Horneck † 1.19, he thought were founded on a good bottom) make such vir••••ut oppo|sition. However, numbers of them were of another mind, and other Societies were soon formed in va|rious parts of the town. A large room in Fetter|lane was the general place of rendezvous, where they had frequent meetings, and great satisfaction in social prayer.

It was a Pentecost season indeed. Some|times

whole nights were spent in prayer. Often have we been filled as with new wine. And often have I seen them overwhelmed with the Divine Presence, and cry out, Will GOD, indeed, dwell with men upon earth! How dreadful is this place! This is no other than the house of GOD, and the gate of Heaven!* 1.20

At the same time, in the churches that were open, the people crowded, and were affected more than ever. And he and his bre|thren were so much engaged, that for some days he could walk, and preach, and visit Societies with very little sleep, and religious exercises seemed to be their meat and drink.

January 11, 1739, he set out for Oxford to receive Priest's Orders from his good friend Bishop Benson, which he did the next Lord's-day; and having preached and administred the Sacrament at the Castle, and preached again in the afternoon, to a crowded congregation, he returned to London, January 15.

As he had collected so much for the Charity schools last year, he reasonably supposed that the pulpits would not be denied him for the use of the Georgia Orphan-house this year. But the religious concern advancing, and spreading more and more, opposition also increased. A pamphlet was published against his sermon, On Regeneration. Several Clergymen made strong objections against him and his brethren for expounding in societies; and some people were threatened with prosecution by their parish ministers, for suffering them to expound in their houses. Yet this did not discourage either preachers or hearers. The more they were opposed, the more they were strengthened. New awakenings were heard of in va|rious parts; and, "What shall I do to be saved?" was the repeated question of every day.

All the pulpits were not as yet shut up: Two or three churches were allowed him to preach in, and to collect for the Georgia Orphans, and for erecting a church for the poor Saltzburghers at Ebenezer. One Mr. Broughton behaved nobly on this occasion. Application being made to him, to deny Mr. Whitefield his pulpit, he answered,

Hav|ing got the Lectureship of St. Helen's by Mr. Whitefield's influence; if he insists upon it, he shall have my pulpit.

Mr. Whitefield did insist upon it, but (Mr. Broughton losing the Lectureship) he afterwards blamed himself much for his con|duct.

In Bristol he had the use of the churches for two or three Sundays, but soon found they would not be open very long. The Dean was not at home: The Chancellor threatened to silence and suspend him. In about a fortnight every door was shut, except Newgate, where he preached, and collected for the poor prisoners, and where people thronged, and were much impressed; but this place, also was soon shut against him, by orders from the May|or.

Before his first embarkation for Georgia, when he talked of going abroad, numbers in Bristol used to reply,

What need of going abroad? Have we not Indians enough at home?

If you have a mind to convert Indians, there are colliers enough in Kingswood. And before he left London, whilst preaching at Bermondsey Church, and seeing so ma|ny thousands that could not come in, he had a strong inclination to go out and preach to them (though he then used notes) upon one of the tomb|stones in the church-yard. And this he mention|ed to some friends, who looked upon the motion, at first, very unfavourably; yet were willing to take it into farther consideration. At Bristol he thought he had a clear call to try this method. The colliers, he

had heard, were very rude, and very numerous; so uncultivated, that no body cared to go among them; neither had they any place of worship; and often, when provoked, they were a terror to the whole ci|ty of Bristol. He therefore looked upon the civiliz|ing of these people; and much more, the bringing of them to the profession and practice of christianity, as a matter of great importance.

I thought it might be doing the service of my Creator, who had a mountain for his pulpit, and the heavens for a sounding board; and who, when his Gos|pel was refused by the Jews, set his servants into the high ways and hedges* 1.21.

After much prayer, and many struggles with himself, he one day went to Hannam Mount, and standing upon a hill, be|gan to preach to about a hundred colliers, upon Matt. v. 1, 2, 3. This soon took air. At the se|cond and third time the numbers greatly increased, till the congregation, at a moderate computation, amounted to near twenty thousand. But with what gladness and eagerness, many of these despised out|casts, who had never been in a church in their lives, received the word, is above description.

Having (as he writes) no righteousness of their own to re|nounce, they were glad to hear of a Jesus who was a friend to publicans, and came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. The first dis|covery of their being affected, was to see the white gutters made by their tears, which plenti|fully fell down their black cheeks, as they came out of the coal pits. Hundreds and hundreds of them were soon brought under deep convictions, which (as the event proved) happily ended in a sound and thorough conversion. The change was visible to all, though numbers chose to impute it to any thing, rather than the finger of God. As the scene was quite new, and I had

just began to be an extempore preacher, it often occasioned many inward conflicts. Some|times, when twenty thousand people were before me, I had not, in my own apprehension, a word to say, either to God or them. But I was never totally deserted, and frequently (for to deny it would be lying against God) so assisted, that I knew by happy experience, what our Lord meant by saying, Out of his belly shall flow rivers of liv|ing water. The open firmament above me, the pro|spect of adjacent fields, with the sight of thousands, some in coaches, some on horseback and some in the trees, and at times all affected and drenched in tears together, to which sometimes was added, the solemnity of the approaching evening, was almost too much for, and quite overcame me* 1.22.

Besides the colliers, and thousands from neigh|bouring villages, persons of all ranks flocked daily out of Bristol. And he was soon invited to preach, by some of the better sort, in a large bowling-green in the city itself. Many indeed sneered, to see a stripling, with a gown, mount a table, upon what they called unconsecrated ground. And for once, or twice, it excited the contempt and laughter of the higher rank, who formerly were his admirers, when he preached in the churches. But God enabled him to stand the laugh, and to preach the Gospel of Christ with earnestness and constancy; and was pleased to attend it with his blessing. From all quarters, people flocked under great concern about their souls. Some|times he was employed almost from morning to night, giving answer to those who came in great dis|tress, crying out, "What shall we do to be saved?" More assistance was wanted; he therefore wrote to Mr. John Wesley, who had never yet been at Bristol, and having received a favourable answer, recommended him and his brother, in the strongest

manner, to the people, and earnestly prayed that the last might be first; for he was determined to pursue his scheme of the Orphan-house, and return again to his retreat at Georgia.

Mr. Wesley being come, he took an affectionate leave of his friends at Bristol, and made a second ex|cursion to Wales, where an awakening had begun some years before, by the instrumentality of the Rev. Mr. Griffith Jones, and was now carried on by the ministry of one Mr. Howel Harris, a layman. They met at Cardiff, and in company with many others went to Husk, Ponty-pool, Abergavenny, Comiboy, Carleon, Trelex, and Newport, and preached in all these places, Mr. Whitefield first in English, and Mr. Harris afterwards in Welch, to many thousands. The serious persons among them, of the Free Grace Dissenters, rejoiced; but many of high-flying principles, and of another stamp, were equally enraged, and expressed their dislike by mockings and threats. All these, however, he was enabled to bear with patience, and without the least discouragement.

About the 8th of April, from Wales he went to Gloucester, the place of his birth, where a church was allowed him for once or twice, but no more. However, he preached frequently in Boothall, (the place where the judges sit) and in his brother's field, to many thousands. At the time of Mr. Whitefield's preaching in Gloucester, old Mr. Cole, a dissenting Minister, used to say,

These are days of the Son of Man indeed.

This Mr. Cole, Mr. Whitefield when a boy, was taught to ridicule. And being asked once by one of his congregation, What busi|ness he would be of? He said,

A Minister; but he would take care never to tell stories in the pulpit like old Cole.

About twelve years after|wards, the old man hearing him preach, and tell some story to illustrate the subject he was upon,

and having been informed what he had before said, made this remark to one of his elders,

I find that young Whitefield can now tell stories, as well as old Cole.

He was much affected with Mr. Whitefield's preaching, and so humble, that he used to subscribe himself his curate; and went about preaching after him in the country from place to place. But one evening, whilst preaching, he was struck with death, and then asked for a chair to lean on, till he concluded his sermon, when he was car|ried up stairs, and died. Mr. Whitefield's reflection upon this (Letter DXXIII.) is,

O blessed God! if it be thy holy will, may my exit be like his!

As to Mr. Whitefield's telling stories in the pulpit, some perhaps may find fault; but beside, that he had an uncommon fund of passages, proper enough to be thus told, and a peculiar talent of telling them; it was certainly, a mean of drawing multitudes to hear him, who would not have attended to the truths of the Gospel, delivered in the ordinary manner.

His concern for his countrymen, his fellow-citi|zens, and his own relations, made him forget all bodi|ly weakness, (to which about this time he was fre|quently subject) and readily to comply with invi|tations given to preach at Painswick, Chaltenham, Evesham, Badsey, Strou••, Chafford, places abound|ing with inhabitants, and where there is ground to hope, many received much spiritual benefit. To wander thus about from place to place; to stand in bowling-greens, at market-crosses, and in highways, especially in his own country, where had he confer|red with flesh and blood, he might have lived at ease; to be blamed by friends; and have every evil thing spoken against him by his enemies; was (especially when his body was weak, and his spirits, low) very trying; but still he was inwardly supported.

April 21. He again went to Oxford, and after staying a few days with the Methodists there, came

to London, where he attempted to preach at Islington church, the incumbent, Mr. Stonehouse, being a friend to the Methodists; but in the midst of the prayers, the church-warden came and demanded his licence, or otherwise he forbad his preaching in that pulpit. He might perhaps have insisted on his right to preach, yet for peace sake he declined; and after the communion service was over, he preached in the church-yard.

Opportunities of preaching in a more regular way being now denied him, and his preaching in the fields being attended with a remarkable blessing, he judged it his duty to go on in this practice, and ventured the following Sunday into Moorfields. Pub|lic notice having been given, and the thing being new and singular, upon coming out of the coach, he found an incredible number of people assembled. Many had told him, that he should never come again out of that place alive. He went in, however, between two of his friends, who, by the pressure of the crowd, were soon parted entirely from him, and were obliged to leave him to the mercy of the rabble. But these, instead of hurting him, formed a lane for him, and car|ried him along to the middle of the Fields, (where a table had been placed, which was broken in pieces by the crowd) and afterwards back again to the wall that then parted the upper and lower Moorfields; from whence he preached without molestation, to an ex|ceeding great multitude in the lower Fields. Finding such encouragement, he went that same evening to Kennington-Common, a large open place, near three miles distant from London, where he preached to a vast multitude, who were all attention, and behaved with as much regularity and quietness, as if they had been in a church * 1.23.

CHAP. V. From his preaching in MOORFIELDS, &c. to his lay|ing the Foundation of the Orphan-House in GEOR|GIA, 1740.

FOR several months after this, Moorfields, Ken|nington-Common, and Blackheath, were the chief scenes of action. At a moderate computation, the auditories often consisted of above twenty thou|sand. It is said, their singing could be heard two miles off, and his voice near a mile. Sometimes there were upwards of a hundred coaches, besides waggons, scaffolds, and other contrivances, which particular persons let out for the convenience of the audience. Having no other method to take, he was obliged to collect for the Orphan-house in the fields, or not at all, which was humbling to him and his friends, who assisted him in that work. But the readiness with which the people gave, and the prayers which they put up when throwing in their mites, were very en|couraging * 1.24. In the mean while, Mr. John Wesley was labouring with great zeal at Bristol, his brother Mr. Charles, in London and elsewhere, Mr. Ingham had been preaching in many churches of Yorkshire, Mr. Kinchin in Oxford, and Mr. Rogers in Bed|fordshire. Thus the seed sown was gradually increas|ed, and the embargo which was now laid on the shipping, gave him leisure for more journeys through various parts of England; and God was pleased to ••••wn his labours with amazing success.

Some demur happening in Bristol, he went there a few days; put Mr. John Wesley (who had now

made a progress in building the Kingswood school, and also had begun a room at Bristol) in full power; and took him along with him, and introduced him as a field preacher, at Gloucester and other places. Eve|ry where the word seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the hearts of the hearers. Singing and praying were heard in Kingswood, instead of cursing and swearing; and in many other places the fruits of righteousness evidently appeared.

Many false reports were now spread abroad con|cerning him. Not a journey he could make, but he was either killed or wounded, or died suddenly. One groundless fiction was continually invented after ano|ther. And the Bishop of London laid hold of this occasion for publishing a charge to his clergy, to avoid the extremes of enthusiasm and lukewarmness. But amidst these discouragements, he was not left without the countenance and friendship of several persons of influence.

The embargo being taken off, and upwards of a thousand pounds collected for the Orphan-house, he sailed the second time for America, August 14, 1739, with a family consisting of eight men, one boy, and two children, besides his friend Mr. Seward.

After a passage of nine weeks * 1.25, he arrived at Phi|ladelphia in the beginning of November, and was im|mediately invited to preach in the churches, to which people of all denominations thronged, as in England. From thence he was invited to New-York, by Mr. Noble, the only person with whom he had any ac|quaintance in that part of America. Upon his arri|val,

they waited on the Commissary; but he refused him the use of his church. Mr. Whitefield, there|fore, preached in the fields, and on the evening of the same day, to a very thronged and attentive audience in the Rev. Mr. Pemberton's meeting-house; and con|tinued to do so twice or thrice a day for above a week; and by all that could be judged, with very great success.

On his way to and from Philadelphia, he also preached at Elizabeth-Town, Maidenhead, Abingdon, Neshamini, Burlington, and New-Brunswick, in the New-Jerseys, to some thousands gathered from vari|ous parts, among whom there had been a considerable awakening, by the instrumentality of one Mr. Free|linghausen, a Dutch Minister, and the Messrs. Ten|nents, Blair and Rowland. He had also the pleasure of meeting with old Mr. Tennent, as well as his sons, and with Mr. Dickinson.

Mr. Tennent, and his brethren in presbytery, intend breeding up gracious youths for our Lord's vineyard. The place where|in the young men study now, is a log-house, about twenty feet long, and near as many broad. From this despised place, seven or eight worthy Mi|nisters of Jesus have lately been sent forth, and a foundation is now laying for the instruction of ma|ny others. The work, I am persuaded, is of God, and therefore will not come to nought* 1.26.

The event has verified his judgment about this in|stitution. It is now a large College at Princeton in New-Jerseys; and has already had many worthy Pre|sidents, (some of whose names are well known in the learned world) such as Mr. Dickinson, Mr. Burr, Mr. Jonathan Edwards, Mr. Samuel Davies, Dr. Finley, and at present Dr. Witherspoon, by whose abilities, care, and activity, it is, under Providence, in a very flourishing condition.

And there has been lately, (summer 1770) a re|markable revival of religion among the students, both in the college and grammar school.

It was no less pleasing than strange to him, to see such gatherings in a foreign land; Ministers and peo|ple shedding tears; sinners struck with awe; and se|rious persons, who had been much run down and de|spised, filled with joy. Mean time, the Orphan-house affairs went on well. The things brought from Eng|land, were sold for their benefit. A sloop was pur|chased, of which Captain Gladman was master; and a young man, who had lately received serious impres|sions under Mr. Whitefield's preaching, willingly offered himself as mate. Many little presents were made to his family for sea stores, and the intended house. And about the end of November, he took his leave of his family, and ordered them to proceed in their voyage to Savannah, while himself, with Mr. Seward and two more, determined to go thither by land.

Numbers followed, some twenty, some sixty miles out from Philadelphia. He preached at Chester, Wilmington, Newcastle, (where he was met on the way by Mr. Ross, Minister of the place) Christian-Bridge, and Whitely-Creek, where Mr. William Tennent (whose meeting-house is in the neighbour|hood) had erected a tent for him. Here he observed new scenes of field-preaching, or rather preaching in the woods, opened to him. At Whitely-Creek, perhaps the congregation did not consist of less than ten thousand. Earnest invitations were given him to come and preach elsewhere; which he had great en|couragement to do, from the visible success of his la|bours; but he hasted to be with his family at Savan|nah.

In his way thither, he also preached in Maryland, at North-East and Joppa, and at Annapolis, the ca|pital, where he was received with much civility by the Governor; and at Upper-Marlborough.

In Virginia also, he preached at Williamsburgh, where he was courteously received by the Governor,

and by Mr. Blair the Commissary, whom he speaks of with great regard.

When he came to North-Carolina, he thought it seemed to be the greatest waste, and the most uncul|tivated of spots, both in a temporal and spiritual sense. Yet here, in a place called Newburn-Town, his preaching was attended with an uncommon in|fluence. And it was not without effect at Newton on Cape-Fear River, where were many from Scot|land amongst the congregation, who had lately come over to settle in North-Carolina.

Immediately on coming into South-Carolina pro|vince, (he says) a visible change was observable in the manners of the people. And when he came to Charlestown, (which was on Saturday, January 3, 1740) he could scarce believe but he was amongst Londonners, both in respect of gaiety of dress, and politeness of manners.

Here he soon perceived, that by field-preaching he had lost his old friend the Commissary, who once promised to defend him with life and fortune. How|ever, at the request of the Independent Minister, (who continued his friend to his dying day) he preached in his meeting-house. At the first sermon, all was gay and trifling, no impression seemingly made at all. But next morning in the French church, the scene was quite altered. A visible, and almost uni|versal concern appeared. Many of the inhabitants earnestly desired him to give them one sermon more; for which purpose he was prevailed upon to put off his journey till the next day; and there was reason to think his stay was not in vain.

Next morning, he and his companions set out in an open canoe for Savannah; and in their way, for the first time, lay in the woods, upon the ground, near a large fire, which keeps off the wild beasts; upon which he makes this reflection,

An emblem,

I thought, of the divine love and presence keeping off evils and corruptions from the soul * 1.27.

On his arrival at Savannah, January 11, he was very happy to meet his family, who had got there three weeks before him; and to find by letters from England, New-York, &c. that the work of God pro|spered. But it was a melancholy thing to see the colony of Georgia reduced even to a much lower ebb than when he left it, and almost deserted by all but such as could not well go away. Employing these, therefore, he thought would be of singular service, and the money expended, might be also a means of keeping them in the colony.

Before his arrival, Mr. Habersham had pitched upon a plot of ground for the Orphan-house, of 500 acres, about ten miles from Savannah, and had already begun to clear and stock it. The orphans, in the mean time, were accommodated in a hired house. On this, many years after, he makes the following reflections:

Had I proceeded according to the rules of prudence, I should have first cleared the land, built the house, and then taken in the orphans; but I found their condition so pitiable, and the inhabitants so poor, that I immediately opened an infirmary, hired a large house at a great rent, and took in at different times, twenty-four orphans. To all this I was encouraged, by the example of Professor Franck. But I forgot to re|collect, that Professor Franck built in Glaucha, in a populous country, and that I was building in the very tail of the world, where I could not expect the least supply, and which the badness of its con|stitution, which every day I expected would be al|tered, rendered by far the most expensive part of all his Majesty's dominions. But had I received more and ventured less, I should have suffered less, and others more * 1.28.

The first collection he made in America, was at the Rev. Mr. Smith's meeting-house in Charlestown, whither he went about the middle of March, to see his brother, the Captain of a ship from England. He was desired by some of the inhabitants, to speak in behalf of the poor orphans; and the collection amounted to seventy pounds sterling. This was no small encouragement to him at that time, especially as he had reason to think it came from those who had received spiritual benefit by his ministrations.

Having returned to Savannah, he went to the spot of ground, where he intended the Orphan-house should be built, and upon the 25th day of March, 1740, laid the first brick of the great house, which he called Bethesda, i. e. a house of mercy. Long af|ter this he writes,

Blessed be God, I have not been disappointed in the hope, that it would be a house and place of mercy to many, both in respect to bo|dy and soul * 1.29.

By this time, near forty children were taken in, to be provided with food and raiment; and counting the workmen and all, he had near a hundred to be daily fed. He had very little money in bank; and yet he was not discouraged, being per|suaded, that the best thing he could do at present for the infant colony, was to carry on the work.

CHAP. VI. From his laying the Foundation of his Orphan-house in GEORGIA, to his Arrival in ENGLAND, 1741.

MR. Whitefield again, therefore, set off in a sloop for Newcastle in Pennsylvania, where he arrived about the middle of April. In this short pas|sage of ten days, he was much discouraged both by weakness of body, and low spirits. But, as he ob|served afterwards, Providence was infinitely better to him than his fears, and exceeded his most sanguine expectations. For during the space of two months, he was strengthened to preach, generally twice, and fre|quently, besides travelling, thrice a day. At Phila|delphia, the churches were no longer allowed him; but he preached in the fields to congregations that consisted sometimes of near ten thousand, and with great apparent success. Large collections were made for the Orphan-house; once, not less than an hun|dred and ten pounds sterling. S••••ieties for praying and singing were set on foot; and in every part of the town, many were concerned about their salvation. Some were wrought upon in a more instantaneous, others in a more progressive, some in a more silent, others in a more violent manner * 1.30.

At New-York, New-Brunswick, Statten-Island, Baskenridge, Whitely-Creek, Frogs-Manor, Reedy-Island, there was great concern upon the minds both of the preacher and hearers.

Sometimes he was almost dead with heat and fa|tigue. Thrice a day he was lifted up upon his horse, unable to mount otherwise; then rode and preached, and came in and laid himself along upon two or three chairs. He did not doubt but such a course would soon take him to his desired rest. Yet he had many delightful hours with Messrs, Tennents, Blair, &c.

Night, says he, was as it were turned into day, when we rode singing through the woods. I could not help recommending these men, where|ever I went, in the strongest manner, beeause I saw they gloried in the cross of Christ* 1.31.

In a journal written by Mr. William Seward, (Mr. Whitefield's companion in travel) we have the follow|ing particulars belonging to this period.

April 9, 1740. Mr. Whitefield proposed my go|ing to England upon several important affairs, par|ticularly to bring over Mr. Hutchins to take care of the Orphan-house in his absence—To acquaint the Trustees of Georgia with the state of the colony, and the means, under God, for the better establishment thereof, it being now upheld al|most wholly by the soldiery and Orphan-house, most of the people who are unconcerned in either, being gone or going—The proper means are principally three, 1. An allowance of negroes. 2. A free title to the lands. 3. An independent magistracy, viz. such as are able and willing to serve without fee or reward. My business with the Trustees will be farther, to bring over the money, lodged in their hands for building the church at Savannah. I am, moreover, to collect subscriptions for a Negroe school in Pennsylvania, where our brother Whitefield proposes to take up land, in order to settle a town for the reception of such English friends, whose hearts God shall in|cline to come and settle there.

April 13. Mr. Tennent informed us of the great success which had attended our brother Whitefield's preaching, when here last. For some time, a general silence was fixed by the Lord on people's minds, and many began seriously to think on what foundation they stood—A general out|ward reformation has been visible. Many ministers have been quickened in their zeal to preach the word in season and out of season. Congregations are increased, and some few, it is hoped, will be brought, through their convictions, into a sound and saving conversion.

April 14. Mr. Jones, the Baptist minister, told us of two other ministers, Mr. Treat and Mr. Morgan, who were so affected with our brother Whitefield's spirit, that the latter had gone forth, preaching the glad tidings of salvation, towards the sea-coast in the Jerseys, and many other places which lay in darkness and the shadow of death. The former told his congregation, that he had been hitherto deceiving himself and them; and that he could not preach to them at present, but desired they would join in prayer with him.

April 15. We were informed, that an Indian trader was so affected with brother Whitefield's doctrine, that he is gone to teach the Indians, with whom he used to trade.

April 18. This day was published our brother Whitefield's Letter to the Inhabitants of Maryland, Virginia, North and South Carolina, about their abuse of the poor negroes * 1.32.

Heard of a drinking club that had a negroe boy attending them, who used to mimic people for their diversion. The Gentlemen bid him mimic our brother Whitefield, which he was very unwilling to do; but they insisting upon it, he stood up and said, 'I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not, un|less

you repent you will all be damned.' This un|expected speech broke up the club, which has not met since.

—Notice was given of a new lecture at Ger|man-Town every Thursday, by four Ministers.

April 22. Agreed with Mr. Allen for five thou|sand acres of land on the forks of Delaware, at 2200 l. sterling, the conveyance to be made to Mr. Whitefield, and after that assigned to me, as secu|rity for my advancing the money. Mr. White|field proposes to give orders for building the ne|groe school on the purchased land, before he leaves the province.

April 24. Came to Christopher Wigner's plan|tation in Skippack, where many Dutch people are settled, and where the famous Mr. Spalemburg re|sided lately. It was surprizing to see such a mul|titude of people gathered together in such a wil|derness country, thirty miles distant from Philadel|phia. —Our brother was exceedingly carried out in his sermon, to press poor sinners to come to Christ by faith, and claim all their privileges, viz. Not only righteousness and peace, but joy in the Holy Ghost: and after he had done, our dear friend Pe|ter Boehler preached in Dutch, to those who could not understand our brother in English.

Before our brother left Philadelphia, he was de|sired to visit one who was under a deep sense of sin from hearing him preach. And in praying with this person, he was so carried beyond himself, that the whole company (which were about twenty) seemed to be filled with the Holy Ghost, and mag|nified the God of heaven.

April 25. Rose at three o'clock; and though our brother Whitefield was very weak in body, yet the Lord enabled him to ride near fifty miles, and to preach to about five thousand people at Amwell, with the same power as usual.—Mr. Gilbert Ten|nent,

Mr. Rowland, Mr. Wales, and Mr. Campbell, four godly Ministers, met us here.

April 26. Came to New-Brunswick.—Met Mr. Noble from New-York, a zealous promoter of our Lord's kingdom. He said their society at New-York was increased from seventy, to one hundred and seventy, and was daily increasing; and that Messrs. Gilbert and William Tennents, Mr. Row|land, and several others, were hard labourers in our Lord's vineyard.

April 28. Had a most affectionate parting with our dear brother Whitefield, and our other bre|thren* 1.33.

With great joy he reached Savannah on the 5th of June, bringing his orphans, in money and provisions, upwards of five hundred pounds sterling. Next day, when they came to public worship, young and old were all dissolved in tears. Some, who came to visit them, were also deeply impressed; particularly Mr. Hugh Bryan and his family, and some † 1.34 of his rela|tions.

Several from Beauford in South-Carolina, then received their first impressions. All these things gave him great encouragement. And though his fa|mily was now great, (near a hundred and fifty, in|cluding workmen) and the plan laid down would have required some thousands to support it; and although very often he had not twenty pounds in cash, he was still kept from being disheartened; and his friends, believing the work to be of God, continued cheerfully to assist him.

Though he was very weak in body, yet the cry from various quarters for more preaching, and the ne|cessity of supplying so large a family, made him go again to Charlestown, where, as well as at Dorchester, Ashley-Ferry, Ponpon, and John's-Island, he preach|ed to very attentive and affected auditories. Char|lestown was the place of the greatest success, and of the greatest opposition. The Commissary poured out his anathemas, refused to give him the sacrament, and published some letters against him. But all in vain. He preached twice almost every day, to great crowds, in the independent and Baptist meeting-houses; besides ex|pounding in the evening in merchants houses. Thus he went on successfully (though often ready to die with the excessive heat) till the end of August: when having received most pressing invitations from the Rev. Dr. Colman, and Mr. Cooper, ministers in Boston; and being desirous of seeing the descendants of the good old Puritans, and their seats of learn|ing; and having encouragement that something might be done for the Orphan-house, he embark|ed in the Orphan-house sloop for New-England, in company with several Charlestown friends; and ar|rived at Rhode-sland, September 14.

Here several Gentlemen soon came to visit him, among whom was the Rev. Mr. Clap, an aged dis|senting minister, in whom he thought he saw what manner of men the old Puritans were who first set|tled

New-England, and was much delighted with his conversation. They went together to the incum|bent's house, to ask the use of the church, which was granted; and in it he preached three days, twice a day, to deeply affected auditories.

This he thought was a happy entrance into New-England. But he was still more agreeably surprised, when, before he got to Boston, he was met several miles from the city, by the governor's son, and some of the ministers, and principal inhabitants, who con|ducted him to Mr. St—nf—rd's (brother-in-law to Dr. Colman) who, with his colleague Mr. Cooper, and many others, came and joined in prayer.

Jonathan Belcher, Esq was then Governor of the Massachusett's colony, and Josiah Willard, Secretary. Both these Gentlemen were his sincere friends, so were the Ministers, Messrs. Web, Foxcraft, Prince, Dr. Sewald, Gee, &c. To avoid, however, giving any just offence, he went to the English church to morning prayers; but finding, by conversation with the Commissary, and some other clergy, that there was no access there, he began preaching in the after|noon, at Dr. Colman's meeting-house, and so went round (except when he preached on the common) to the other meeting-houses, especially the largest of them, for some time together.

Governor Belcher, generally attended; Secretary Willard, and several of the Council, set the same example; and all seemed to vie who should show the greatest respect. Congregations were exceeding large, both within and without; and were much affected. Old Mr. Walter, who succeeded Mr. Elliot, common|ly called the apostle of the Indians, at Roxbury, said it was Puritanism revived; and Dr. Colman said, when preaching at his meeting-house the Sunday fol|lowing, that

it was the happiest day he ever saw in his life.

He preached also at Cambridge, Marblehead, Ips|wich, Newbury, Hampton, York, Portsmouth, Salem, and Moulden, to large congregations. The Gentle|men of the greatest repute had their houses open, in every place; collections were readily made for the orphans: and, in about a week, having preached six|teen times, and rode a hundred and seventy miles, he returned to Boston, October 6.

Here the congregations were still increased. At his farewell sermon, it was supposed there were near twen|ty thousand people. He received a great number of letters, and could have spent whole days in conver|sing with those that came to him under soul concern. Ministers and students attended. Little children were impressed. The contributions for the orphans were very considerable, amounting, in town and coun|try, to near five hundred pounds sterling.

He set out next for Northampton: having read in England, an account of a remarkable work of con|version there, published by their Pastor the Rev. Mr. Jonathan Edwards; and having a great desire to see him, and to hear the account from his own mouth.

At Concord, Sudbury, Marlborough, Worchester, Leicester, Hadley, places all lying in the way, pul|pits and houses were every where opened, and a con|tinued influence attended his preaching. At Nor|thampton, when he came to remind them of what God had formerly done for them, it was like putting fire to tinder. Both Minister and people were much moved; as were the children of the family, at an ex|hortation which their father desired Mr. Whitefield to give them.

After leaving Northampton, he preached in West|field, Springfield, Suffield Windsor, Hertford, Wea|thersfield, Middleton, and Wallingford, to large and affected congregations. And October 23, reached Newhaven, where he was affectionately received by

Mr. Pierpont, brother-in-law to Mr. Edwards, and had the pleasure of seeing his friend Mr. Noble of New-York, who brought him letters from Georgia. Here also he was much refreshed with the conver|sation of several Gospel Ministers. It being assembly time, and the Governor and Burgesses then sitting he stayed till Lord's-day, and had the pleasure to see numbers daily impressed, The good old Governor was particularly much affected; and at a private visit which Mr. Whitefield paid him, said,

Thanks be to God, for such refreshings in our way to hea|ven.

On Monday morning he set forward, and preach|ed with usual success at Milford, Stratford, Fairfield, Newark, and Stanford, where he was visited by some Ministers under deep concern.

This was on the borders of New-York province, into which he now again entered, and preached at Rye and Kingsbridge, on his way to the city of New-York, where he arrived October 30. Here for three days successively, and afterwards at Statten-Island, Newark, Baskenridge, his preaching appear|ed to be attended, with more success than ever. At Trenton he had a long conference with some Mi|nisters about Mr. Gilbert Tenent's complying with an invitation to go and preach in New-England. After prayer, and considering the arguments both for and against this proposal, they thought it best he should go; which, however diffident of himself, he was persuaded to do. And his ministrations were at|tended with an extraordinary blessing to multitudes, as is particularly narrated elsewhere * 1.35.

About this time Mr. Whitefield wrote his Letter to some church-members of the Presbyterian persua|sion,

in answer to certain scruples and queries which they had proposed* 1.36.

What sort of reception he had in New-England, will farther appear from the following letters of some eminent Ministers of Boston, and adjacent towns, published by the Rev. Mr. Josiah Smith, of Charles|town, in the South-Carolina Gazette.

October 1, 1740.

Rev. and dear Sir,

Your kind letter by Mr. Whitefield, and your other, are both now before me. You raised our expectations of him very much, as did his Journals more, and Mr. P. of New-York, concurred with them; but we own now, that we have seen and heard him, that our expectations are all answered and exceeded, not only in his zealous, and fervent, abounding labours, but in the command of the hearts, and affections of his hearers.—He has been received here as an angel of God, and fervant of Jesus Christ.—I hope this visit to us, will be of very great use and benefit to Ministers and peo|ple. He has found his heart and mouth much opened to speak freely and boldly to us, and he finds it received with joy.

The same Gentleman, November 29, 1740, writes thus:—

Mr. White|field left us seven weeks ago; the last week we heard of him at Philadelphia. I heard that much of the presence of God is with him. He has left a blessing behind him, we hope with us. Our people, high and low, old and young, are very swift to hear. The excellent meekness of Mr. Whitefield's answer to the querists, will honour him to you.

Another, in a Letter, October 22, 1740. expresses himself thus:

Though it is always a singular

pleasure to me to hear from you, yet your two let|ters by Mr. Whitefield, had a new circumstance of pleasure from the dear hand that presented them. I perceive you was impatient to know what sort of entering in he had among us. We (Ministers, rulers, and people) generally received him as an angel of God. When he preached his farewell sermon in our common, there were twen|ty-three thousand, at a moderate computation. We are abundantly convinced, that you spoke the words of truth and soberness in your sermon relat|ing to him, such a power and presence of God with a preacher, and in religious assemblies, I never saw before; but I would not limit the Holy One of Israel. The prejudices of many are quite con|quered, and expectations of others vastly outdone, as they freely own. A considerable number are awakened, and many christians seem to be greatly quickened. He has preached twice at Cambridge; he has one warm friend there, Mr. —, the tutor, who has followed him to Northampton, and will, for what I know, to Georgia. But Mr. White|field has not a warmer friend any where, than the first man among us. Our Governor has shewn him the highest respect, carried him in his coach from place to place, and could not help following him fifty miles out of town. I hope the religion of the country will fare the better for the impressions left on him.

—The same Gentleman writes, Decem|ber 2, 1740,

The man greatly beloved, I suppose, may be with you before now. That his visit here will be esteemed a distinguishing mercy of hea|ven by many, I am well satisfied. Every day gives me fresh proofs of Christ's speaking in him. A small set of Gentlemen amongst us, when they saw the affections of the people so moved under his preaching, would attribute it only to the force of sound and gestures. But the impressions on

many are so lasting, and have been so transforming as to carry plain signatures of a divine hand going along with him.—Another Gentleman writes, Oc|tober 21, 1740, and thanks me for recommending to him, so worthy a person as the Rev. Mr. White|field, who has preached Christ, and the great truths of the Gospel among them, with remarkable fer|vour of spirit, and to a general acceptance, and hopes that there are many awakened by his mi|nistry. —Another of the same date writes, That he had conceived very highly of him by some clauses in my private letters, and the sermon I preached by way of apology, &c. but confesses he had not gone high enough in his opinion of him, and that his expectations are more than an|swered in him.—Another, November 21, 1740, blesses God that he was sent thither; that he had so many opportunities of seeing him, and sitting under his ministry. That he appeared to him a wonderful man indeed; that his preaching was ac|companied with a divine power, and energy, be|yond any man's he had ever heard before: and the effects of his ministry were very marvellous among them.—I shall conclude with the following passage of another Gentleman, in a letter of No|vember 1, 1740. I received yours by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, with whom I coveted a great deal more private conversation than I had opportunity for, by reason of the throngs of people almost perpe|tually with him. But he appears to be full of the love of God, and fired with an extraordinary zeal for the cause of Christ, and applies himself with the most indefatigable diligence, that ever was seen among us, for the promoting the good of souls. His head, his heart, his hands seem to be full of his Master's business. His discourses, espe|cially when he goes into the expository way, are very entertaining. Every eye is fixed upon him,

and every ear chained to his lips. Most are very much affected; many are awakened and con|vinced; and a general seriousness excited. His address more especially to the passions, is wonder|ful, and beyond what I have ever seen. I think I can truly say, that his preaching has quickened me, and I believe it has many others besides, as well as the people. Several of my flock, especial|ly the younger sort, have been brought under con|victions by his preaching; and there is this re|markable amongst them of the good effect of his preaching, that the word now preached by us, seems more precious to them, and comes with more power upon them. My prayer for him is, that his precious life may be lengthened out, and that he may be an instrument of reviving dying religion in all places whithersoever he comes, who seems to be wonderfully fitted for, as well as spirit|ed to it.

Saturday November 8, Mr. Whitefield came back to Philadelphia, and next day preached to several thousands in a house built for that purpose, since his last departure. Here he both heard of, and saw many, who were the fruits of former ministrations; and continued among them till November 17, preach|ing twice a day. Afterwards he preached in Glou|cester, Greenwich, Piles-Grove, Cohensie, Salem, Newcastle, Whitely-Creek, Fog's Manor, Notting|ham; in many or most of which places, the con|gregations were numerous and deeply affected.

November 22, he got to Bohemia in Maryland, and from thence he went to Reedy-Island. At both places his preaching was attended with great influence. And at last (their sloop being detained by contrary winds near a week) he preached frequent|ly. All the Captains and crews of the ships that were wind-bound constantly attended, and great numbers crowded out of the country, some as far as from Phi|ladelphia:

and as great concern as ever came upon their minds.

December 1, he set sail from Reedy-Island for Charlestown in South-Carolina, and here he makes the following remark:

It is now the seventy-fifth day, since I arrived at Rhode-Island. My body was then weak, but the Lord has much renewed its strength. I have been enabled to preach, I think an hundred and seventy-five times in public, be|sides exhorting frequently in private. I have travelled upwards of eight hundred miles, and got|ten upwards of seven hundred pounds sterling in goods, provisions and money, for the Georgia orphans. Never did I perform my journeys with so little fatigue, or see such continuance of the di|vine presence in the congregations to whom I have preached. Praise the Lord, O my soul* 2.1.

After a pleasant passage of eight or nine days, and preaching again at Charlestown and Savannah, he ar|rived on the 14th of December at the Orphan-house, where he found his family comfortably settled. At Rhode-Island he had providentially met with one Mr. Jonathan Barber, whose heart was very much knit to him, and who was willing to help him at the Orphan-house. Him, therefore, he left superin|tendent for the spiritual, and Mr. Habersham for the temporal affairs; and having spent a very comfortable Christmas with his orphan family, he set off again for † 2.2 Charlestown, where he arrived January 3, 1741,

and preached twice every day as usual, to most affec|tionate auditories, till the sixteenth of January, when he went on board for England. He arrived the 11th of March at Falmouth, rode post to Lon|don, and preached at Kennington Common the Sun|day following.

CHAP. VII. From his Arrival in ENGLAND, in the Year 1741, to his leaving SCOTLAND, the same Year.

THE new and unexpected situation in which he now found himself, will be best described in his own words:

But what a trying scene appear|ed here! In my zeal, during my journey through America, I had written two well-meant, though injudicious letters, against England's two great fa|vourites, The Whole Duty of Man, and Archbishop Tillotson, who, I said, knew no more of religion than Mahomet. The Moravians had made in|roads upon the societies. Mr. John Wesley, some way or other, had been prevailed on to preach and print in favour of perfection, and universal redemption; and very strongly against election, a doctrine, which I thought, and do now believe was taught me of God, therefore could not possible recede from. Thinking it my duty so to do, I had written an answer at the Orphan-house, which though revised, and much approved of by some good and judicious divines, I think had some too strong expressions about absolute reprobation, which the Apostle leaves rather to be inferred, than exprest. The world was angry at me for the former, and numbers of my own spiritual children for the latter. One that got some hundreds of pounds by my sermons, being led away by the Moravians, refused to print for me any more. And others wrote to me, that God would destroy me in a fortnight; and that my fall was as great as

Peter's. Instead of having thousands to attend me, scarce one of my spiritual children came to see me from morning to night. Once at Ken|nington-Common, I had not above a hundred to hear me. At the same time, I was much embar|rassed in my outward circumstances. A thousand pounds I owed for the Orphan-house. Two hun|dred and fifty pounds bills, drawn upon Mr. Seward, now dead, were returned upon me. I was also threatened to be arrested for two hun|dred pounds more. My travelling expences also to be defrayed. A family of a hundred to be daily maintained, four thousand miles off, in the dearest place of the King's dominions. Ten thou|sand times would I rather have died, than part with my old friends. It would have melted any heart to have heard Mr. Charles Wesley and me weeping, after prayer, that, if possible, the breach might be prevented. Once I preached in the Foundery, (a place which Mr. John Wesley had procured in my absence) on Gal. iii. but no more. All my work was to begin again. One day, I was exceedingly refreshed in reading Beza's life of Calvin, wherein were these words, 'Calvin is turned out of Geneva, but behold a new church arises.' A Gentlewoman lent me three hundred pounds to pay the present Orphan-house demand: and a serious person (whom I never saw or heard of) giving me one guinea; I had such confidence, that I ran down with it to a friend, and expressed my hope, that God who sent this person with the guinea, would make it up fifteen hundred: which was the sum I thought would be wanted.

Never had I preached in Moorfields on a week day. But in the strength of God, I began on Good-Friday, and continued twice a day, walking back|ward and forward from Leadenhall, for some time preaching under one of the trees, and had the

mortification of seeing numbers of my spiritual children, who but a twelvemonth ago could have plucked out their eyes for me, running by me whilst preaching, disdaining so much as to look at me, and some of them putting their fingers in their ears, that they might not hear one word I said.

A like scene opened at Bristol, where I was de|nied preaching in the house I had founded: Busy bodies, on both sides, blew up the coals. A breach ensued. But as both sides differed in judg|ment, and not in affection, and aimed at the glory of our common Lord; though we hearkened too much to tale-bearers on both sides, we were kept from anathematizing each other, and went on in our usual way; being agreed in one point, endea|vouring to convert souls to their ever blessed Me|diator.

About this time he was ordered to attend in the Parliament House, to give information concerning the state of the colony in Georgia.

April 10, 1741. I have been at the Parliament House. The Georgia affair was adjourned. It was some|what of a trial to be in the house. I then re|membered what the Apostle said, 'We are be|come a spectacle to men' My appeal will come to nothing, I believe. I have waited upon the Speaker. He received me kindly* 2.3.

Again,

He treated me kindly, and assured me, that there would be no persecution in this King's reign.† 2.4

In consequence of this, one Mr. Cennick, a preacher, who could not fall in with Mr. Wesley's sentiments, and one or two more in like circumstances, having joined Mr. Whitefield, they began a new house in Kingswood, and soon established a school among them, that favoured Calvinistical principles. And here, and in several other places, they preached

to very large and serious congregations, in the same manner as he had done in America.

Thither he intended to return as soon as possible. Mean time, it being inconvenient, on account of the weather, to preach morning and evening in Moor|fields; some free-grace Dissenters, (who stood by him closely in that time of trial) got the loan of a piece of ground, and engaged with a carpenter to build a large temporary shed, to screen the auditory from cold and rain, which he called a Tabernacle, as it was only intended to be made use of for a few months, during his stay in his native country. The place fixed upon, was very near the Foundery, which he disliked, because he thought it looked like erecting altar against altar; but upon this occasion he re|marks,

All was wonderfully over-ruled for good, and for the furtherance of the Gospel. A fresh awakening immediately began. Congregations grew exceeding large, and at the people's desire, I sent (necessity reconciling me more and more to lay-preaching) for Messieurs Cennick, Harris, Seagrave, Humphries, &c. to assist * 2.5.

Fresh doors were now opened to him, and invita|tions sent to him from many places, where he had ••••ver been. At a common, near Braintree in Essex, upwards of ten thousand persons attended. At Hal|stead, Dedham, Cossleshall, Whethersfield, Colces|ter, Bury, Ipswich, the congregations were very large and much affected.

Sweet was the conver|sation I had with several Ministers of Christ. But our own clergy grew more and more shy, now they knew I was a Calvinist; though no doubt (as Mr. Bedford told me when going to the Bishop of London) our Articles are Calvinistical † 2.6.

At this time also, he was strongly solicited by reli|gious persons of different persuasions, to visit Scotland. Several letters had past between him and the Mes|sieurs

Erskines, some time before * 2.7, and he had a great desire to see them. He therefore took his pas|sage from London to Leith, where (after five days which he employed in writing many execellent letters to his Orphans, &c. See Letters CCCXI. to CCCXXXVII.) he arrived July 30, 1741. Several persons of distinction most gladly received him, and would have had him preach at Edinburgh directly; but he was determined that the Rev. Messieurs Er|skines should have the first offer; and therefore went immediately to Dumfermlin, and preached in Mr. Er|skine's Meeting-house.

Great persuasions were used to detain him at Dumfermlin, and as great to keep him from preach|ing for and visiting the Rev. Mr. Wardlaw, who had been colleague to Mr. Ralph Erskine above twen|ty years, and who, as well as the Rev. Mr. David|son, a dissenting Minister in England, that went along

with Mr. Whitefield, were looked upon as perjured, for not adhering to the Solemn League and Covenant. This was new language to him, and therefore unin|telligible. But that he might be better informed, it was proposed that the Rev. Mr. Moncrief, Mr. Ebe|nezer Erskine, and others, members of the Associate Presbytery, should convene in a few days, in order to give him farther light.

In the mean time, Mr. Ralph Erskine accompa|nied him to Edinburgh, where he preached in the Orphan-house Park, (field-preaching being no novel|ty in Scotland) to a very large and affected auditory, upon these words,

The kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

The next day he preach|ed in the West Kirk, and expressed great pleasure in hearing two Gospel sermons from the Rev. Mr. Gust|hart, and the Rev. Mr. MacVicar. And the following day, he preached in the Cannongate church, where Mr. Ralph Erskine went up with him into the pul|pit.

According to promise, he returned with him to Dumfermlin, where Mr. Ebenezer Erskine, and se|veral of the Associate Presbytery were met together. When Mr. Whitefield came, they soon proposed to proceed to business. He asked them for what pur|pose? They answered, to discourse, and set him right about Church Government, and the Solemn League and Covenant. He replied, they might save themselves that trouble, for he had no scruple about it, and that settling Church Government, and preaching about the Solemn League and Cove|nant, was not his plan. He then told them some|thing of his experience, and how he was let into his present way of acting. One of them, in particu|lar, said he was deeply affected. And Mr. Ebene|zer Erskine desired they would have patience with him, for that having been born and bred in England,

and never studied the point, he could not be sup|posed to be perfectly acquainted with it. But Mr. M. insisted, that he was therefore more inexcuseable, for England had revolted most with respect to Church Government; and that he being born and educated there, could not but be acquainted with the matter in debate. Mr. Whitefield told him, he had never yet made the Solemn League and Covenant the sub|ject of his study, being too busy about matters which he judged of greater importance. Several replied, that every pin of the Tabernacle was precious. He answered, that in every building, there were outside and inside workmen; that the latter, at present, was his province; that if they thought themselves called to the former, they might proceed in their own way, and he would proceed in his. He then asked them seriously, what they would have him to do? The answer was, that he was not desired to subscribe immediately to the Solemn League and Covenant, but to preach only for them, till he had further light. He asked, Why only for them? Mr. Ralph Erskine said, "They were the Lord's people." He then asked, Were no other the Lord's people but themselves? If not, and if others were the devil's people, they had more need to be preached to; that for his part, all places were alike to him; and that if the Pope himself would lend his pulpit, he would gladly proclaim in it the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. Something passed about taking two of their brethren with him to England, to settle Pres|bytery there; and then with two more, to go and settle Presbytery in America. But he asked, suppose a number of Independents should come, and declare, that after the greatest search, they were convinced that Independency was the right Church Govern|ment, and would disturb no body, if tolerated; should they be tolerated? They answered, No.—Soon af|ter this the company broke up. And Mr. M. preached

upon Is. xxi. 11, 12.

Watchman, what of the night? &c.

And took occasion to declaim strong|ly against the ceremonies of the Church of England, and to argue,

That one who held Communion with that Church, or with the backslidden Church of Scotland, could not be an instrument of refor|mation.

I attended; but the good man so spent himself in the former part of his sermon, in talking against prelacy, the Common Prayer-book, the surplice, the rose in the hat, and such like externals; that when he came to the latter part of his text, to invite poor sinners to Jesus Christ, his breath was so gone, that he could scarce be heard. What a pity, that the last was not first, and the first last! * 2.8

The consequence of all this, was, an open breach. Mr. Whitefield retired thoughtful and uneasy to his closet, and after preach|ing in the fields, sat down and dined with them, and then took a final leave.

Having dropt something about persons building a Babel. Mistress — said, it was a hard saying. Upon which I repli|ed, I feared it was a true one, and that they would find the Babel fall down about their ears. I was never received into their house any more. Thus was I called to make another sacrifice of my affections. But what I had met with in England, made this the more easy† 2.9.

Many waited at Edinburgh to know the issue of the conference, who were not disappointed in the event. Thither he returned, after preaching at In|nerkeithing, and the Queen's-ferry; and continued preaching always twice, often thrice, (and once se|ven times a day) for some weeks together. The

churches were open, but not being able to hold half the congregations, he generally preached twice a day in the Orphan-Hospital Park to many thousands. Persons of the best fashion, as well as of the meaner rank, attended* 2.10; at some of their houses he general|ly expounding every evening. And every day, al|most, there were new evidences of the success of his labours. Numbers of Ministers† 2.11 and students came to hear him, and aged, experienced christians told him, they could set their seal to what he preach|ed.

In this first visit to Scotland, he preached at Edin|burgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Dundee, Paisley, Perth, Stirling, Crief, Falkirk, Airth, Kinglassie, Aberdeen, Culross, Kinross, Couper of Fife; and also, at Stone|hive, Benholm, Montrose, Brechin, Forfar, Couper of Angus; and at Innerkeithing, Newbottle, Gala|shields, Maxton, and Haddington; and in the west country, at Killern, Fintry, and Balfrone. To other places to which he was invited, he did not go ‡ 2.12 at this time. But (having collected above five hundred pounds, in money and goods, for his Orphans) he left Edinburgh in the latter end of October, to go through Wales, in his way to London.

CHAP. VIII. Letters from Ministers and private Christians in SCOT|LAND, representing Mr. WHITEFIELD's Reception and Success there, in the Year 1741.

HIS reception, ministrations, and success at the principal places in Scotland, will farther ap|pear from the following Letters.

At Edinburgh, one of the Ministers of that city, thus writes to him.

April 20, 1742 * 2.13. Rev. and dear Sir, Knowing that many are careful to inform you, from time to time, what passes here, I have hitherto delayed answering your most ac|ceptable Letter, until I should tell you with the greatest certainty, what were the blessed effects of your ministrations amongst us; and can now as|sure you, that they were not more surprising than lasting. I don't know, or hear of any wrought upon by your ministry, but are holding on in the paths of truth and righteousness. They seem pos|sessed of a truly christian spirit. Jesus is precious to their souls; and like the morning light, they are advancing with increasing brightness to the perfect day. Since you left Scotland, numbers in different corners have been awakened. Many in a hopeful way. Religion in this sinful city revives and flourishes. Ordinances are more punc|tually attended on. People hear the word with gladness, and receive it in faith and love. New meetings for prayer and spiritual conference are erecting every where. Religious conversation has banished slander and callumny from several

tea-tables, and christians are not ashamed to own their dear Lord and Master. Praise is perfected out of the mouths of babes and sucklings; and some stout-hearted sinners captivated to the obe|dience of Christ.

I cannot easily express, with what pleasure I write these things; and doubtless, they will give you no less joy in reading them. Should not these droppings of the dew of heaven encourage our faith and hope of a plentiful effusion of the Spirit, which will at once change our barren wilderness into a fruitful field? Should not this hasten your re|turn, that we may take sweet counsel together, and enter into the house of God in company? You are often on our hearts. We long to see you face to face. May much of your great Mas|ter's presence ever attend, and come along with you.

Mr. George Muir, afterwards the Rev. Doctor Muir, late Minister of Paisley) thus wrote to James Aitken, school-master in Glasgow * 2.14.

Edinburgh, August 8, 1743. As you desired, I have with the assistance of Mr. Archibald Bowie, Mr. Dun, and the † 2.15 serjeant, informed myself a little, with re|spect to the number and situations of the praying societies in this place, which you will take as fol|lows: They are, as near as we can guess, between twenty-four and thirty in number, some of which will necessarily be obliged to divide, by reason of too many meeting together; and that will increase the number. Amongst them are several meetings of boys and girls, who, in general, seem not only to be growing in grace, but really increasing in knowledge. The little lambs appear to be un|willing to rest upon duties, or any thing short of

Christ; as a young Gentleman of my acquaint|ance told me, when under a temptation to think, that he was surely seeking some imaginary re|fuge, instead of the Saviour, he was made to cry out in prayer, 'Lord, I want nothing else, and will have nothing short of the very Christ of God.' There are several meetings of young women, who (although I never, as yet, visited any of them) I am informed, hold on very well. The serjeant tells me, that at one of these meetings, on the morning of the Lord's-day, he has known them all wet with floods of tears, melted down with love to Christ, and affection to one another for Christ's sake. I have myself been much ra|vished (when in a meeting in the room below, where some of these resort) to hear them sing the Lord's praises with such melodious voices. There are numbers of young men who meet for the ex|cellent purpose of glorifying God, and promoting christian knowledge; amongst some of whom I have the honour to be a member; many of them are Divines, who are useful in instructing the weaker sort of us; and that they endeavour to do with the greatest anxiety and desire. A good number of old men, substantial, standing christians, meet for their edification and instruction (the glo|ry of their God being always their chief end) and are thereby often revived, and very much refresh|ed. The generality of these sorts, above-mention|ed, do walk very circumspectly, and really make it appear to the world, that they have been with Jesus: which is very much evidenced in their chearfully bearing reproaches for Christ's sake. And upon the whole, we hope there is such a flame kindled, as shall never be extinguished. And with respect to two particular societies, whereof Mr. Bowie is a member, he gave me

the inclosed * 2.16 in writing; which you will pe|ruse and return. This is not all; for several country people are beginning to assemble together in little meetings, to worship their God: parti|cularly, the serjeant informs me of one, about two miles from this place, where several plow|men, and other illiterate persons, meet for these most noble ends and purposes; and are going most sweetly on, much increased in grace and know|ledge,

and some are daily added to their number. I am informed from the east country, (where there have been no societies since the secession) that about Old Cambus, six miles from Dunbar, many are now meeting together for social prayer, and mutual conversation about matters of religion, wherein the Lord is with them of a truth. And in that place, there is more eager thirsting for the word, than usual, and the Ministers are learning to speak with new tongues. And one of my ac|quaintance, who was in this place last winter, has happily been the Lord's instrument in begin|ning these societies. How beautiful and refresh|ing is it, my dear friend, to hear of so many fol|lowing after the despised Jesus? Should we not take it as a token for good, that young ones, in|stead of spending their spare hours in idle, vain, and unprofitable play, do now assemble, and join in calling upon the Lord. Is it not a good sign to hear many poor foolish virgins, (instead of be|ing employed in the vanities of the generality of their sex) meeting together for prayer; and many prodigal youths, instead of revelling, and drunkenness, chambering, and wontonness, now breathing after the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him crucified? O that the Lord would more and more exert his almighty power amongst us. There are several other societies for prayer, near about this city, prospering very well.

The Rev. Mr. Mac Culloch of Cambuslang, thus writes to Mr. Whitefield, a few months after his first visit to Glasgow* 2.17;

As it is matter of great joy and thankfulness to God, who sent you here, and gave you so much countenance, and so re|markably crowned your labours when here at Glasgow with success; so I doubt not, but the following account, of the many seals to your mi|nistry in and about that city, will be very re|joicing

to your heart, as our glorious Redeemer's kingdom is so much advanced, and the everlasting happiness of immortal souls promoted.

I am well informed by some Ministers, and other judicious and experienced christians, that there are to the number of fifty persons already got notice of, in and about Glasgow, that by all that can be judged by persons of the best discerning in spiritual things, are savingly converted, by the blessing and power of God, accompanying your ten sermons in that place; besides several others under convictions, not reckoned in this number, whose state remains, as yet, a little doubtful. And besides, several christians of considerable stand|ing, who were much strengthened, revived, and comforted, by means of hearing your sermons; being made to rejoice in hope of the glory of God, having obtained the full assurance of faith.

Among those lately converted, here are several young people who were formerly openly wicked and flagitious, or at best but very negligent as to spiritual concerns, but are now in the way of sal|vation. Some young converts are yet under doubts and fears; but a considerable number of them have attained to joy and peace in believ|ing.

Several lately wrought upon in a gracious way, seem to outstrip christians of considerable stand|ing, in spiritual mindedness, and many other good qualifications: and particularly, in their zeal for the conversion of others, and love to the ordinances, without a spirit of bigotry, or party zeal.

These converts by your ministry are discover|ed from time to time; a good many are but late|ly got notice of, that were not known before; which was pattly occasioned by their convictions not being so strong and pungent at the first, as

they proved afterwards, partly by the discourag|ment they met with in the families where they resided, and partly by the reserved tempers of the persons themselves, and their bashfulness, because of their former negligences and open enormities. These things give ground to hope, there may be more discovered afterwards, that are not yet known.

••esides these awakened, by the power of God accompanying your sermons, there are others awakened since, by means of the great visible change discovered in their former intimate ac|quaintance, that were then converted, when they saw the change so remarkable, and the effects so abiding.

Young converts are exceeding active to pro|mote the conversion of others, especially their re|lations and near concerns, by their exhortations, and letters to distant friends in the country; and there are some instances of the good effects of these endeavours.

They have all a great love to one another, and all good christians, and a great sympathy, with such of their number, as are under doubts and fears. Such of them as have not received comfort, by their earnest and deep concern, and close attendance on the means of grace, are hereby instrumental to excite christians of elder standing, to more diligence in religion.

These, dear brother, are a few hints of some of the most remarkable things, as to the suc|cess of your labours at Glasgow, by the di|vine blessing. May a rich and powerful blessing, give a plentiful increase to them every where, where you come with the glad tidings of the great salvation.

At Aberdeen, one of the Ministers of that city, thus writes of him, to a person of distinction. Oc|tober

3, 1741 * 2.18. Honoured Sir, at your desire, I shall not refuse, (however much reason I may have for declining to offer my judgment, or opi|nion in things of this nature) to acquaint you freely of what I think of the Rev. Mr. White|field, or rather what is the opinion of persons of more acquaintance with the good ways of God.

He is, I believe, justly esteemed by all who are personally acquainted with h•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••nent in|strument of reviving, in thei•• ••ng times, a just sense and concern for the great things of re|ligion. We have, of late, been much employed, and a great noise has been made, about the lesser matters of the law: and are now much broken in judgment about things, many of which, I must own, I do not understand† 2.19. The cry has been,

and still continues loud, 'Lo here is Christ, and lo there.' And now the Lord has raised up this eminent instrument, from a quarter, whence we could not have expected it, to call us all to return to him; from whom, it is plain, we have deeply re|volted. His being by education and profession of a different way, from what, I cannot but think, is most justly professed among us, seems to me, to add n•• 〈…〉〈…〉 ••ht to his testimony; as does al|so hi•• 〈…〉〈…〉 Lord by this is, as it were, attracting 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and attention to one, who had he been formerly of us, would doubtless, like others, be despised. And yet, I cannot but look upon it as a sad instance of a departing God, that, instead of regard, he meets not only with contempt, but with opposition also, from those who ought to act a very different part. Did he preach another Jesus, or another doctrine, he ought justly to be rejected: but this is not the case. And yet this very thing is advanced as an ar|gument against him: It is said, he advances nothing new. And I allow it. This gives his friends joy. But these reverend Gentlemen should mind, that there are two things in Gospel ordinances, purity and power. The first in mercy, we still have in some good measure (though complaints of the want of this are very open) but the last, we sadly confess the want of, and this is what attends the Gospel dispensed by him. And sure, I am, that even the credible reports of it should much endear him to all, who wish well to the interest of our dear, though too unknown, and altogether lovely Lord Jesus.

His calmness and serenity under all he meets with, yea his joy in tribulation, is to me so sur|prising, that I often think, the Lord sent him to this place, in particular, to teach me how to preach, and especially how to suffer.

His attachment to no party, but to Christ, and true grace alone, has long appeared to me a pecu|liar excellency in him. Christianity has been so long broken into so many different sects and par|ties, that an honest pagan might justly be at a loss, was he among us, where to find the religion of Jesus.

One now appears, who loudly calls us (and whose voice the Lord seems to back with power) to look into the original plan of that religion we profess: sure nothing more just, nothing more rea|sonable. He tells us, wherein the kingdom of God does consist. And yet how sad is it, he should be despised. Who knows but this may be the Lord's last voice to us, before he takes his kingdom from us?

As to what you ask of his reception in this city; I invited him, nay, urged him, to under|take this journey, in consequence of a correspon|dence with him, for more than two or three years. I did it with the concurrence of a very few. His journey was delayed, till bad reports had imbitter|ed the minds of almost all against him: so that when he came, I could scarce obtain liberty for him to preach even in the fields. All that I could do, was what I had resolved long before; I gave him with great pleasure, and full freedom, my pul|pit, which, for that day, was in the church which our Magistrates and principal people of note fre|quent. And at once, the Lord, by his preaching, melted down the hearts of his enemies, (except — and—) so that, contrary to our custom, he was al|lowed the same place and pulpit in the evening of that

day and the other church as often as he pleas|ed.

While he stayed among us in this city, he an|swered our expectations so much, that he has scarce more friends any where of its bulk, than here, where, at first, almost all were against him. And the word came also with so much power, that I hope several of different denominations, will bless the Lord for evermore, that ever they heard him. And in his way from us, I saw in part, and have heard more fully since, what satisfies that this was of the Lord, and for the good of many.

P. S. I suppose you have heard, that our Magi|strates waited on him while here, and made him free of this place; though that is a compliment, rarely allowed to strangers, of late.

Mr. Willison, Minister at Dundee, wrote as fol|lows, to his friend at Edinburgh.

October 8, 1741* 2.20. Honoured Sir, I am favoured with yours, wherein you desire my thoughts of Mr. White|field, and an account of his labours and success with us. Although my sentiments may be little regarded by many, yet when you put me to it, I think I am bound to do justice to the character of this stranger, which I see few willing to do. I am not much surprized, though the devil, and all he can influence, be up in arms against the youth, seeing he makes such bold and vigorous attacks upon his kingdom and strong holds. As you, Sir, do observe it to be with you, so it is with us. He is hated, and spoken against, by all the episco|pal party, and even the most of our clergy do la|bour to diminish and expose him: this is not to be wondered at, seeing his incessant labours for Christ and souls, is such a strong reproof to them; be|sides, what he says publicly, against the sending out of unconverted Ministers, and their preaching

an unknown Christ; this must be galling to car|nal men. I look upon this youth, as raised up of God, for special service, and spirited for making new and singular attempts, for promoting true christianity in the world, and for reviving it where it is decayed; and I see him wonderfully fitted and strengthened, both in body and mind, for go|ing through his projects, amidst the greatest dis|couragements and difficulties. I see the man to be all of a piece; his life and conversation to be a transcript of his sermons. It is truly a rare thing, to see so much of God about any one man. To see one so eminent for humility, in the midst of applause; for meekness and patience, under reproaches and injuries; for love to ene|mies; for desire to glorify Christ, and save souls; contentment in a mean lot, acquiesing in the will of God in all cases, never fretting under any dis|pensation, but still praising and giving thanks for every thing. It is rare to see in a man, such a flaming fire for God and against sin, when in the pulpit; and yet most easy and calm in conversing with men out of it; careful not to give offence to them, and yet never courting the favour of any. God has bestowed a large measure of gifts and gra|ces upon him, for the work he is engaged in, and has made him a chosen vessel, to carry his name among the Gentiles, and to revive his work in several other churches. O that God may order his coming to poor Scotland, in such a cloudy time, for the same end! And who knows, but God might be entreated, if we could wrestle with him, notwithstanding all our provocations! Things appeared most unlikely, in other places, some while ago, where now Christ is riding in triumph, going forth conquering and to conquer. This worthy youth, is singularly fitted to do the work of an Evangelist; and I have been long of opi|nion,

that it would be for the advantage of the world, were this still to be a standing office in the church. And seeing the Lord has stirred him up to venture his life, reputation, and his all for Christ; refuse the best benefices in his own coun|try, and run all hazards by sea and land, and travel so many thousand miles to proclaim the glo|ry of Christ, and riches of his free-grace, of which he himself is a monument; and especially, seeing God has honoured him to do all this with such sur|prising success, among sinners of all ranks and per|suasions, and even many of the most notorious, in awakening and turning them to the Lord; I truly think we are also bound to honour him, and to esteem him highly in love for his master's, and for his work's sake, according to 1 Thess. v. 13. And for those who vilify and oppose him, I wish they would even notice a Gamaliel's words, Acts v. 'Let him alone, lest haply ye be found to sight against God:' Or rather, that they would re|gard the Apostle Peter's words, apologizing for his going in with the uncircumcised, Acts xi. when the Holy Ghost fell upon them; 'What was I that I could withstand God?' I have my|self been witness to the Holy Ghost falling upon him and his hearers oftener than once, I do not say in a miraculous, though in an observeable manner. Yea, I have already seen the desireable fruits thereof in not a few; and hope, through the divine blessing on the seed sown, to see more. Many here are blessing God, for sending him to this country, though satan has raged much against it.

The Lord is a sovereign agent, and may raise up the instruments of his glory, from what churches or places he pleases; and glorifies his grace the more, when he does it from those societies, whence and when it could be least expected.

Though Mr. Whitefield be ordained, according to his education, a Minister of the Church of Eng|land; yet we are to regard him as one, whom God has raised up, to witness against the corruptions of that church; whom God is still enlightening, and causing to make advances towards us. He has already conformed to us, both in doctrine and wor|ship, and lies open to light to conform to us in other points. He is thoroughly a Calvinist, and found to the doctrines of Free Grace, in the doc|trine of Original Sin, the New Birth, justification by Christ, the necessity of imputed righteousness, the operations of the Holy Ghost, &c. These he makes his great theme, drives the point home to the conscience, and God attends it with great pow|er. And as God has enlightened him gradually in these things, so he is still ready to receive more light, and as soon as he gets it, he is most frank in declaring it.

God, by owning him so wonderfully, is pleased to give a rebuke to our intemperate bigotry, and party-zeal, and to tell us, that neither circum|cision nor uncircumcision availeth any thing. But a new creature.

P. S. Many with us are for preferring Ministers, according to the party they are of, but commend me to a pious, Christ-exalt|ing, and soul-winning Minister, whatever be his denomination. Such are Ministers of Christ's sending, and of such he saith, 'He that receiveth you, receiveth me, and he despiseth you, despiseth me;' which is a rule of duty to us.

The four proceeding letters shew the acceptable|ness and success of Mr. Whitefield's ministrations in most of the great towns in Scotland. As to smal|ler places the following extract of a letter from the Rev. Mr. Thomas Davidson (his fellow-traveller) to the Rev. Mr. Henry Davidson of Gallashields, dated Cul|ross,

December 3, 1741, will be an agreeable speci|men.

Our journey to the north was as comfortable as any we had. In several places as he came along, the Lord countenanced him in a very convincing manner, particularly at a place called Lundie, five miles north from Dundee, where there is a con|siderable number of serious christians, who hearing that he was to come that way, spent most part of the night before in prayer together. Although his preaching there was only in a passing way, having to ride to Dundee after it, and it was be|twixt three and four before he reached the place; yet he had but scarce well begun, before the pow|er of God was indeed very discernable. Never did I see such a pleasing melting in a worshipping assembly. There was nothing violent in it, or like what we may call screwing up the passions: for it evidently appeared to be deep and hearty, and to proceed from a higher spring.

The compiler lately received a transcript, from the diary of a very worthy christian in Edinburgh, who died about two years ago, in which are the following passages.

Sabbati, August 9, 1741. What is sur|prizing, is, that numbers of all ranks, all denomi|nations, and all characters, come constantly to hear him, though his sermons abound with those truths which would be unwelcome from the mouth of others. He is indefatigable in his works. Three hours before noon he appoints, for people under distress to converse with him, when he is much confined. Then he writes numbers of let|ters. And this week he is to add a morning lecture to his work. I have reason, among many others, for blessing God, for sending him to this place.

Sabbati, August 30, 1741. Mr. W— preach|ed Monday morning and afternoon, Tuesday forenoon in the Canongate church, evening in

the park, and gathered 25 l. 7s. 6d. for the poor Highlanders. Next day he went to Newbottle, and preached twice. On Thursday to Whitburn; Friday morning at Torphichen; Friday evening at Linlithgow; Saturday morning and afternoon both at Falkirk. And this day he is at Airth. To|morrow he will preach twice at Sirling. Culross, Tuesday forenoon; Dumfermlin, afternoon. Wed|nesday, twice at Kinross. Thursday, Perth. From Friday to Monday, at Dundee. Monday, Kinglas|sie, and came to Edinburgh on Tuesday. Blessed be God, he seldom preaches without some one or other laid under concern. Surely God has sent him to this place for good. The devil never raged more by his emissaries. It is remarkable, there never was a Minister, no nor any other man, against whom the mouths of the licentious have been more opened. Since he came, I have found myself more desirous to be watchful, lest my foot slipt at any time, and to guard against many things, which before I thought indifferent.

Thursday, October 29, 1741. Yesterday Mr. Whitefield left this place, to return to England. His departure was a great grief to many, whom the Lord has mercifully awakened, under his mi|nistry, the number of which, I believe, is very great. Mr. W—r alone, among about thirty young communicants that came to converse with him, found about a dozen, who told him, They were first effectually touched under his ministry; and gave very good accounts of a work of God upon their souls. Some of the most abandoned wretches are brought to cry, 'What shall I do to be saved?' I have often had the opportunity of conversation with him, and, I think, I never heard him, or conversed with him, but I learn|ed some good lesson. I do not remember to have heard one idle word drop from him, in all the times I have been in company with him, and

others that have been much more with him, give him the same testimony. On Tuesday last, he preached and exhorted seven times. I heard him to my great satisfaction the fourth time, in the park. From that he went to the Old People's Hospi|tal, to give them an exhortation; but indeed, I never was witness to any thing of the kind before. All the congregation (for many followed him) were so moved, that very few, if any, could refrain from crying out. I am sure, the kingdom of God was then come nigh unto them, and that a woe will be unto them that slighted the offers of a Sa|viour then made to them. From that, he went to Heriot's Hospital, where a great change is wrought, upon many of the boys; for there, as well as in the Maiden-Hospitals, fellowship-meetings are set up, which is quite new there; for the boys of that Hospital were noted for the wickedest boys about town. I was with him in a private house in the evening. When he came there, he was quite worn out. However, he expounded there, which was the seventh discourse that day; and, what was very surprizing, he was much fresher after he had done, than at the beginning.

November 29, 1741, I had agreeable accounts of some of the children who were wrought upon by the ministry of Mr. W—d. I heard this day of a good many I heard not of formerly, who were not only laid under concern, but seem|ed to have a work of grace wrought upon their heart, appearing by a most remarkable change in their conversation, and eager desires after far|ther degrees of knowledge of the Lord's ways, which leads them to attend every opportunity they can have for instruction.

Sabbati, December 6, 1741. Since Mr. White|field's coming here, I find christians freer in con|versation than formerly; which is a great mercy, both to themselves, and all about them; the ex|perience

of which I have had this by past week, in several places where I have been. I had occasion to see a soldier, who was lately wrought upon by Mr. Whitefield's means. He seems to have come a great length in a little time, and gives a very judicious account of the Lord's dealings with his soul.

As a conclusion of this article, concerning Mr. Whitefield's first reception and ministrations in Scot|land, the reader will not be displeased to see the fol|lowing extract from the papers of a Gentleman deceas|ed, who was eminent for his learning and knowledge of the world, and who had a general acquaintance with those who professed the greatest regard to religion.

Messieurs Ebenezer and Ralph Erskine corres|ponded with him for two or three years, and invited him to Scotland. But afterwards reflect|ing that if they held communion with an episcopal Minister, because a good man and successful preacher, they could not vindicate their renouncing commu|nion with such Ministers in the Church of Scot|land: They wrote to him not to come. Howe|ver, on the invitation of some Ministers and people of the established church he came, and preached his first sermon in Mr. Ralph Erskine's pulpit at Dumfermlin (a town ten or twelve miles from Edinburgh on the other side of Forth.) At a se|cond visit to Dumfermlin, he had a conference with all the seceding brethren, where he ho|nestly avowed that he was a member of the Church of England, and as he thought the government and worship of it lawful, was resolved, unless violently thrust out of it, to continue so, rebuking sin and preaching Christ: And told them the reckoned the Solemn League and Covenant a sin|ful Oath, as too much narrowing the communi|nion of saints, and that he could not see the di|vine

right of Presbytery. On this they came to a presbyterial resolution to have no more to do with him; and one of them preached a sermon to shew that one who held communion with the Church of England, or backslidden Church of Scotland, could not be an instrument of reformati|on. This, however, did not hinder multitudes, both of the Seceders and established Church of Scotland, from hearing his sermons. His sound|ness in the faith, his servent zeal, and unwearied diligence for promoting the cause of Christ; the plainness and simplicity, the affection and warmth of his sermons: and the amazing power that had accompanied them in many parts of England, and in almost all the North American colonies, joined to his meekness, humility, and truly can|did and catholic spirit, convinced them there was reason to think well of him, and to counte|nance his ministry. Conversions were become rare, little liveliness was to be found even in real christians, and bigottry and blind zeal were pro|ducing animosities and divisions, and turning away the attention of good men from matters of infi|nitely greater importance. In this situation, an animated preacher appears, singularly qualified to awaken the secure, to recover christians to their first love, and first works, and to reconcile their affections one to another.

The episcopal clergy gave him no counte|nance, though some few of their people did. And in the established Church of Scotland, some of the more rigid Presbyterians would not hold communion with him, on account of his con|nection with the Church of England, and his seeming to assume the office of an Evangelist, peculiar, in their apprehension, to the first ages of the church: while some, who affected to be thought more sensible, or more modish and polite,

were mightily dissatisfied with him for preaching the Calvinist Doctrines of Election, Original Sin, Efficacious Grace, Justification through Faith, and the Perseverance of the Saints; and for inveighing against the play-house, dancing assemblies, games of chance, haunting taverns, vanity and extrava|gance in dress, and levity in behaviour and con|versation.

Some Gentlemen and Ladies who went to hear, would not go a second time, because he disturbed them, by insisting on man's miserable and dange|rous state by nature, and the strictness and holi|ness essential to the christian character. But upon many of his hearers in Edinburgh of all ranks and ages, especially young people, deep impressions were made, and many of them waited on him pri|vately, lamenting their former immoral lives, or stupid thoughtlessness about religion, and expres|sing their anxious concern about obtaining an in|terest in Christ, and the sanctifying influences of of the Spirit. In the greatest part of these, the impressions have appeared to be saving, from their circumspect examplary conduct since that time, or from their comfortable, or triumphant deaths. Many Presbyterians begin to think more mildly and candidly than before, of the Ministers and members of the Church of England* 2.21.

CHAP. IX. From his leaving EDINBURGH 1741, to his Return to that City in the Year 1742.

MR. Whitefield having left Edinburgh in the in the latter end of October 1741, set out for Abergavenny in Wales, where, having some time ago formed a resolution to enter into the married state, he married one Mrs. James* 2.22, a widow, between thirty and forty years of age; of whom he says (Letter CCCLXXVI.)

She has been a house-keeper many years, once gay, but for three years last past, a despised follower of the Lamb of God.

From Abergavenny he went to Bristol, where he preached twice a day with his usual success. Upon returning to London in the beginning of December, he receiv|ed letters from Georgia concerning his orphan-family, which, with respect to their external circumstances, were a little discouraging. On the other hand, he had most comfortable accounts of the fruits of his ministry in Scotland. This made him think of pay|ing another visit there in the spring. Meantime, he had the pleasure of seeing his labours attended with the divine blessing at London and Bristol. And from Gloucester he thus writes,

December 22, 1741. Last Thursday evening the Lord brought me hi|ther. I preached immediately to our friends in in a large barn, and had my Master's presence. On Friday and Saturday, I preached again twice. Both the power and the congregation increased. On Sunday Providence opened a door for my preaching in St. John's, one of the parish churches.

Great numbers came. On Sunday afternoon, af|ter I had preached twice at Gloucester, I preach|ed at Mr. F—'s at the hill, six miles off, and ••gain at night, at Stroud. The people seemed to be more hungry than ever, and the Lord to be more amongst them. Yesterday morning I preached at Painswick in the parish church, here in the af|ternoon, and again at night in the barn. God gives me unspeakable comfort, and uninterrupted joy. Here seems to be a new awakening, and a re|vival of the work of God. I find several country peo|ple were awakened when I preached at Tewksbury, and heard of three or four that have died in the Lord. We shall never know what good field-preaching has done, till we come to judgment. Many who were pre|judiced against me, begin to be of another mind; and God shows me more and more, that when a man's ways please the Lord, he will make even his enemies to be at peace with him. Tomorrow morning I purpose to set out for Abergavenny, and to preach at Bristol, in Wilts, Gloucester, and Gloucestershire, before I see London.

In the latter end of December he came to Bristol, where he continued near a month, preaching twice every day, and writing to his friends in Londo•• ••••d Scotland. He also set up a general monthly me••••ing to read corresponding letters. From Bristol he re|turned to Gloucester, and January 28, 1742, write

* 2.23 On Friday last I left Bristol, having first settled affairs, almost as I could wish. At Kingswood, I administered the sacrament on Wednesday night. It was the Lord's passover. On Thursday we had a sweet love-feast; on Friday the Lord was with me twice at Tockington; on Saturday morning I broke up some fallow ground at Newport; and in the evening preached to many thousands at Stroud; on Monday morning at Painswick, and ever since

twice a day here. Our congregations, •• ••hink, are larger than at Bristol. Every sermon is blessed.

On his way to London, Feb. 23, he was still far|ther encouraged by receiving letters from Ameri•••• informing him of the remarkable success of the ••••••+pel there, and that God had stirred up some wealthy friends to assist his orphans in their late straits.

The everlasting God reward all their benefactors. I find there has been a fresh awakening among them. I am informed, that twelve negroes, be|longing to a planter lately converted at the Orphan|house, are savingly brought home to Jesus Christ * 2.24.

Upon his return to London, he went on with greater zeal and success, if possible, than ever.

Our Saviour (says he, writing to a brother † 2.25, April 6, 1742) is doing great things in London daily. I rejoice to hear that you are helped in your work. Let this encourage you: go on, go on; the more we do, the more we may do for Jesus. I sleep and eat but little, and am constantly employed from morning till midnight, and yet my strength is dai|ly renewed. O free grace! It fires my soul, and makes me long to do something for Jesus. It is true, indeed I want to go home; but here are so many souls ready to perish for lack of knowledge, that I am willing to tarry below as long as my Master has work for me.

From this principle of compassion to perishing souls, he now ventured to take a very extraordinary step. It had been the custom for many years past, in the holiday seasons, to erect booths in Moorfields, for mountebanks, players, puppet shows, &c. which were attended from morning till night, by innumerable multitudes of the lower sort of people. He formed a resolution to preach the gospel among them; and executed it. On Whitmonday, at six o'clock in the morning, attended by a large congregation of pray|ing

people, he began. Thousands, who were wait|ing there, gaping for their usual diversions, all flock|ed round him. His text was, John iii. 14.

And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up.

They gazed, they listened, they wept: and many seemed to be stung with deep conviction for their past sins. All was hushed and solemn.

* 2.26 Being thus encouraged, (says he) I ventured out again at noon, when the fields were quite full; and could scarce help smil|ing, to see thousands, when a merry-andrew was trumpeting to them, upon observing me mount a stand on the other side of the field, deserting him, till not so much as one was left behind, but all flocked to hear the gospel. But this, together with a complaint that they had taken near twenty or thirty pounds less that day than usual, so en|raged the owners of the booths, that when I came to preach a third time in the evening, in the midst of the sermon, a merry-andrew got up upon a man's shoulders, and advancing near the pulpit, attempted to slash me with a long heavy whip se|veral times. Soon afterwards they got a recruit|ing serjeant, with his drum, &c. to pass through the congregation. But I desired the people to make way for the King's officer, which was quiet|ly done. Finding these efforts to fail, a large body, quite on the opposite side, assembled together, and having got a great pole for their standard, advan|ced with sound of drum, in a very threatening manner, till they came near the skirts of the con|gregation. Uncommon courage was given both to preacher and hearers. I prayed for support and deliverance, and was heard. For just as they ap|proached us with looks full of resentment, I know not by what accident, they quarrelled among them|selves, threw down their staff, and went their way,

leaving, however, many of their company behind, who, before we had done, I trust were brought over to join the besieged party. I think I conti|nued in praying, preaching, and singing, (for the noise was too great at times to preach) about 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hours. We then retired to the Tabernacle, where thousands flocked. We were determined to pray down the booths; but blessed be God, more sub|stantial work was done. At a moderate computa|tion, I received, I believe, a thousand notes from persons under conviction; and soon after, upwards of three hundred were received into the society in one day. Some I married, that had lived together without marriage. One man had exchanged his wife for another, and given fourteen shillings in exchange. Numbers, that seemed as it were to have been bred up for Tyburn, were at that time plucked as firebrands out of the burning.

I cannot help adding, that several little boys and girls, who were fond of sitting round me on the pulpit, while I preached, and handing to me peo|ple's notes, though they were often pelted with eggs, dirt, &c. thrown at me, never once gave way; but on the contrary, every time I was struck, turned up their little weeping eyes, and seemed to wish they could receive the blows for me. God make them, in their growing years, great and liv|ing martyrs for him, who out of the mouths of babes and sucklings perfects praise.

CHAP. X. From his Arrival in SCOTLAND 1742, to his Return to LONDON the same Year.

SOON after this, he embarked a second time for Scotland and arrived at Leith, June 3, 1742.

From the Diary, formerly quoted, we have the following,

Edinburgh, Sabbath, June 6, 1742. On Thursday last our dear friend Mr. Whitefield returned to this place, to the great comfort of many honest christians, especially of those to whom he was made a mean of conviction and conversion when last here.—He seems to have improved much in christian knowledge. He is much refreshed with the accounts of the work of God in the west country. I have heard him preach five excellent discourses, all calculated for the building up of christians, (though he never fails to put in a word for the conviction of sinners) and I think, can say, that I have never heard him without some influence attending his preaching, especially in private houses. O may the impressions made on my heart never wear off, lest at any time I should be in danger of dropping my watch, and becoming untender.

Sabb. Oct. 17, 1742. It is a great recommen|dation of Mr. Whitefield to me, that though the Seceders give him every bad character that can be devised, viz. a sorcerer, &c. yet he takes all pa|tiently, and wherever he goes, speaks well of them, so far as he can: for none can approve of those gross parts of their conduct: therefore these he chooses to cast a mantle of love over.

But here it is proper to take a view of the state of

things in that country upon his arrival. It had pleased God to bless his first visit to Scotland, not only for the conversion of particular persons, and the com|fort and quickening of private christians, but to rouse them to more than ordinary concern about the salva|tion of their neighbours, and to excite pious and con|scientious Ministers to greater diligence in their work. Prayers were put up, with some degree of faith and hope, that God would now give success to their la|bours; and not suffer them always to complain that they spent their strength in vain. Nor were these prayers long unanswered: for in the month of Febru|ary, 1742, an extraordinary religious concern began to appear publicly at Cambuslang; and soon after at Kilsyth and other places; the news of which quickly spread through the land, and engaged general atten|tion. Of this, a just though short description is gi|ven in the following letter, written by the Rev. Mr. Hamilton (then Minister in the Barony parish, now in the High-Church of Glasgow) to Mr. Prince, Minister in Boston * 2.27.

Glasgow, September 13, 1742. We in the south and west of Scotland, have great reason to join in thankfulness to God, with you, for the days of the Redeemer's power that we are favoured with. Mr. Whitefield came to Scotland in summer 1741, for the first time: and in many places where he preached, his mini|strations were evidently blessed, particularly in the cities of Edinburgh and Glasgow, where a consi|derable number of persons were brought under such impressions of religion, as have never yet left them; but they are still following on to know the Lord. However, this was only the beginning of far greater things: for about the middle of Febru|ary last, a very great concern appeared among the people of Cambuslang, a small parish, lying four miles south-east of Glasgow, under the pastoral in|spection

of the Rev. Mr. William MacCulloch, a man of considerable parts and great piety. This concern appeared with some circumstances very unusual among us: to wit, severe bodily agonies, outcryings, and faintings in the congregation. This made the report of it spread like fire, and drew vast multitudes of people from all quar|ters to that place. And I believe, in less than two months after the commencement of it, there were few parishes within twelve miles of Cambus|lang, but had some, more or fewer awakened there, so a very deep piercing sense of sin: and many at much greater distance. I am verily per|suaded with your worthy brother Mr. Cooper, in his preface to Mr. Edwards's sermon, that God has made use of these uncommon circumstances, to make his work spread the faster. But, blessed be God, Cambuslang is not the only place where these impressions are got. The same work is spreading in other parishes, and under their own Ministers, particularly at Calder, Kilsyth, and Cumbernaud, all to the north, and north-east of Glasgow. And I doubt not, that since the middle of February, when this work began at Cambuslang, there are upwards of two thousand persons awaken|ed, and almost all of them, by the best accounts I have, in a promising condition: there being very few instances of impostors, or such as have lost their impressions; and many whom we are bound to think are true Scripture converts, and evidencing it by a suitable walk and conversation. There is evidently a greater seriousness and con|cern about religion appearing in most of our con|gregations, than formerly: a greater desire after the word; people applying themselves more close|ly to their duty; and erecting new societies for prayer and spiritual conference: which gives us

the joyful prospect of a considerable enlargement of the Messiah's kingdom.

My parish has likewise had some share in this good work. There has been above an hundred new communicants among them this summer, who never did partake of the blessed sacrament before: which is five times as many as ever I admitted in any former year: most of them were awakened at Cambuslang; some of them in their own church; and in others the impressions have been more gra|dual, and not attended with these uncommon cir|cumstances before mentioned. And, it is to be ob|served, that before we admit any person to the Lord's table, we particularly examine them, and are satisfied with their knowledge of the principles of religion, of the nature and ends of the sacra|ment, and the impressions of religion they have on their minds.

To the same purpose is the Rev. Mr. Willison's letter to Dr. Colman, Minister in Boston, dated Dun|de••, Feb. 28, 1743.

* 2.28 I must inform you a little of the work of God begun here. I told you in my last, that after Mr. Whitefield's first coming and preaching three months in Scotland, there were some beginnings of a revival of religion in some of our principal cities, as Edinburgh and Glasgow, which still continue and increase, especi|ally since Mr. Whitefield's second coming in June last. But besides these cities, the Lord hath been pleased to begin a work much like that in New-England, in several places in the west of Scotland. The first parish awakened, was Cambuslang; the next was the parish of Kilsyth, about nine miles north east of Glasgow, and afterward the parishes of Calder, Kirkintilloch, Cumbernaud, Campsie, Kil|marneck, Gargunnock, and a great many others in the country. The awakenings of people have been, in a good many, attended with outcryings,

faintings, and bodily distresses: but in many more, the work has proceeded with great calmness. But the effects in both sorts are alike good and de|sirable, and hitherto we hear nothing of their fall|ing back from what they have professed at the be|ginning: and still we hear of some new parishes falling under great concern here and there, though the great cryings and outward distresses are much ceased.

The Lord, in this backsliding time, is willing to pity us, and see our ways and heal them, however crooked and perverse they have been. O shall not this wonderful step of divine condescension, lead us all to repentance, and to go out to meet a re|turning God, in the way of humiliation and refor|mation. The Magistrates and Ministers in Edin|burgh, are beginning to set up societies for refor|mation of manners, and new lectures on week days. ••ay all our cities follow their example. There is a great increase of praying societies also in Edin|burgh and other towns and villages; and in them they are keeping days of thanksgiving for the par|tial waterings the Lord is giving us: those in Edinburgh send printed memorials to others thro' the nation, to excite them to it.

The Rev. Mr. Macknight of Irvine, thus writes to Mr. Whitefield, June 21, 1742.

Blessed be our glo|rious God, there are some awakenings amongst us at Irvine; not only of those who have been at Cambuslang, but several others are lately brought into great concern about their eternal state, and among them several children; the news of which I know will rejoice you, and I hope will encourage you to visit us, to help forward this great and glo|rious work of converting sinners.

Extract of a letter from a person of distinction to the Compiler.

Edinburgh, February, 1772. I would not ascribe all the revival of religion in

Scotland, to the instrumentality of Mr. Whitefield. At Cambuslang, it began, before he had been there; but in Edinburgh, and all the other places in Scotland, that I heard of, after diligent enqui|ry, it began with his ••st visit. This honour he had from his divine Master, and it ought not to be taken from him. And every time he came to Scotland, it is an undoubted fact, that an uncom|mon power attended his ministry: and many were always brought under serious and lasting impres|sions.

The greatest strangers to religion could not avoid hearing of these things, but they were very different|ly affected with them. Whilst some became more thoughtful and serious, many mocked, and some were even filled with rage. On the other hand, the tem|per and behaviour of those who were the subjects of this remarkable work, was the strongest of all argu|ments that it came from above. Their earnest desire to be rightly directed in the way to heaven; their tender and conscientious walk; their faithfulness in the duties of their stations; their readiness to make ample restitution for any act of injustice they had for|merly committed; their disposition to judge mildly of others, but severely of themselves; their laying aside quarrels and law-suits, and desiring to be reconciled, and to live peaceably with all men; such amiable and heavenly qualities, especially when appearing in some who had formerly been of a very opposite cha|racter, could not fail to strike every serious observer. In short, it was such a time for the revival of religi|on, as had never before been seen in Scotland* 2.29.

The enmity which wicked and profane men dis|covered against this work, and the derision with which they treated it, is no more than what might naturally be expected. But it is not so easy to account for the conduct of the Seceders. These, not satisfied with forbearing to approve of it, went the length even to appoint a general fast among them, one of the grounds of which was, the receiving Mr. Whitefield into Scotland; and another, the delusion, as they cal|led it, at Cambuslang and other places. And Mr. Gibb, one of their Ministers, wrote a pamphlet in|veighing against both, in the most virulent language. Such was the bigotry, and misguided zeal of the bulk of the party at that time. It is hoped their succes|sors have juster views of this matter. But it is not proper here to enlarge upon this subject* 2.30. With re|spect to Mr. Whitefield, the spring of their first oppo|sition to him, sufficiently appears from his conversa|tion with them at Dunsermlin, formerly mentioned. And the following letter, which he wrote at Cambus|lang, August 1742, and which was afterwards printed at Glasgow, gives an account of their objections, and his answers, which are perfectly agreeable to the spi|rit

of both* 2.31.

I heartily thank you for your con|cern about unworthy me. Though I am not very solicitous what the world say of me, yet I would not refuse to give any one, much less a Minister of Jesus Christ, (and such an one I take you to be) all reasonable satisfaction about any part of my doctrine or conduct. I am sorry that the associate presbytery, besides the other things exceptionable in the grounds of their late fast, have done me much wrong. As to what they say about the su|premacy, my sentiments, as to the power and au|thority of the civil magistrate as to sacred things, agree with what is said in the Westminster Confes|sion of Faith, chap. xxiii. paragraph 3 and 4. And I do own the Lord Jesus to be the blessed head and king of his church.

The Solemn League and Covenant I never ab|jured, neither was it ever proposed to me to be ab|jured: and as for my missives, if the associate pres|bytery will be pleased to print them, the world will see that they had no reason to expect I would act in any other manner than I have done. What that part of my experience is, that savours of the grossest enthusiasm, I know not, because not spe|cified; but this one thing I know, when I convers|ed with them, they were satisfied with the account I then gave of my experiences, and also of the validity of my mission; only, when they found I would preach the Gospel promiscuously to all, and for every Minister that would invite me, and not adhere only to them, one of them particularly said, 'They were satisfied with all the other accounts which I gave of myself, except of my call to Scot|land at that time.' They would have been glad of my help, and have received me as a Minister of Jesus Christ, had I consented to have preached only at the invitation of them and their people.

But I judged that to be contrary to the dictates of my conscience; and therefore I could not comply. I thought their foundation was too narrow for any high house to be built upon. I declared freely when last in Scotland (and am more and more con|vinced of it since) that they were building a Babel* 2.32. At the same time, they knew very well, I was very far from being against all church-government (for how can any church subsist without it?) I only urged, as I do now, that since holy men differ so much about the outward form, we should bear with, and forbear one another, though in this respect we are not of one mind. I have often declared in

the most public manner, that I believe the Church of Scotland to be the best constituted national church in the world. At the same time I would bear with, and converse freely with all others, who do not err in fundamentals, and who give evidence that they are true lovers of the Lord Jesus. This is what I mean by a catholic spirit. Nor that I believe a Jew or Pagan continuing such, can be a true christian, or have true christianity in them; and if there be any thing tending that way in the late extract which I sent you, I utterly disavow it. And I am sure, I observed no such thing in it, when I published it, though upon a closer review, some expressions seem justly exceptionable. You know how strongly I assert all the doctrines of grace as held forth in the Westminster Confes|sion of Faith, and doctrinal articles of the Church of England. These I trust I shall adhere to as long as I live, because I verily believe they are the truths of God, and have felt the power of them in my own heart. I am only concerned that good men should be guilty of such misrepresenta|tions. But this teaches me more and more to exercise compassion toward all the children of God, and to be more jealous over our own hearts, knowing what fallible creatures we all are. I ac|knowledge that I am a poor blind sinner, liable to err, and would be obliged to an enemy, much more to so dear a friend as you are, to point out to me my mistakes, as to my practice, or unguarded expressions in my preaching or writing. At the same time, I would humble myself before my Master, for any thing I may say or do amiss, and beg the influence and assistance of his blessed Spirit, that I may say and do so no more.

So much for Mr. Whitefield's difference with the Seceders. But notwithstanding all this, upon his se|cond arrival in Scotland, June 1742, he was receiv|ed

by great numbers, among whom were some per|sons of distinction, with much joy: and had the satis|faction of seeing and hearing more and more of the happy fruits of his ministry.

Edinburgh June 4, 1742. This morning I received glorious accounts of the carrying on of the Mediator's kingdom. Three of the little boys that were converted when I was last here, came to me and wept, and begged me to pray for and with them. A Minister tells me, that scarce one is falling back, who was awakened, either among old or young. The ser|jeant, whose letter brother C— has, goes on well with his company.* 2.33

And in the M.S.

Societies (or fellowship meetings) I found set up for prayer, especially at Glasgow and Edinburgh. Several young Gentlemen dedi|cated themselves to the ministry, and became burning and shining lights.

At Edinburgh he preached twice a day, as usual, in the Hospital park, where a number of seats and shades, in the form of an amphitheatre, were erected for the ac|commodation of his hearers. And in consequence of earnest invitations, he went to the west country, particularly to Cambuslang, where he preached no less than three times upon the very day of his arri|val, to a vast body of people, although he had preached that same morning at Glasgow. The last of these exercises he began at nine at night, continuing till eleven, when he said, he observed such a commotion among the people, as he had never seen in America. Mr. MacCulloch preached after him, till past one in the morning, and even then could hardly persuade the people to depart. All night in the fields might be heard the voice of prayer and praise. As Mr. Whitefield was frequently at Cam|buslang during this season, a description of what he observed there at different times, will be best given in

his own words* 2.34:

Persons from all parts flocked to to see, and many from many parts, went home convinced, and converted unto God. A brae, or hill, near the manse at Cambuslang, seemed to be formed by Providence, for containing a large con|gregation. People sat unwearied till two in the morning, to hear sermons, disregarding the weather. You could scarce walk a yard, but you must tread upon some, rejoicing in God for mercies received, or crying out for more. Thousands and thousands have I seen, before it was possible to catch it by sympathy, melted down under the word and power of God. At the celebration of the holy commu|nion, their joy was so great, that at the desire of many, both Ministers and people, in imitation of Hezekiah's passover, they had, a month or two af|terwards, a second; which was a general rendez|vous of the people of God. The communion|table was in the field; three tents, at proper dis|tances, all surrounded with a multitude of hearers; above twenty Ministers (among whom was good old Mr. Bonner) attending to preach and assist, all enlivening and enlivened by one another.

Besides his labours at Glasgow and Cambuslang, it is somewhat surprising to think, how many other pla|ces in the west of Scotland he visited within the com|pass of a few weeks, preaching once or twice at eve|ry one of them, and at several three or four times. It is worth while to set down the journal † 2.35 of a week or two. In the beginning of July, he preached twice on Monday at Paisley; on the Tuesday and Wednes|day, three times each day at Irvine; on Thursday, twice at Mearns; on Friday, three times at Cumber|naud; and on Saturday, twice at Falkirk. And again in the latter end of August ‡ 2.36 on Thursday, he preached twice at Greenock; on Friday three times at Kilbride; on Saturday once at Kilbride, and twice

at Stevenson; on Sabbath, four times at Irvine; on Monday, once at Irvine, and three times at § 2.37 Kilmar|nock;

* 2.38 on Tuesday, once at Kilmarnock, and four times at Stewarton; on Wednesday, once at Stewar|ton, and twice at the Mearns. He was also at In|channen, New Kilpatrick, Calder, and Kilsyth, (where the religious concern still increased) and at Torphichen. He was indeed sometimes taken very ill, and his friends thought he was going off:

But in the pulpit (says he) the Lord out of weakness, makes me to wax strong, and causes me to triumph more and more† 2.39.

And even when he retired for a day or two, it was on purpose to write letters, and to prepare pieces for the press, so that he was as busy as ever‡ 2.40.

When he was at Edinburgh, he received accounts that the Spaniards had landed in Georgia. Upon this occasion he wrote to Mr. Habersham* 2.41,

I am glad my dear family is removed to Mr. Bryan's, and rejoice that our glorious God had raised him and his brother up, to be such friends in time of need. My thoughts have been variously exer|cised, but my heart kept stedfast and joyful in the Lord of all lords, whose mercy endureth for ever. I long to be with you, and methinks could willingly be found at the head of you kneeling and praying, though a Spaniard's sword should be put to my throat. But alas, I know not how I should be|have, if put to the trial; only we have a promise, that as our day is, so our strength shall be. The thoughts of divine love carry me above every thing. My dear friend, the Spaniards cannot rob us of this; nor can men or devils.—I humbly hope that I shall shortly hear of the spiritual and temporal welfare of you all.

And he was not disappointed; for a few weeks after he was inform|ed of his family's safe return to Bethesda† 2.42.

About the end of October he left Scotland, and rode post to London, where he arrived in about five days.

CHAP. XI. From his Arrival in LONDON in the Year 1742, to his embarking for AMERICA, 1744.

ON Mr. Whitefield's arrival in London, he found a new awakening at the Tabernacle, which they had been obliged to enlarge; where, as he ob|serves,

from morning till midnight* 2.43, I am em|employed, and, glory be to rich grace, I am car|ried through the duties of each day with chearful|ness, and almost uninterrupted tranquillity. Our society is large, but in good order. My Master gives us much of his gracious presence, both in our public and private administrations.

In the month of March, 1743, he went into Glou|cestershire, where the people seemed more desirous to hear than ever.

Preaching (says he) in Glouce|stershire† 2.44, is now like preaching at the Taberna|cle in London.

And again, (in a letter, dated April 7,)‡ 2.45

I preached and took leave of the Gloucester people, with mutual and great concern, on Sunday evening last. It was p•••• one in the morning before I could lay my weary body down. At five I rose again, sick for want of rest; but I was enabled to get on horseback, and ride to Mr. F—'s where I preached to a large congregation, who came there at seven in the morning. At ten, I read prayers and preached, and afterward admi|nistered the sacrament in Stonehouse church. Then I rode to Stroud, and preached to about 12,000

in Mistress G—'s field; and about six in the evening to a like number in Hampton Common. After this, went to Hampton, and held a general love feast with the united societies, and went to bed about midnight very chearful and very happy.

Next morning he preached near Dursley to some thousands; about seven reached Bristol, and preach|ed to a full congregation at Smiths-Hall; and on Tuesday morning, after preaching again, set out for Waterford, in South-Wales, where he opened the as|sociation which he and his brethren had agreed upon, and was several days with them, settling the affairs of the societies. He continued in Wales some weeks, and preached with great apparent success at Cardiff, Lantrissant, Neath, Swanzey, Harbrook, Llanelthy, Carmarthen, * 2.46 Larn, Narbatt, Newton, Jefferson, Llassivran, Kidwilly, Llangathan, Landovery, Bre|con Trevecka, Guenfethen, Builth, and the Gore † 2.47,

and in the latter end of April returned to Gloucester, after having, in about three weeks * 2.48, travelled about four hundred English miles, spent three days in at|tending associations† 2.49, and preached about forty times.

In May he went back to London,

Once more, as he expresses it, to attack the prince of darkness in Moorfields,

in the time of the holidays. The congregations were amazingly great, and much af|fected. And by the contributions which were now and formerly made for his orphans, he had the satis|faction of paying all that was due in England, and of making a small remittance to Mr. Habersham ‡ 2.50.

About the middle of June he made another excur|sion, and preached at Fairford, Glanfield, Burford, Bengeworth, and Gloucester; also at Bristol and

Kingswood, and at Brinkworth, Tetherton, and Hampton. At Bristol he continued some time, preaching statedly every day twice, and four times on the Sunday. Afterwards, he preached at Exeter to very large congregations, where many of the cler|gy attended.

In August he returned to London, but made no long stay there.

I thank you, says he to a corre|spondent* 2.51, for your kind caution to spare myself; but evangelizing is certainly my province. Eve|ry where effectual doors are opened. So far from thinking of nestling at London, I am more and more convinced that I should go from place to place.

Accordingly, we find him in the months of October, November, and December, preaching and travelling through the country, as if it had been the middle of summer. At Avon in Wilts, Tetherton, Clack, Brinkworth, Chippenham, Wellington, Cullompton, Exeter, Axminster, Ottery, Biddeford† 2.52, St. Gennis‡ 2.53

in Cornwall, Birmingham* 2.54, Kidderminster† 2.55, and Browsgrove. Nor did he feel his health much im|paired, though it was so late in the season. He ob|serves, indeed, (Letter D••LII) that he had got a cold; but adds, "The Lord warms my heart."

February 1744, an event happened to him, which, amidst all his success, tended to keep him humble, and served to cure him of a weakness to which he had been liable, the trusting to groundless impressi|ons. It was the death of his only child, concerning whom he was so impressed, that he made no scruple of declaring before the birth, that the child would be a son, and that he hoped he would live to preach the gospel. Several narrow escapes which Mrs. White|field had during her pregnancy, confirmed him in his expectations; which were so high, that after he had publicly baptized the child at the Tabernacle, all went away, big with hopes of his being spared to be em|ployed in the work of God. But these fond expec|tations were soon blasted by the child's death, when he was about four months old. This was, no doubt, very humbling to the father; but he was helped to make the wisest and best improvement of it.

Tho' I am disappointed, (says he writing to his friend‡ 2.56)

of a living preacher by the death of my son; yet I hope what happened before his birth, and since at his death, has taught me such lessons, as if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more cautious, more sober-minded, more experienced in Satan's devices, and consequently more useful in his future labours to the church of God.

March 3, he attended the assizes at Gloucester. The occasion was, in the Summer 1743, the Metho|dists had been persecuted and abused by the mob, particularly at Hampton, where several were hurt, and the life of their preachers threatened. Mr. White|field having tried other methods in vain, resolved with the advice and assistance of his brethren, to seek the protection of law: and accordingly got an information lodged against the Hampton rioters in the court of King's-Bench. Facts being proved by a variety of evidence, and the defendants making no reply, the rule was made absolute; and an information filed against them. To this they pleaded, Not Guilty, and therefore the cause was referred in course to the assizes in Gloucester. There he attended and got the better of his adversaries. After a full hearing on both sides, a verdict was given for the prosecutors, and all the defendants were brought in Guilty of the whole information lodged against them. This prose|cution had a very good effect. The rioters were greatly alarmed at the thoughts of having an execu|tion issued out against them. But the intention of the Methodists was, to let them see what they could do, and then to forgive them * 2.57.

Some time before this, several anonymous papers, entitled,

Observations on the Conduct and Beha|viour of a certain Sect, usually distinguished by the name of Methodists,

had been printed, and hand|ed

about in the religious societies of London and Westminster, and given to many private persons, with strict injunctions to part with them to no one. Mr. Whitefield having accidentally had the hasty pe|rusal of them; and finding many queries concerning him and his conduct contained in them; and having applied for a copy, which was refused him, he thought it his duty to publish an advertisement, desiring, (as he knew not how soon he might embark for Geor|gia) a speedy, open publication of the said papers, that he might make a candid and impartial answer. He had reason to believe the Bishop of London was concerned in composing or revising them: but that he might not be mistaken, after the publication of the advertisement, he wrote the Bishop a letter, where|in he desired to know, whether his Lordship was the author or not; and also desired a copy. The Bishop sent word, "He should hear from him." Some time after, one Mr. Owen, printer to the Bishop, left a letter for Mr. Whitefield, informing him that he had orders from several of the Bishops, to print the Ob|servations, &c. with some few additions, for their use; and when the impression was finished, Mr. White|field should have a copy.—For these reasons, Mr. Whitefield thought it proper to direct his Answer to the Observations, to the Bishop of London, and the other Bishops concerned in the publication of them. This Answer occasioned the Rev. Mr. Church's Expostulatory Letter to Mr. Whitefield; to which he soon replied, with thanks to the Author for pre|fixing his name* 2.58.

Having resolved to make another visit to America, whither Mr. Smith, a merchant, then in England, in

the name of thousands invited him. With him he took passage in a ship going from Portsmouth; but being informed, just before he was about to take his farewell, that the Captain refused to take him, for fear, as he alledged, of spoiling the sailors, he was obliged to go as far as Plymouth.

In my way, says he, I preached at Wellington, where one Mr. Darracott had been a blessed instrument of doing much good. At Exeter also, I revisited, where many souls were awakened to the divine life. At Biddeford, where good Mr. Hervey had been cu|rate, we had much of the power of God; and al|so at Kingsbridge. But the chief scene was at Plymouth and the dock, where I expected least suc|cess * 2.59.

It is remarkable, that just before his suc|cess at Plymouth, he was in danger of being killed. Four Gentleman, it seems, came to the house of one of his particular friends, kindly enquiring after him, and desiring to know where he lodged. Soon after|wards, Mr. Whitefield received a letter, informing him, that the writer was a nephew of Mr. S—, an Attorney at New-York; that he had the pleasure of supping with Mr. Whitefield at his uncle's house; and desired his company to sup with him, and a few more friends, at a tavern. Mr. Whitefield sent him word, that it was not customary for him to sup abroad at taverns, but should be glad of the Gentleman's

company to eat a morsel with him at his lodging: he accordingly came and supped; but was observed fre|quently to look around him, and to be very absent. At last he took his leave, and returned to his compa|nions in the tavern; and being by them interrogated, what he had done, he answered,

That he had been used so civilly, he had not the heart to touch him.

Upon which, it seems, another of the company, a Lieutenant of a man of war, laid a wager of ten gui|neas, that he would do his business for him. His com|panions, however, had the precaution to take away his sword. It was now about midnight, and Mr. Whitefield having that day preached to a large con|gregation, and visited the French prisoners, was gone to bed: when the landlady came and told him that a well-dressed gentleman desired to speak with him, Mr. Whitefield, imagining it was somebody under con|viction, desired him to be brought up. He came, and sat down by the bed side, congratulated him up|on the success of his ministry, and expressed much concern at being detained from hearing him. Soon after he broke out into the most abusive language, and in a cruel and cowardly manner, beat him in his bed. The landlady and her daughter hearing the noise, rushed into the room, and seized upon him; but he soon disengaged himself from them, and re|peated his blows on Mr. Whitefield, who being ap|prehensive that he intended to s••oot or stab him, un|derwent all the surprize of a sudden and violent death. Afterwards, a second came into the house, and cried out from the bottom of the stairs,

Take courage, I am ready to help you.

But by the repeated cry of Murder, the alarm was now so great, that they both made off.

The next morning, says, Mr. Whitefield * 2.60, I was to expound at a private house, and then to set out for Biddeford. Some urged me to stay and prosecute; but being better

employed, I went on my intended journey, was greatly blessed in preaching the everlasting go|spel, and upon my return was well paid for what I had suffered: curiosity having led perhaps two thousand more than ordinary, to see and hear a man that had like to have been murdered in his bed. And I trust in the five weeks time* 2.61, while I waited for the convoy, hundreds were awakened and turned unto the Lord. At the dock also, near Plymouth, a glorious work was begun. Could the fields between Plymouth and the Dock, speak, they would tell what blessed seasons were enjoyed there.

CHAP. XII. Trim his embarking for AMERICA in 1744, to his go|ing to the BERMUDAS, in the Year 1748.

AS soon as the convoy came* 2.62, Mr. Whitefield embarked in the beginning of August 1744, though in a poor state of health. The tediousness of the voyage, he imagined, occasioned no small addition to a violent pain in his side. However, he says,

Blessed be God, in a week or two after we sailed, we began to have a church in our ship. We had regular public prayer morning and evening, fre|quent communion, and days of humiliation and fasting.

After a passage of eleven weeks† 2.63, he arrived a York in New-England. Colonel Pepperell went with some friends in his own boat, to invite

him to his house. But he was not in a proper con|dition to accept the invitation, being so ill of a ner|vous cholic, that he was obliged, immediately after his arrival, to go to bed. His friends were very ap|prehensive; but he himself had much inward peace. Great care was taken of him by ••hysician who had been a notorious Deist, but was awakened, the last time he was in New-England. For some time he was, indeed, very weak:

Yet (he writes)* 2.64 in three weeks, I was enabled to preach: but, imprudent|ly going over the ferry to Portsmouth, I caught cold, immediately relapsed, and was taken, as eve|ry one thought, with death, in my dear friend Mr. Sherburne's house. What gave me most concern was, that notice had been given of my being to preach. Whilst the Doctor was preparing a me|dicine feeling my pains abated, I on a sudden cried, 'Doctor, my pains are suspended: by the help of God, I will go and preach, and then come home and die.' In my own apprehension, and in all appearance to others, I was a dying man. I preached. The people heard me as such. The invisible realities of another world lay open to my view. Expecting to stretch into eternity, and to be with my Master before the morning, I spoke with peculiar energy. Such effects followed the words, I thought it was worth dying for a thousand times. Though wonderfully comforted within, at my return home, I thought I was dying indeed. I was laid on a bed upon the ground, near the fire, and I heard my friends say, 'He is gone.' But God was pleased to order it otherwise. I gra|dually recovered; and soon after, a poor Negro-woman would see me. She came, sat down upon the ground, and looked earnestly in my face, and then said, in broken language;

Master, you just go to Heaven's gate. But Jesus Christ said, Get you

down, get you down, you must not come here yet; but go first, and call some more poor Negroes. I prayed to the Lord, that if I was to live, this might be the event.

In about three weeks I was enabled, though in great weakness, to reach Boston; and every day was more and more confirmed, in what I had heard about a glorious work, that had been begun and carried on there, and in almost all parts of New-England, for two years together. Before my last embarkation from Georgia, Mr. Colman, and Mr. Cooper, wrote me word, that upon Mr. Tenant's going out as an itinerant, the awakening greatly in|creased in various places* 2.65, till, at length, the work so advanced every where, that many thought the the latter-day glory was indeed come, and that a nation was to be born in a day. But as the same sun that enlightens and warms the earth, gives vent to noxious insects; so the same work, that for a while carried all before it, was sadly blemished through the subtility of satan † 2.66, and the want of more experience in Ministers and people, who had never seen such a scene before. Opposers, who waited for such an occasion, did all they could to aggravate every thing. One rode several hundred miles, to pick up all the accounts he could get of what was wrong, in what he called only, 'a re|ligious stir.' And God having been pleased to send me first, all was laid upon me. Testimonies signed by various Ministers came out against me ‡ 2.67 almost

every day, and the disorders were also at the high|est; so that for a while, my situation was rendered uncomfortable. But amidst all this smoke, a blessed fire broke out. The awakened souls were as eager as ever to hear the word. Having heard that I had expounded early in Scotland, they beg|ged I would do the same in Boston. I complied, and opened a lecture at six in the morning. I sel|dom preached to less than two thousand. It was delightful to see so many of both sexes, neatly dressed, flocking to hear the word, and returning home to family-prayer and breakfast, before the opposers were out of their beds. So that it was commonly said, That between early rising, and tar-water, the physicians would have no busi|ness.

A man of good parts, ready wit and lively ima|gination, who had made it his business, in order to furnish matter over a bottle, to come and hear, and then carry away scraps of my sermons: having one night got sufficient matter to work upon, as he thought, attempted to go out; but being pent in on every side, he found his endeavours fruitless. Obliged thus to stay, and looking up to me, waiting for some fresh matter for ridicule, God was pleased to prick him to the heart. He came to Mr. P. full of horror, confessed his crimes, and longed to ask my pardon * 2.68.

While some published testimonials against Mr. Whitefield, others published testimonials in his favour: as Mr. Hobby, Mr. Loring; Fifteen Ministers con|vened at Taunton, March 5, 1745. And the follow|ing paragraph is in Prince's Christian History, No. XCIV.

Saturday Nov. 24, 1744. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield was so far revived, as to be able to set out from Portsmouth to Boston, whither he came in a very feeble state the Monday evening after: since which,

he has been able to preach in several of our largest houses of public worship, particularly the Rev. Dr. Colman's, Dr. Sewall's, Mr. Webb's, and Mr. Gee's, to crowded assemblies of people, and with great and growing acceptance. At Dr. Colman's de|sire, and the consent of the church, on Lord's-day after his arrival, he administered to them the Holy Communion. And last Lord's-day he preached for Mr. Cheever of Chelsea, and administered the Holy Supper there. The next day preached for the Rev. Mr. Emerson of Malden. Yesterday he set out to preach at some towns to the northward, proposes to return hither the next Wednesday even|ing, and after a few days, to comply with the earnest invitations of several Ministers to go and preach to their congregations in the southern parts of the province. He comes with the same extra-ordinary spirit of meekness, sweetness, and univer|sal benevolence, as before. In opposition to the spi|rit of separation and bigotry, is still for holding com|munion with all protestant churches. In opposi|tion to enthusiasm, he preaches a close adherence to the Scriptures, the necessity of trying all impres|sions by them, and of rejecting whatever is not agree|able to them, as delusions. In opposition to An|tinomianism, he preaches up all kinds of relative and religious duties, though to be performed in the strength of Christ: and in short, the doctrines of the church of England, and of the first fathers of this country. As before, he first applies himself to the understandings of his hearers, and then to the affections. And the more he preaches, the more he convinces people of their mistakes about him, and increases their satisfaction.

It was now spring 1745, and at that time the first expedition was set on foot against Cape Breton. Co|lonel Pepperell, who was then at Boston, and con|stantly attended Mr. Whitefield's lecture, was pleas|ed,

the day before he accepted a commission, to be General in that expedition, to ask Mr. Whitefield's opinion of the matter. He told him, with his usual frankness,

That he did not, indeed, think the scheme proposed for taking Louisburgh, very promising: that the eyes of all would be upon him. It he did not succeed, the widows and or|phans of the slain soldiers, would be like lions robbed of their whelps; but if it pleased God to give him success, envy would endeavour to eclipse his glory; he had need, therefore, if he went, to go with a single eye; and then, there was no doubt, but if Providence really called him, he would find his strength proportioned to the day,

About the same time, Mr. Sherburne, another of Mr. White|field's friends, being appointed one of the commis|saries, told him,

He must favour the expedition, otherwise the serious people would be discouraged from enlisting; not only so, but insisted he should give him a motto for his flag, for the encourage|ment of the soldiers.

This he refused to do, as it would be acting out of character. But Mr. Sherburne would take no denial. He therefore, at last, gave them one, Nil desperandum Christo Duce.

If Christ be Captain, no fear of a defeat.

Upon which great numbers enlistened* 2.69. And before their em|barkation, the officers desired him to give them a sermon. This he readily complied with, and preach|ed from these words:

As many as were distressed, as many as were discontented, as many as were in debt, came to David, and he became a Captain over them.

He spiritualized the subject, and told them, How distressed sinners came to Jesus Christ, the son David; and in his application, exhorted the soldiers to behave like the soldiers of David, and the officers to act like David's worthies; then he made no manner of doubt, there would be good news from

Cape Breton. After this, he preached to the Gene|ral himself; who asked him, If he would not be one of his Chaplains? But he excused himself, and said,

He should think it an honour, but believed, as he generally preached three times a day, in various places, to large congregations, he could do more service by stirring up the people to pray, and thereby strengthening his, and his soldiers hands.

And in this practice he persisted during the siege of Louisburgh,

I believe, adds he* 2.70, if ever people went with a disinterested view, the New-Englan|ders did then. Though many of them were raw and undisciplined, yet numbers were substantial persons who left their farms, and willingly ventur|ed all for their country's good. An amazing scene of Providence appeared† 2.71, and though some discouraging accounts were sent during the latter end of the siege; yet in about six weeks, news was brought of the surrender of Louisburgh. Num|bers flocked from all quarters, to hear a thanksgiv|ing sermon upon the occasion. And I trust the blessing bestowed on the country, through the thanksgiving of many, redounded to the glory of God.

The New-England people had, some time ago, of|fered to build him a large house to preach in; but as this scheme might have abridged his liberty of itine|rating, he thanked them for their kind offer, and at the same time begged leave to refuse the accepting of it‡ 2.72. As his bodily strength increased, and his health grew better, he began to move farther southward; and, after preaching eastward, as far as Cascobay and North Yarmouth, he went through Connecticut, Plymouth, Rhode-Island, preaching to

thousands, generally twice a day. "And though," says he * 2.73,

there was much smoke, yet every day I had more and more convincing proof, that a blessed Gospel fire had been kindled in the hearts both of Ministers and people. At New-York, where I preached as usual, I found that the seed sown, had sprung up abundantly: and at the east-end of Long-Island saw many instances. In my way to Philadelphia, I had the pleasure of preach|ing, by an interpreter, to some converted Indians, and of seeing near fifty young ones in one school, near Free-hold, learning the Assembly's Catechism. A blessed awakening had been begun, and carried on among the Delaware Indians, by the instrumen|tality of Mr. David Brainard† 2.74, such a one as hath not been heard of since the awakening in New-England by the venerable Mr. Elliot, who used to be stiled the Apostle of the Indians; his brothe•• ••ol|lowed him. Mr. William Tennent, whose part••▪ I found much upon the advance, seemed to en|courage their endeavours with all his heart.

His brother, Mr. Gilbert Tennent, being ear|nestly solicited thereto, I found settled in the place formerly erected at the beginning of the awaken|ing. The Gentlemen offered me eight hundred pounds a year, only to preach among them six months, and to travel the other six months where I would. Nothing remarkable happened, during my way southward. But when I came to Virgi|nia, I found that the word of the Lord had run and was glorified. During my preaching at Gl••s|gow, some persons wrote some of my extempore sermons, and printed them almost as fast as I preached them. Some of these were carried to Virginia, and one of them fell into the hands of

Samuel Morris. He read and found benefit* 2.75. He then read them to others; they were awaken|ed and convinced. A fire was kindled; opposi|tion was made; other labourers were sent for; and many, both white people and negroes, were converted to the Lord.

In North Carolina, where I stayed too short a time, little was done. At Georgia, through the badness of the institution, and the Trustees obsti|nacy in not altering it, my load of debt and care was greatly increased, and at times almost overwhelmed me. But I had the pleasure of seeing one, who came as a player from New-York, now converted unto God, and a preacher of Jesus Christ. One Mr. Ratteray brought me ten pounds: and at my return northward, fresh supplies were raised up. The generous Charlestown people raised a subscription of three hundred pounds, with which I bought land, being cheap, during the war; and a plantation, and a few negroes were purchased at Indian-Land. Thus, for a while, the gap was stopped. I preached a sermon upon the rebellion. Was very sick at Philadelphia; kindly received at Bohemia, and at New-York.

As itinerating was my delight, and America, as being a new world, particularly pleasing, I now began to think of returning no more to my native country. But travelling, care, and a load of debt, contracted not for myself, but the Or|phan-house, weighed me down. And being much troubled with stitches in my side, I was advised to go to Bermudas, for the recovery of my health.

In his Letters during this period, are the follow|ing passages:

August 26, 1746. The door, for my useful|ness, opens wider and wider. I love to range in the American woods, and sometimes think I shall never return to England any more.

October 8. I have had some sweet times with several of the Lutheran Ministers at Philadel|phia.

November 8. I have lately been in seven coun|ties in Maryland, and preached to great congrega|tions.

May 21, 1747. 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, or this poor carcase can hold out no more. The south|ern colonies lie in darkness, and yet, as far as I find, are as willing to receive the Gospel, as others. If some good books could be purchased, to dis|pose among poor people, much good might be done.

June 1. The congregations yesterday were exceeding large. I am sick and well, as I used to be in England: but the Redeemer fills me with comfort. I am determined, in his strength, to die fighting.

June 4. I have omitted preaching one night to oblige my friends, 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.

June 23. Since my last, I have been several times on the verge of eternity. At present, I am so weak that I cannot preach. It is hard work to be silent, but I must be tried every way.

June 29. God has been pleased to bring my body to the very brink of the grave, by convulsi|ons, gravel, a nervous cholic, and a violent fever.

For this week past, I have not preached: but since my leaving Philadelphia, about three days ago, I seemed to have gathered strength, and hope once more, to-morrow, to proclaim amongst poor sinners, the unsearchable riches of Jesus Christ. I purpose to go to Boston, and return by land, so as to reach Charlestown by November.

July 4. At present, I am very weakly, and scarce able to preach above once or twice a week.

September 11. We saw great things in New-England. The flocking and power that attend|ed the word, was like unto that seven years ago. Weak as I was, and have been, I was enabled to travel eleven hundred miles, and preach daily. I am now going to Georgia to winter.

He embarked, and landed at Bermudas the 15th of March, 1748.

CHAP. XIII. From his Arrival at BERMUDAS to his Return to LONDON in July, 1748.

MR. Whitefield met with the kindest reception at Bermudas, and for above a month, he preached generally twice a day, traversing the Island from one end to the other: but his activity, usefulness, and treatment, will best appear by an extract from his manuscript journal of that period.

The simplicity and plainness of the people, to|gether with the pleasant situation of the island, much delighted me.—The Rev. Mr. Holiday, Minister of Spanish-Point, received me in a most affectionate christian manner, and begged I would make his house my home.—In the evening, I ex|pounded at the house of Mr. Savage of Port-Roy|al, which was very commodious, and which also he would have me make my home.—I went with Mr. Savage, in a boat, lent us by Captain —, to the town of St. George, in order to pay our respects to the Governor. All along we had a most pleasant prospect of the other part of the is|land; but a more pleasant one I never saw. One Mrs. Smith, of St. George's, for whom I had a letter of recommendation from my dear old friend Mr. Smith of Charlestown, received me into her house. About noon, with one of the council and Mr. Savage, I waited upon the Governor. He received us courteously, and invited us to dine with him and the Council at the tavern. We accepted the invitation, and all behaved with great ••civility and respect. After the Governor rose

from table, he desired, if I stayed in town on the Sunday, that I would dine with him at his own house.

Sunday, March 20. Read prayers, and preached twice this day, to what were esteemed here large auditories, in the morning at Spanish-Point church, and in the evening at Brackish-pond church, about two miles distant from each other. In the after|noon I spoke with greater freedom than in the morning, and I trust not altogether in vain. All were attentive—some wept. I dined with Colo|nel Butterfield, one of the council, and received several invitations to other Gentlemen's houses.— May God bless and reward them, and incline them to open their heart to receive the Lord Jesus! Amen and Amen!

Wednesday, March 23. Dined with Captain Gibbs, and went from thence and expounded at the house of Captain F—le, at Hunbay, about two miles distant. The company was here also large, attentive, and affected. Our Lord gave me utterance: I expounded on the first part of the viiith chapter of Jeremiah. After lecture, Mr. Riddle, a Counsellor, invited me to his house, as did Mr. Paul, an aged Presbyterian Minister, to his pulpit; which I complied with upon con|dition the report was true, that the Governor had served the Ministers with an injunction that I should not preach in the churches.

Friday March 25. Was prevented preaching yesterday by the rain, which continued from morn|ing till night; but this afternoon God gave me an|other opportunity of declaring his eternal truths to a large company at the house of one Mr. B—s, who last night sent me a letter of invi|tation.

Sunday, March 27. Glory be to God! I hope•• this has been a profitable Sabbath to many soul••▪

It has been a pleasant one to mine. Both morn|ing and afternoon I preached to a large auditory, for Bermudas, in Mr. Paul's meeting-house, which I suppose contains above four hundred. Abun|dance of negroes, and many others, were in the vestry, porch, and about the house. The word seemed to be clothed with a convincing power, and to make its way into the hearts of the hearers. Between sermons, I was entertained very civilly in a neighbouring-house: Judge Bascome and three more of the Council came thither; each gave me an invitation to his house.—O how does the Lord make way for a poor stranger in a strange land!— After the second sermon, I dined with Mr. Paul, and in the evening expounded to a very large com|pany at Counsellor Riddle's.—My body was some|what weak, but the Lord carried me through, and caused me to go to rest rejoicing. May I thus go to my grave, when my ceaseless uninterrupted rest shall begin!

Monday, March 28. Dined this day at Mrs. D—l's, mother-in-law to my dear friend the Rev. Mr. Smith; and afterwards preached to more than a large house full of people, on Matt. ix.12. 'They that be whole need not a Physician, but they that are sick.' Towards the conclusion of the sermon, the hearers began to be more affected than I have yet seen them.—Surely the Lord Jesus will give me some seals in this island! Grant this, O Redeemer, for thy infinite mercy's sake!

Thursday, March 31. Dined on Tuesday at Colonel Corbusiers; and on Wednesday, at Colo|nel Gilbert's, both of the Council, and found, by what I could hear, that some good had been d•••• and many prejudices removed.—Who shall hinder•• if God will work? Went to an island this after|noon, called Ireland, upon which live a few fami|lies, and to my surprize, found a great many

Gentlemen and other people, with my friend Mr. Holiday, who came from different quarters to hear me.—Before I began preaching, I went round to see a most remarkable cave, which very much dis|played the exquisite workmanship of Him, 'who in his strength setteth fast the mountains, and is girded about with power.' Whilst I was in the cave, quite unexpectedly I turned and saw Coun|sellor Riddle, who with his son came to hear me, and whilst we were in the boat told me, that he had been with the Governor, who declared he had no personal prejudice against me, and wondered I did not come to town and preach there, for it was the desire of the people; and that any house in the town, the Court-house, not excepted, should be at my service. Thanks be to God for so much favour!—If his cause requires it, I shall have more.—He knows my heart; I value the favour of man no farther than as its makes room for the Gospel, and gives me a large scope to promote the glory of God. There being no capacious house upon the island, I preached for the first time here in the open air. All heard very attentive, and it was very pleasant after sermon to see so many boats full of people returning from the wor|ship of God. I talked seriously to some in our own boat, and began to sing a psalm, in which they readily joined.

Sunday, April 3. Preached twice this day at Mr. Paul's meeting-house, as on the last Sabbath, but with greater freedom and power, especially in the morning, and I think to as great, if not greater auditories: Dined with Colonel H—vy, another of the Council; visited a sick woman, where many came to hear, and expounded after|wards to a great company at Capt. John Darrel's, Mrs. D—l's son, who with his wife courteously entertained me, and desired me to make his house

my home.—So true is that promise of our Lord's, 'That whosoever leaves father or mother, houses or lands, shall have in this life a hundred-fold with persecution, and in the world to come life everlasting.

Lord, I have experienced the one; in thy good time, grant that I may experience the other also!

Wednesday, April 6. Preached yesterday at the house of Mr. Anthony Smith, of Baylis Bay, with a considerable degree of warmth, and rode after|wards to St. George's, the only town on the island. The gentlemen of the town had sent mean invi|tation by Judge Bascome, and he with several others came to visit me at my lodgings, and inform|ed me, that the Governor desired to see me.— About ten I waited upon his Excellency, who re|ceived me with great civility, and told me he had no objection against my person or my principles, having never yet heard me, and he knew nothing in respect to my conduct in moral life, that might prejudice him against me; but his instructions were, to let none preach in the island, unless he had a written licence to preach somewhere in Ame|rica or the West-Indies: at the same time he ac|knowledged it was but a matter of mere form. I informed his Excellency, that I had been regular|ly inducted to the parish of Savannah; that I was ordained priest by letters dismissory from my Lord of London, and under no church censure from his Lordship; and would always read the church prayers, if the clergy would give me the use of their churches. I added farther, that a Minister's pulpit was looked upon as his freehold, and that I knew one clergyman who had denied his own Dio|cesan the use of his pulpit. But I told his Ex|cellency, I was satisfied with the liberty he allow|ed me, and would not act contrary to his injunc|tion. I then begged leave to be dismissed, because I was to preach at eleven o'clock. His Excellen|cy

said, he intended to do himself the pleasure to hear me. At eleven the church-bell rung, the church bible, prayer book, and cushion were sent to the town-house. The Governor, several of the council, the Minister of the parish, and assembly-men▪ with a great number of the town's people, as|sembled in great order. I was very sick, through a cold I catched last night▪ but I read the church prayers, (the first lesson was the xvth of the first book of Samuel) and preached on those words, 'Righteousness exalteth a nation.' Being weak and faint, and having much of the head-ach, I did not do that justice to my subject, as I sometimes am enabled to do; but the Lord so helped me, that, as I found afterwards, the Governor and the other gentlemen expressed their approbation, and ac|knowledged they did not expect to be so well en|tertained.—Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thy free grace be all the glory!

After sermon, Dr. F—bs, and Mr. P—t, the Collector, came to me, and desired me to fa|vour them, and the gentlemen of the town with my company to dine with them. I accepted the invitation. The Governor and the President and Judge Bascome were there. All wondered at my speaking so freely and fluently without notes. The Governor asked me whether I used minutes. I answered, No. He said it was a great gift. At table his Excellency introduced something of reli|gion, by asking me the meaning of the word Hades. Several other things were started about free-will, Adam's fall, predestination, &c. to all which God enabled me to answer so pertinently, and taught me to mix the utile and dulce so together, that all at table seemed highly pleased, shook me by the hand, and invited me to their respective houses. The Governor, in particular, asked me to dine with him on the morrow, and Dr. F—b, one

of his particular intimates, invited me to drink tea in the afternoon. I thanked all, returned proper respects, and went to my lodgings with some de|gree of thankfulness for the assistance vouchsafed me, and abased before God at the consideration of my unspeakable unworthiness. In the after|noon, about five o'clock, I expounded the parable of the Prodigal Son, to many people at a private house, and in the evening had liberty to speak freely and closely to those that supped with me.— O that this may be the beginning of good gospel times to the inhabitants of this town! Lord, teach me to deal prudently with them, and cause them to melt under thy word!

Friday, April 8. Preached yesterday with great clearness and freedom, to about fourscore people at a house on David's island, over against St. George's town; went and lay at Mr. Holiday's, who came in a boat to fetch me; and this day I heard him preach and read prayers, after which I took the sacrament from him. Honest man, he would have had me administer and officiate; but I chose not to do it, lest I should bring him into trouble after my departure. However, in the afternoon, I preach|ed at one Mr. Tod's, in the same parish, to a very large company indeed. The Lord was with me. My heart was warm, and what went from the heart, I trust went to the heart, for many were affected. —O that they may be converted also! Then will it be a good Friday indeed to their souls.

Sunday, April 10. Dined and conversed yester|day very agreeably with Judge Bascome; who seems to have the greatest insight into the differ|ence between the Arminian and Calvinistical scheme of any one I have yet met with upon the island. In the afternoon, I visited a sick paralytic, and this day I preached twice again at Mr. Paul's meeting-house. The congregations were rather

larger than ever, and the power of God seemed to be more amongst them. I think I see a visible alte|ration for the better every Lord's day. Blessed be God! In the evening I expounded at Mr. Jo|seph Dorrell's, (where I dined) to a very large com|pany; then went to his kinsman's, my usual lod|ging on Saturday and Sunday evenings, who with his wife and other friends, seemed kinder and kinder daily.—Good measure, pressed down and running over, may the Lord, both as to spirituals and temporals, return into all their bosoms!

Saturday, April 16. Preached since Lord's day at five different houses, to concerned and affected congregations, at different parts of the island, but was more indisposed one night after going to bed, than I had been for some time. On two of the days of this week, I dined with the President and Captain Spafford, one of the council, both which entertained me with the utmost civility.

Sunday 17. Still God magnifies his power and goodness more and more. This morning we had a pleasing sight at Mr. Paul's meeting-house. I began to preach, and the people to hear and be af|fected as in days of old at home. Indeed the pro|spect is encouraging. Praise the Lord, O my soul! After preaching twice to large congrega|tions in the meeting-house, I at the desire of the parents, preached in the evening a sermon at the funeral of a little boy about five years of age. A great number of people attended, and the Lord enabled me so to speak as to affect many of the hearers. Blessed be the Lord for this day's work! —Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thy free grace be all the glory!

Sunday, April 24. The last week being rainy, I preached only five times in private houses, and this day but once in the meeting-house; but I hope neither time without effect. This evening

expounded at Counsellor Riddle's, who with the other gentlemen, treats me with greater respect every day. Colonel Gilbert, one of the council, has lent me his horse during my stay, and Mr. D—ll this morning informed me of a design the gentlemen had, to raise a contribution to help me to discharge my arrears, and support my orphan family.—Thanks be given to thy name, O God! Thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I want to owe no man any thing, but love and pro|vide for Bethesda after my decease. Thou hast promised thou wilt fulfil the desires of them that fear thee. I believe, Lord, help my unbelief, that thou wilt fulfil this desire of my soul. Even so, Amen!

Saturday, April 30. Preached since Lord's day, two funeral sermons, and at five different houses in different parts of the island to still larger and larger auditories, and perceived the people to be affected more and more. Twice or thrice I preached without doors. Riding in the sun, and preaching very earnestly, a little fatigued me; so that this evening I was obliged to lie down for some time.— Faint, yet pursuing; must be my motto still.

Sunday, May 1. This morning was a little sick; but I trust God gave us a happy beginning of the new month. I preached twice with power, espe|cially in the morning, to a very great congrega|tion in the meeting-house; and in the evening, having given previous notice, I preached about four miles distant, in the fields, to a large compa|ny of negroes, and a number of white people who came to hear what I had to say to them. I be|lieve, in all, there were near fifteen hundred peo|ple. As the sermon was intended for the negroes, I gave the auditory warning, that my discourse would be chiefly directed to them, and that I should endeavour to imitate the example of Elijah,

who when he was about to raise the child, con|tracted himself to its length. The negroes seemed very sensible and attentive. When I asked them, whether all of them did not desire to go to heaven, one of them with a very audible voice said, 'Yes, Sir.' This caused a little smiling; but in general, every thing was carried on with great decency; and I believe the Lord enabled me so to discourse, as to touch the negroes, and yet not to give them the least umbrage to slight or behave imperiously to their masters. If ever a Minister in preaching, need the wisdom of the serpent to be joined with the harmlessness of the dove, it must be when dis|coursing to negroes.—Vouchsafe me this favour, O God, for thy dear Son's sake!

Monday, May 2. Upon enquiry, I found that some of the negroes did not like my preaching, because I told them of their cursing, swearing, thieving, and lying. One or two of the worst of them, as I was informed, went away. Some said, they would not go any more: They liked Mr. M—r better, for he never told them of these things; and I said, their hearts were as black as their faces. They expected, they said, to hear me speak against their masters. Blessed be God, that I was directed not to say any thing, this first time, to the masters at all, though my text led me to it. It might have been of bad consequence, to tell them their duty, or charge them too roundly with the neglect of it, before their slaves. They would mind all I said to their masters, and, per|haps nothing that I said to them. Every thing is beautiful in its season. Lord, teach me always that due season, wherever I am called, to give ei|ther black or white, a portion of thy word! How|ever, others of the poor creatures, I hear, were very thankful, and came home to their master's houses, saying, that they would strive to sin no

more. Poor hearts! These different accounts af|fected me; and upon the whole, I could not help rejoicing, to find that their consciences were so far awake.

Saturday, May 7. In my conversation these two days, with some of my friends, I was diverted much, in hearing several things that passed among the poor negroes, since my preaching to them last Sunday. One of the women, it seems, said, 'That if the book I preached out of was the best book that was ever bought at, and came out of London, she was sure it had never all that in it, which I spoke to the negroes.' The old man, who spoke out loud last Sunday, and said 'Yes,' when I asked them, Whether all the negroes would not go to heaven? Being questioned by somebody, Why he spoke out so? Answered, 'That the gentleman put the question once or twice to them, and the other fools had not the manners to make me any answer, till, at last, I seemed to point at him, and he was ashamed that no body should an|swer me, and therefore he did.' Another, won|dering why I said, 'Negroes had black hearts;' was answered by his black brother thus: 'Ah, thou fool, dost thou not understand it? He means black with sin.' Two more girls were overheard by their mistress, talking about religion, and they said, 'They knew, if they did not repent, they must be damned.' From all which I infer, that these Bermudas negroes are more knowing than I supposed; that their consciences are awake, and consequently prepared, in a good measure, for hearing the Gospel preached unto them.

Sunday, May 8. This also, I trust, has been a good Sabbath. In the morning I was helped to preach powerfully to a melting, and rather a larger congregation than ever, in Mr. Paul's meeting-house; and in the evening, to almost as large a

congregation of black and white as last Sunday, in the fields, near my hearty friend Mr. Holiday's house. To see so many black faces was affecting. They heard very attentively, and some of them now began to weep.—May God grant them a godly sorrow, that worketh repentance not to be repented of!

Friday, May 13. This afternoon preached over the corpse of Mr. Paul's eldest son, about twenty-four years of age; and by all I could hear and judge of by conversing with him, he did, indeed, die in the Lord. I visited him twice last Lord's day, and was quite satisfied with what he said, though he had not much of the sensible presence of God. I find he was a preacher upon his death-bed. For he exhorted all his companions to love Christ in sincerity, and blessed his brother and sister, and, I think, his father and mother, just before his depar|ture. A great many people attended the funeral. I preached on Luke vii. 13. 'And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, weep not.' Many were affected in the application of my discourse, and, I trust, some will be induced, by this young man's good example, to remember their Redeemer in the days of their youth.—Grant it, O Lord, for thy dear Son's sake!

Sunday, May 15. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within thee praise his holy name! This morning I preached my farewel sermon at Mr. Paul's meeting-house, it was quite full, and, as the President said, above a hundred and fifty whites, besides blacks, were round the house. At|tention sat on every face; and when I came to take my leave, oh, what a sweet unaffected weep|ing was there to be seen every where. I believe there were few dry eyes. The negroes likewise without doors, I heard wept plentifully. My own

heart was affected, and though I have parted from friends so often, yet I find every fresh parting al|most unman's me, and very much affects my heart. Surely, a great work is begun in some souls at Bermudas.—Carry it on, O Lord! and if it be thy will, send me to this dear people again. Even so, Lord Jesus. Amen!

After sermon, I dined with three of the Council and other gentlemen and ladies, at Captain Bas|come's; and from thence we went to a funeral, at which Mr. M—r preached; and after that I expounded on our Lord's Transfiguration, at the house of one Mrs. Harvey, sister to dear Mr. Smith of Charlestown. The house was exceeding full, and it was supposed above three hundred stood in the yard. The Lord enabled me to lift my voice like a trumpet. Many wept. Mr. M—r returned from the funeral with me, and attended the lecture, as did the three Counsellors, with whom I conversed very freely.—May God reward them, and all the dear people of the island, for those many and great favours they have con|ferred on me, who am the chief of sinners, and less than the least of all saints!

Sunday, May 22. Blessed be God! the little leaven throw•• 〈…〉〈…〉 measures of meal be|gins to serm•• 〈…〉〈…〉 almost every day, for the we••k p•• 〈…〉〈…〉 with souls loaded with a sens•• of their sins, and, as far as I can judge, really pricked to the heart. I preached only three times, but to almost three times larger audi|tories than usual. Indeed the fields are white, ready unto harvest. God has been pleased to bless private visits. Go where I will, upon the least notice, houses are crowded, and the poor souls that follow are soon drenched in tears. This day I took, as it were, another farewel. As the ship did not sail, I preached at Somerset in the morning, to a

large congregation in the fields, and expounded in the evening to a large one at Mr. Harvey's house, round which stood many hundreds of people. But in the morning and evening how did the poor souls weep. The Lord seemed to be with me in a peculiar manner, and though I was ready to die with heat and straining, yet I was enabled to speak louder, and with greater power, I think, than I have been before. Gifts and grace, especially in the evening, were both in exercise. After the service, when I lay down on the bed to rest, many came weeping bitterly around me, and took their last farewel. Though my body was very weak, yet my soul was full of comfort. It magnified the Lord, and my spirit rejoiced in God my Sa|viour. Abundance of prayers and blessings were put up for my safe passage to England, and spee|dy return to Bermudas again. May they enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth! For God willing, I intend visiting this dear people once more. In the mean while, with all humility and thankfulness of heart will I here, O Lord, set up my Ebenezer. For hitherto surely thou hast help|ed me! I cannot help thinking that I was led to this island by a peculiar Providence. My dear friend, Mr. Smith of Charlestown, has been made especially instrumental thereto. Thanks be to the Lord for sending me hither. I have been receiv|ed in a manner I dared not expect, and have met with little, very little opposition indeed. The in|habitants seem to be plain and open hearted. They have also been open handed. For they have load|ed me with provisions for my sea-store; and in the several parishes, by a private voluntary contribu|tion, have raised me upwards of a hundred pounds sterling. This will pay a little of Bethesda's debt, and enable me to make such remittance to my dear yoke-fellow, as may keep her from being em|barrassed,

or too much beholden in my absence. Blessed be God for bringing me out of my em|barrassments by degrees! May the Lord reward all my benefactors a thousand fold! I hear that what was given, was given exceeding heartily, and people only lamented that they could do no more.

After having transmitted to Georgia, what was given to him for the Orphan-house, and dreading to go back to America in that season of heat, for fear of relapsing, and having pressing calls to England, he took the opportunity of a brig, and in twenty-eight days arrived at Deal. During this voyage, among other letters, he wrote the following:

June 24, 1748. (on board.) Yesterday I made an end of revising all my journals. Alas! alas! in how many things have I judged and ac|ted wrong. I have been too rash and hasty in giv|ing characters both of places and persons. Being fond of Scripture language, I have often used a stile too apostolical, and at the same time, I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wild fire has been mixt with it, and I find that I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assistance of the Spi|rit of God. I have likewise too much made in|ward impressions my rule of acting, and too soon and too explicitly published what had been better kept in longer, or told after my death. By these things, I have hurt the blessed cause I would de|fend, and also stirred up needless opposition. This has humbled me much, and made me think of a saying of Mr. Henry's, 'Joseph had more honesty than he had policy, or he never would have told his dreams.' At the same time, I cannot but praise 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 con|tempt,

and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless him for ripening my judg|ment a little more, for giving me to see and con|fess, and I hope, in some degree, to correct and amend some of my mistakes.

At this time also he finished his Abridgement of Mr. Low's Serious Call;

which he endeavoured to make more useful, by excluding whatever is not truly evangelical, and illustrating the subject more ful|ly from the Holy Scriptures * 2.76.

He reached London, July 6, 1748, after an ab|sence of near four years.

CHAP. XIV. From his Arrival in LONDON 1748, to his going to IRELAND in the Year 1751.

ON Mr. Whitefield's visiting a few of his friends, immediately after his return, he found himself in no very agreeable situation. His congregation at the Tabernacle was sadly scattered. And as to his outward circumstances,he had sold all his houshold fur|niture, to help to pay the Orphan-house debt, which yet was far from being cancelled. But under all these discouragements, he was still supported. His congregation was soon re-united, and received him with the greatest joy. And at this time a very un|expected thing happened to him. Lady Huntingdon, before his arrival, had ordered Mr. Howel Harris to bring him to her house at Chelsea, as soon as he came ashore. He went, and having preached twice, the Countess wrote to him, that several of the Nobility desired to hear him. In a few days the Earl of Chesterfield, and a whole circle of them attended, and having heard once, desired they might hear him again.

I therefore preached again (says he) in the evening, and went home, never more surpriz|ed at any incident in my life * 2.77. All behaved quite well, and were in some degree affected, the Earl of Chesterfield thanked me, and said, 'Sir, I will not tell you what I shall tell others how I approv|ed of you;' or words to this purpose. At last, Lord Bolingbroke came to hear, sat like an Arch|bishop, and was pleased to say, 'I had done great

justice to the divine attributes in my discourse * 2.78. Soon afterwards her Ladyship removed to town, where I preached generally twice a week to very brilliant auditories. Blessed be God, not without effectual success on some.

In September 1748, he made a third visit to Scot|land, where he met with a hearty welcome. Great multitudes flocked to hear him both at Edinburgh and Glasgow.

I have reason (says he, Letter DCC) to believe some have been awakened, and many quickened and comforted. My old friends are more solidly so than ever, and a foundation, I trust has been laid for doing much good, if ever the Lord should call thither again. Two Synods, and one Presbytery, brought me upon the carpet; but all has worked for good.

He means the Synods of Glasgow and Perth, and the Presbytery of Edinburgh. What happened in the Synod of Glasgow may be seen in a Pamphlet, entitled,

A fair and impartial Account of the Debate in the Synod of Glasgow and Air, 6 October, 1748, anent employing Mr. Whitefield:

published at Edinburgh the same year, and supposed to be written by the Rev. Dr. Erskine, who was then Minister at Kirkintilloch. The short history of the matter is this. A motion was made, tending to prohibit or dis|courage Ministers from employing Mr. Whitefield. The speeches made in support of the motion, were upon the following topics. His being a priest of the church of England. That he had not subcribed the Formula. His imprudencies. Chimerical scheme of the Orphan-house. Want of Evidence, that the money he collects is rightly applied. Asserting that

assurance is essential to faith. Encouraging a depen|dance on impulses and immediate revelations. De|claring on slender evidence, some people converted, and others carnal and unregenerated. Often, indeed, pretending to repent of his blunders, and retract; but as often relapsing into them. And lastly, his being under a sentence of suspension by Commissary Garden, from which he had appealed to the High Court of Chancery, and made oath to prosecute that appeal in a twelve month; and yet it was never prosecut|ed.

On the other hand, the Ministers who were against the motion, spoke in this manner. I blush to think, said one, that any of our brethren should befriend a proposal, so contrary to that moderation and catholic spirit, which now is, and I hope ever shall be the glory of our church. I am sensible, many things in the Church of England need reformation; but I ho|nour her, notwithstanding, as our sister church. If Bishop Butler, Bishop Sherlock, or Bishop Secker were in Scotland, I should welcome them to my pul|pit. In this I should imitate Mr. Samuel Rutherford, as firm a Presbyterian as any of us, who yet employed Bishop Usher. There is no law of Christ, no Act of Assembly prohibiting me to give my pulpit to an Episcopal, Independent, or Anabaptist Ministers, if of found principles in the fundamentals of Religion, and of a sober life. Our Church expressly enjoins, Act XIII. April 1711, that great tenderness is to be used to foreign Protestants. The requiring strangers to subscribe our Formula, before they preach with us, would lay as effectual a bar against employing those of congregational principles, or Presbyterian Non-subscribers, as those of the Church of England.

As to Mr. Whitefield, said another, there are few Ministers whose character has been so well attested, by the most competent judges, both at home and abroad. One thing I cannot but observe: those who

have spoken most warmly against Mr. Whitefield in this debate, acknowledge they have made little or no enquiry into his character: whereas those on the other side, have made a very careful enquiry; and that enquiry has turned out entirely to their satisfac|tion. With regard to his imprudencies, there is a great difference betwixt blunders owing to a bad heart, and those that are owing only to a misinformed judg|ment; especially, when the mistakes that occasioned them, have misled several great and good men. Whether Mr. Whitefield's scheme of the Orphan-house be prudent or not, it is demonstrable it was ho|nestly meant. The Magistrates of Savannah publish|ed three years ago, in the Philadelphia Gazette, an affidavit that they had carefully examined Mr. White|field's receipts and disbursements, and found that what he had collected in behalf of the Orphans, had been honestly applied; and that besides, he had given considerably to them of his own property. As to his maintaining, that assurance is essential to faith; encouraging an unwarrantable regard to impressions; and being too hasty in pronouncing men carnal or converted; his sentiments in these particulars, have been altered for upwards of two years. And now he scarce preaches a sermon, without guarding his hearers against relying on impressions, and telling them that faith, and a persuasion we are justified, are very dif|ferent things, and that a holy life is the best evidence of a gracious state. These retractions are owing to a real change of sentiment. Letters from correspon|dents in New-England shew, that this change is, at least, of two years date, and that ever since it happen|ed he has preached and acted with remarkable cau|tion. Lastly, with respect to the prosecution of his appeal; Mr. Whitefield exerted himself to the utmost to get his appeal heard, but could not prevail on the Lords Commissioners so much as once to meet on the affair; they, no doubt, thinking of Mr. Garden's ar|bitrary

proceedings with the contempt they deserved.

But say some, Mr. Whitefield being under a suspension not yet reversed, is now no Minister.

But for what was he suspended? Why, for no other crime, than omitting to use the form of prayer pre|scribed in the communion book, when officiating in a Presbyterian congregation. And shall a meeting of Presbyterian Ministers, pay any regard to a sentence which had such a foundation?

The issue of the debate was a rejecting of the mo|tion by a vote, 27 to 13; and a resolution which was so exprest as to be a decent burial of it; laying no new restriction on Ministers from inviting strangers, but leaving things precisely as they were before. And they who chose to give Mr. Whitefield their pulpits, never after met with any molestation. Upon the whole, the attacks made on Mr. Whitefield's character, prov|ed the occasion of informing the Synod of the fals|hood of many aspersions thrown out against him, of the great increase of his prudence and caution, and the remarkable change of his sentiments and behavi|our, so far as either were offensive. And thus what was intended for his reproach, turned out to his ho|nour.

While he was in Scotland, he endeavoured to do all the service he could to the New-Jersey College, and in conjunction with some Ministers who wished well to that institution * 2.79, advised the sending over a Minister from America to make application in per|son. Which was afterwards done in the year 1754, when Mr. Tennent and Mr. Davies applied to the General Assembly, and obtained an appointment of a general collection. He also began to think of mak|ing his Orphan-house not only a receptacle for father|less children, but also a place of literature and aca|demical

studies. Such a place, he thought, was much wanted in the southern parts of America; and if conducted in a proper manner, would be of great service to the colony. He therefore, after his return to England, wrote to the Trustees, signifying that this was his intention, if they would be pleased to put the colony upon another footing, and allow a li|mitted use of negroes, without which he had long been of opinion, that Georgia never could be a flou|rishing province* 2.80. Mean time, he went on his usual way, and with his usual success at London, Bristol, and Gloucester, during the winter. And in February 1749, made an excursion to Exeter and Plymouth, where he found a strange alteration in the people, since he had been first there, about five years before; they now received him with the greatest joy, and were importunate to hear him; and many of them gave proofs of a solid conversion to God † 2.81.

Now (says he) Plymouth seems to be quite a new place to me.

As his health was impaired in London, he loved to range (as he calls it) after precious souls. Though he never wanted to make a sect, or to set him|self at the head of a party.

I have seen enough of popularity, (says he) to be sick of it; and did not the interest of my blessed Master require my appearing in‡ 2.82 public, the world should hear but little of me henceforward.

Yet he could not think of remitting his diligence in the work of the Gospel.

I dread the thoughts of flagging in the latter stages of my road, is an ex|pression that he often uses in writing to his friends § 2.83.

He was frequently very ill; but he imagined preach|ing and travelling did him service.

Fear not your

weak body, (says he, in a letter to Mr. Hervey * 2.84; we are immortal till our work is done. Christ's labourers must live by miracle; if not, I must not live at all; for God only knows what I daily en|dure. My continual vomitings almost kill me, and yet the pulpit is my cure, so that my friends begin to pity me less, and to leave off that ungrate|ful caution, 'Spare thyself.' I speak this to en|courage you.

About this time, he wrote Remarks an a pamph|let, entitled, The Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared.

Wherein (with a candour ve|ry uncommon in controversial writings) he says,

Several mistakes in some parts of my past writings and conduct are acknowledged, and my present sentiments concerning the Methodists explained.† 2.85

In March 1749, he returned to London from an excursion of about six hundred miles in the west, where he had the pleasure of seeing that his former visits had been blessed with abundant success‡ 2.86. In May he went to Portsmouth, and preached every day for more than a week, to very large and attentive audi|tories. Many were brought under convictions, pre|judices seemed to be universally removed, and people, that a few days before were speaking all manner of evil against him, were very desirous of his longer stay to preach the Gospel § 2.87 among them.

June 24. He writes from Bristol:

Yesterday God brought me here, after having carried me a circuit of about eight hundred miles, and enabled me to preach, I suppose, to upwards of a hundred thousand souls. I have been in eight Welch coun|ties, and, I think, we have not had one dry meet|ing. The work in Wales is much upon the ad|vance, and likely to increase daily. Had my dear

Hervey been there, to have seen the simplicity of so many dear souls, I am persuaded he would have said, Sit anima mea cum Methodistis* 2.88.

In the months of July and August he was at Lon|don, Bristol, Plymouth, Biddiford, Exeter. When he returned to London, he had the pleasure of a visit from two German Ministers, who had been labouring among the Jews, and, it is said, had been made in|strumental in converting many of them † 2.89.

In the month of September he went into North|amptonshire and Yorkshire; and preached at Oundle, Abberford, Leeds, and Hawarth, where good Mr. Grimshaw (who was so indefatigable in his endeavours to bring souls to Christ) was Minister. In his church they had above a thousand communicants, and in the church-yard about six thousand hearers. At Leeds, the auditory consisted of above ten thousand. Thither Mr. Whitefield was invited by one of the Rev. Mr. Wesley's preachers, and by the societies. And Mr. Charles Wesley coming there, gave notice of him to the people‡ 2.90, and also introduced him to the pulpit in Newcastle, where he preached four times, and twice without doors.

It being now late in the year, he did not go for|ward to Scotland, but returned to London, after having preached about thirty times in Yorkshire, and above ten times in Cheshire, and Lancashire. He was also at Sheffield and Nottingham. And the con|gregations were every where large and serious. Only in one or two places, he had a little raw treatment; but this he did not mind, while he had reason to think many received real benefit § 2.91. He arrived in London about the middle of November, and continued there till the beginning of February, employed in his usual

manner. Having offered to assist, occasionally, at West-street chapel, it was accepted. Accordingly, he preached four or five times there, and administer|ed the Sacrament twice or thrice. Congregations were very large * 2.92.

February 6, 1750. He writes from Gloucester † 2.93:

Though I left London in a very weak condition, and the weather was but bad, I came here on Fri|day evening, and was strengthened to preach on Saturday, and likewise on Sunday evening, and twice the same day in the country, at the New-house and at Hampton.

And again from Bristol, February 12.

Since I wrote last, we have been favoured both in Gloucester city, and in the coun|try, with very pleasant and delightful seasons ‡ 2.94. I have preached about twenty times, within this eight or nine days; and though frequently expos|ed to rain and hail, am much better than when I left London.

From Bristol he went to Exeter, and to Plymouth, and in his way met with the Rev. Mr. Pearsall, a dissenting Minister at Taunton, and Mr. Darracott at Wellington; both of whom he speaks of in his letters with the highest regard § 2.95. At Plymouth he preached twelve times in six days, and the longer he preached, he had the greater num|ber of hearers. His friends grew more and more zea|lous, and the fury of his enemies began to subside. From thence he travelled near to the Land's-end, preaching in a great many places, such as Tavistock. St. Ginny's‖ 2.96, Port Isaac, Camelford, St. Andrews,

Redruth, Gwinnop, St. Mewins. All this he ac|complished before the 21st of March, when we find him again at Exeter.

Invitations (says he) are sent to me from several places. I want more tongues, more bodies, more souls for the Lord Jesus. Had I ten thousand, he should have them all* 2.97.

In April he was at London and Portsmouth. And in May went to Ashby, to wait on Lady Huntingdon, who had been ill. In his way thither, he had a most comfortable interview with the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, Mr. Hervey † 2.98, and Dr. —.

* 2.99But at Ashby, where it might have been least ex|pected, there was a riot made before Lady Hunting|don's house, while the Gospel was preaching: and in the evening, some people in their return home narrowly escaped being murdered. The Justice be|ing informed, sent a message, in order to bring the offenders before him.

So that I hope, (says Mr. Whitefield) it will be over-ruled for great good, and that the Gospel, for the future, will have free course† 2.100.

After he left Ashby, he preached at Radcliff church, Nottingham and Sutten with great success.

At Nottingham, (says he) several came to me, enquir|ing, What they should do to be saved? I preached there four times. One evening, Lord S—, and several Gentlemen, were present, and behaved with great decency. Many thousands attended. Yesterday morning I breakfasted with three dissent|ing Ministers; and Mr. P—s, who told me, that Lady P— desired he would press me to preach at the church. Yesterday, in the afternoon, I preached at Sutton; and this morning ‡ 2.101 at Mans|field.

After leaving that place, he went to Ruther|ham and Sheffield. He was at Leeds in the end of

May, and observes,

Methinks, I am now got into another climate * 2.102, where there are many of God's people.

From thence he went to Manchester, Ro|sindale, and several other parts of Lancashire, Kendal, Whitehaven, Cockermouth, preaching generally twice a day, and arrived at Edinburgh, July 6. Having preach|ed near a hundred times since he left London, and by a moderate computation, to above a hundred thou|sand souls.

It is amazing (he writes) to see how people are prepared, in places where I never was before. What shall I render to the Lord?

At Edinburgh and Glasgow, (in which places he spent the month of July, 1750) he was received, as usual, in the most loving and tender manner, preaching generally twice a day to great multitudes, whose seriousness, and earnest desire to hear him, made him exert himself rather beyond his strength.

By preaching always twice, (says he) and once thrice, and once four times in a day † 2.103, I am quite weakened; but I hope to recruit again. I am burning with a fever, and have a violent cold; but Christ's presence makes me smile at pain, and the fire of his love burns up all fevers whatsoever.

He left Edinburgh August 3, and soon found himself much better for riding. At Berwick, one of the ministers sent him an offer of his pulpit, and he was informed that many more round that town, were willing to do the same. At his return to London, he preached several times at West-street Chapel. He had also the pleasure of Mr. Her|vey's company, who, at his desire, came up to town, and lodged in his house. In the months of Septem|ber and October, he made excursions to Portsmouth, Chatham, Gloucester, Birmingham, Eversham, Wed|nesbury, and Nottingham;

ranging about, (as he

expresses it) to see who would believe the Gospel report* 2.104.

And was particularly successful at Chatham and Canterbury.

He spent the winter in London, in his usual busy and laborious way, and with equal success. He was confined, near a fortnight, to his room by a violent fe|ver, and inflammation of the lungs; but before the 17th of December, he was able to preach again. And in the latter end of January 1751, he rode post to Ash|by, being alarmed with the accounts of Lady Hunt|ingdon's dangerous illness, and the afflictions with which it had pleased God to visit her family. He writes from Ashby, January 29.

Blessed be God, Lady Huntingdon is somewhat better. Entreat all our friends to pray for her. Her sister-in-law, La|dy Frances H—, lies dead in the house. She was a retired christian, lived silently, and died sud|denly, without a groan. May my exit be like hers. Almost all the family have been sick in their turns.

Having left London, March 5, He went again in|to Gloucestershire, and to Bristol, and preached at Taunton and Wellington in his way to Plymouth. April 11. he was at Exeter, and writes thus to Mr. Hervey:

Some good I trust, is to be done this spring, to many souls. This western circuit, I be|lieve, has been blessed already. I have preached about forty times since I left London, and have been enabled several times to ride forty miles a day. I find this sensibly refreshes me. I wish you could say so too. At Plymouth we had sweet seasons; and on Tuesday last I met with a young Clergy|man, who was awakened under my preaching seven years ago. He had been at Cambridge, and was ordained by the Bishop of Exeter. He is followed much, and, I suppose, will soon

be reproached for his Master's sake. I hope you find strength to proceed in your book.

From Exeter he set out on a tour through Wales, where, in about three weeks he rode near five hun|dred miles, and preached generally twice a day; and from hence, he made his visit to Ireland, which had been in his thoughts some time.

CHAP. XV. From his first visit to IRELAND, to his opening the New Tabernacle at LONDON, in the Year 1753.

AFTER a passage of five days from Wales, he arrived, May 24, 1751, at Dublin, where he was gladly received, and lodged at the house of Mr. L—, and preached every morning and evening as usual in other places:

Surely (says he) here are many converted souls, among whom are two or three students, and several soldiers. At first * 2.105 the greatness and hurry of the place surprized me; but thanks be to the Lord of the harvest, here as well as elsewhere, the fields are white, ready unto har|vest. Congregations are large, and hear as for eter|nity.

And again:

Athlone, June 10. For this week past, I have been preaching twice almost every day in some country towns. I find, through the many offences that have lately been given, mat|ters were brought to a low ebb. But the cry now is, 'Methodism is revived again.'

I took a journey from near Haverford West to Ireland, where a yet greater work had been begun and car|ried on to a high degree, amidst prodigious opposi|tion; numbers converted, not only from Popery, but to Jesus Christ, at Athlone, Dublin, Limerick, Cork, and various other places† 2.106.

At Limerick he preached seven times to large and affected auditories, and twice at Cork (where the Me|thodists had lately been mobbed) to a great body of people, with all quietness. From thence he went to

Bandon and Kinsale, where a like blessing attended his preaching. At his return to Cork, the numbers and affections of his hearers increased. At Belfast al|so he was detained some days beyond his intention, by the peoples' importunity, and preached at Lisburn, Lurgun, the Maize, and Lambag, towns and places adjacent. So many attended, and the prospect of do|ing good was so promising, that he was sorry he had not come to the north of Ireland sooner. But he hast|ed to pay another visit to Scotland, before he em|barked for America, which he was intent upon doing before winter.

He therefore came over in the beginning of July 1751, from Belfast to Irvine, where, at the desire of the magistrates, he preached to a great congregation; and so proceeded to Glasgow. From this place he writes, July 12.

Though I preached near eighty times in Ireland, and God was pleased to bless his word, yet Scotland seems to be a new world to me. To see the people bring so many Bibles, turn to every passage when I am expounding, and hang|ing, as it were, upon me to hear every word, is very encouraging. I feel an uncommon freedom here; and talking with the winter as well as with the summer saints, feeds and delights my heart.

Here it may be proper, once for all, to take notice of some particulars relating to Mr. Whitefield's visits to Scotland, which he continued till within a few years of his death.

Though after the years 1741, and 1742, there was no such extensive new awakenings, Mr. Whitefield's coming was always refreshing to serious persons, and seemed to put new life into them: and also to be the means of increasing their number. His preaching was still eminently useful in various respects. In the first place, it had an excellent tendency to destroy the hurtful spirit of bigotry, and excessive zeal for smaller * 2.107

matters; and to turn mens' attention to the great and substantial things of religion. Another effect was, that it drew several persons to hear the gospel, who seldom went to hear it from other Ministers. Again, young people in general were much benefited by his ministry, and particularly young students, who be|came afterwards serious evangelical preachers. Last|ly, his morning discourses, which were mostly intend|ed for sincere but disconsolate souls, were peculiarly fitted to direct and encourage all such in the christian life. And his addresses in the evening to the promis|cuous multitudes who then attended him, were of a very alarming kind. There was something exceed|ingly striking in the solemnity of his evening congre|gations in the Orphan-house park at Edinburgh, and High-church-yard of Glasgow; especially towards the conclusion of his sermons, (which were common|ly very long, though they seemed short to the hearers) when the whole multitude stood fix'd, and like one man hung upon his lips, with silent attention, and many under deep impressions of the great objects of religion, and the concerns of eternity. These things will not soon be forgotten; and it is hoped, the many good effects, which by the divine blessing attended them, never will.

His conversation was no less reviving than his ser|mons. Many in Edinburgh and Glasgow are wit|nesses of this, especially at Glasgow, when in company with his good friends, Mr. MacLaurin, Mr. Robert Scott, &c. one might challenge the sons of pleasure with all their wit, good humour and gaiety to furnish entertainment so agreeable. At the same time, every part of it was not more agreeable, than it was useful and edifying.

His friends in Scotland, among whom were many of all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, were very constant and steady in their great regard for him. And his opposers grew more and more mild. Some

anonymous pamphlets were written against him at his first coming: But these soon died and were forgotten. Afterwards a number of stories were handed about to his disadvantage; but upon enquiry, it was found either that matters were misrepresented or exaggerat|ed; or that there was no foundation for such reports at all. In short, when they were traced to their ori|gin, they rather turned out to his honour. He used to smile at good Mr. MacLaurin's honest zeal, who, on such occasions, spared no pains to come at the truth, and when he had discovered it, was no less ea|ger to communicate the discovery to others, for the vindication of Mr. Whitefield's character, in which he thought the credit of religion was concerned. The following instance is well remembered. One Lieute|nant Wright alledged, that Mr. Whitefield had kept back money sent by a gentlewoman to her son in America. This coming to Mr. MacLaurin's ears, he was restless till he procured a meeting betwixt Mr. Whitefield and his accuser. They met; Mr. Wright did not retract what he had said. Upon which a let|ter was instantly wrote to the mother at London; and her answer being received, a confutation of the calumny was published in the Glasgow Courant, in the following terms: October 31, 1748.

A story having been spread in this town of Mr. Whitefield's having received twenty pounds sterling from a gentlewoman in London, to give her son in Geor|gia: whereas, he had received only three guineas, which he had returned to the gentlewoman when he came back from Georgia, her son having been gone from thence before his arrival; a letter was wrote to London to clear up this affair, to which the gentlewoman has sent this answer: 'Sir, this is to assure you, that I received of Mr. John Ste|vens the three guineas, which was the full sum that I gave you for my son. I hope it is only a false aspersion on him; for I never heard that he should

say any such thing, being three months in Eng|land. I am, &c. September 13, 1748.' There is likewise a receipt come down, dated September 3, to Mr. Stevens. Both the letter and receipt are to be seen in the hands of the publisher.

But, indeed, Mr. Whitefield's whole behaviour was so open to the eyes of the world; and his character, after it had stood many attacks from all quarters, came at last to be so thoroughly established, that several of his opposers in Scotland seemed rather to acquire a certain degree of esteem for him; at least, they all thought proper to give over speaking against him.

When he was at Glasgow, he always lodged with Mr. James Niven, Merchant, above the Cross; till towards the end of his life, his asthmatic disorder made the town air disagree with him. And then he went out in the evenings, and stayed with his good friend Mr. MacCulloch at Cambuslang.

A person of eminence, whom a sincere esteem of Mr. Whitefield made attentive to his reception and ministrations in Scotland, from first to last; writes thus to the compiler:

Edinburgh, January 1772.

I think more might be said with great justice, concerning the effects of his ministry in Scotland, after the first two years; as there was always a remarkable revival followed each of his visits; which many of the Ministers testified from their particular knowledge, especially by the number of new communicants. Mention might be made of the great number of Ministers in Scotland, that employed him, and of the many af|fectionate letters he received from them, of which there were a good many printed both in the Lon|don and Glasgow Weekly Histories, from some of the most eminent men in the church, who had em|ployed him to preach in their pulpits, and conti|nued so to do, when opportunity offered; except in the Presbytery of Edinburgh; and even there,

the Magistrates always allowed him a church to preach in, every time he came.

In the month of July, 1751, Mr. Whitefield was glad to understand that Mr. Dinwiddie, brother-in-law to the Rev. Mr. MacCulloch of Cambuslang, was made Governor of Virginia. In that province there had been a considerable awakening for some years past, especially in Hanover county and the places adjacent. As the Ministers of the establishment did not favour the work, and the people had put themselves under the care of the New York Synod, they met with dis|couragements from those in power. However, Mr. Samuel Davies (afterwards President of the College of New-Jersey) being licensed, was settled over a con|gregation; and the religious concern so increased, that one congregation was multiplied to seven. There was now an agreeable prospect that these good peo|ple would have the same privileges secured to them, which dissenting Protestants enjoy at home * 2.108.

August 6, he set out from Edinburgh for London, in order to embark a fourth time for America. He had thrown up much blood in Edinburgh; but the journey he was now upon had a good effect in reco|vering him from that illness: and as he went along, he was much refreshed with the accounts he received of the happy fruits of his ministry at Kendal the year before. After a sorrowful parting with his friends in England, which grew still more distressing to him, he went aboard the Antelope, Captain MacLellan, bound for Georgia with Germans; and took along with him several children.

He arrived at Savannah, October 27, and found the Orphan-house in a flourishing condition.

Thanks be to God, (says he) all is well at Bethesda. A most excellent tract of land is granted to me very near the house, which in a few years, I hope, will make a sufficient provision for it † 2.109.

From November 1751,

to the beginning of April 1752, he was partly at Be|thesda, and partly in South Carolina, still upon the stretch in his Master's work.

I intend, (says he) by his assistance, now to begin; for as yet, alas! I have done nothing.

And again, O that I may begin to be in earnest! It is a new year; God quick|en my tardy pace, and help me to do much work in a little time! this is my highest ambition * 2.110.

Being warned by what had happened to him for|merly, he did not venture to stay the summer season in America; but took his passage in the end of April for London. At his arrival, he perceived he had re|turned in a very good time; for Georgia was soon to be taken into the hands of Government, and put on the same footing with other colonies, which gave ground to hope that it would soon became a flourishing province. This was joyful news. He now thought pro|vidence was appearing for Georgia and Bethesda. He determined therefore to sell his plantation, and to car|ry all his strength to the Orphan-house.

About the middle of June, he planned a new rout.

Next week, (says he) God willing, I shall go to Portsmouth, from thence to Bath, then to the west, then to Wales, and from thence, may be, to † 2.111 Scot|land and Ireland.

Accordingly we find his letters of this period, dated at Portsmouth, Bristol, Cardiff, Ha|verford-west. In returning to Bristol, he attended an association, where were present about nine clergy, and near forty other labourers, of whom he writes ‡ 2.112:

I trust all are born of God, and desirous to promote his glory, and his people's good. All was harmony and love.

August 17. he was in London. His letter of this date to his acquaintance Dr. F. the celebrated electrical philosopher, deserves particular notice.

I find you grow more and more famous in the learned world.

As you have made a pretty considerable progress in the mysteries of electricity, I would now humbly recommend to your diligent unprejudiced pursuit and study, the mystery of the new birth. It is a most important, interesting study, and when mastered, will richly answer and repay you for all your pains. One at whose bar we are shortly to appear, hath solemnly declared, that without it, we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. You will excuse this free|dom. I must have aliquid Christi in all my let|ters* 2.113.

From London he took another tour to Edinburgh, where he arrived in the beginning of September 1752. In his way he preached twice at Lutterworth (the famous John Wickliff's parish) and at Leicester; and in both places was informed afterwards that good was done. At Newcastle, he was as it were arrested to stay, and preached four times to great congrega|tions.

At Edinburgh and Glasgow (in which places he continued till the 10th of October) he was employed as usual. He writes from Glasgow, September 29.

At Edinburgh great multitudes, among whom were abundance of the better sort, attended twice every day. Many young Ministers and students have given close attendance, and I hear of several persons that have been brought under deep con|victions. I intend to send you copies of two let|ters from a Highland schoolmaster, who is honour|ed of God to do much good among the poor High|land children † 2.114.

I have brave news sent me from Leicester and Newcastle, and have strong in|vitations to Yorkshire and Lancashire. What a pi|ty it is that the year goes round so soon.

In 1752, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, upon a division of the house, by a few votes deposed Mr. Gillespie; which afterwards gave occa|sion

to the society called the Presbytery of Relief. Mr. Whitefield being informed of the circumstances of that affair, writes thus * 2.115:

I wish Mr. Gillespie joy. The Pope I find has turned Presbyterian— The Lord reigns, that is enough for us.

And again † 2.116:

Now will Mr. Gillespie do more good in a week, than before, in a year. How blind is Sa|tan! What does he get by casting out Christ's ser|vants? I expect that some great good will come out of these confusions.

In his way back to London, he preached at Ber|wick, Alnwick, Morpeth, Newcastle. From Shef|field he writes, November 1.

Since I left New|castle, I have scarce known sometimes, whether I have been in heaven or on earth. At Leeds, Burstall, Howarth, Halifax, &c. thousands and thousands have flocked twice or thrice a-day to hear the word of life. I am now come from Bolton, Manchester, Stockport and Chinly. Yesterday I preached in a church. Four ordained Ministers, friends to the work of God, have been with me. The word hath run so swiftly at Leeds, that friends are come to fetch me back, and I am now going to Rotheram, Wakefield, Leeds, York, and Epworth. God favours us with weather, and I would fai•• make hay whilst the sun shines.—O that I h•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many tongues; as there are hairs upon my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus should have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all. Fain would I die preaching ‡ 2.117.

November 10. he arrived at London, and proce••••|ed in his usual way at the Tabernacle. December 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he says,

My hands are full of work; and I trust I can say, the Lord causes his work to prosper in my unworthy hands. More blessed seasons we never enjoyed. Our sacramental occasions have been ex|ceedingly awful and refreshing.

He now began to think of erecting a new Taber|nacle, a large building eighty foot square; which he accomplished in the spring and summer follow|ing.

About this time also, we find Mr. Hervey and him employed in revising each others manuscripts. Of Mr. Hervey's he says.

For me to play the critic on them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, I will just mark a few places, as you desire. I foretel their fate; nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, with|out shewing some resentment against its artful mur|derer.

Again,

* 2.118 I thank you a thousand times for the trouble you have been at in revising my poor compositions, which I am afraid you have not reated with a becoming severity. How many pardons shall I ask for mangling, and I fear murdering your Theron and Aspasio. If you think my two sermons will do for the public, pray return them immediately. I have nothing to com|fort me but this, that the Lord chuses the weak things of this world to confound the strong, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are. I write for the poor, you for the polite and noble; God will assuredly own and bless what you write.

He was much affected about this time with the ••••th of one Mr. Steward, a Minister that began to ••opular in the church, but soon entered into his 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

When I met the workmen to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of build|ing Tabernacles. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued. Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was

with him till a few minutes before he slept in Je|sus* 2.119.

March 1, 1753. He laid the foundation of the new Tabernacle, and preached from Exod. xx. 24. Dur|ing the building thereof, he preached in Moorfields, Spittalfields, and other places in London, and made excursions to Chatham, Sheerness, and Braintree.

In the month of April he went to Norwich for a few days, preaching twice a day to thousands, who attended with the greatest eagerness. At his evening sermons, some rude people made opposition, but with|out effect. At this time also he published his Ex|postulatory Letter to Count Zinzendorff, which is in the 4th vol. of his works.

In May he made another excursion to Narboth, Pembroke, Haverford-west, &c. where congregations were large, and a gracious melting seemed to be among the people. Within little more than a fort|night he rode three hundred and fifty miles, and preached above twenty times † 2.120.

Sunday, June 10, 1753. He opened his new Tabernacle, preaching in the morning from 1 Kings viii. 11, and in the evening from 1 Chron. xxix. 9.

CHAP. XVI. From his opening the New Tabernacle in MOORFIELDS, to his preaching at the Chapel in TOTTENHAM-COURT ROAD, 1756.

MR. Whitefield having preached in London at his Tabernacle for a few days with his usual fervour, and success, and to large congregations, in the end of the month of June, set out towards Scot|land. In his way he had desirable meetings at Oul|ney and Northampton. He preached also at Lei|cester, and Nottingham, where a great multitude came to hear, and at Sheffield. In his way to Leeds, next morning, he preached at Rotheram and Wake|field. At the former place he had been disturbed twice or thrice, and was almost determined to preach there no more. But he * 2.121 found this would have been a rash determination; for some who had been bitter persecutors, now received him gladly into their house, and owned, that God had made him instru|mental in their conversion. At Leeds he had great success. At York also he preached four times. Twice they were disturbed, and twice had very agreeable seasons. At Newcastle he preached seven times, and once at Sunderland to great multitudes who were deeply impressed. At five in the morning the great room was filled, and on the Lords-day, the congrega|tion without was exceeding large. In short, the pros|pect all around was so promising, that he almost re|pented of his engagement to go to Scotland, and re|solved to come back as soon as possible.

He proceeded however, according to his promise, and having spent some days at Edinburgh and Glas|gow in his usual laborious and earnest manner, and with usual acceptance, he returned to England, Au|gust 7.

All this time he preached twice or thrice a day, and once five times. This he found rather too much for his strength. But he still went on, often expres|sing his desires and hopes soon to see his Divine Mas|ter in glory.

After he had been in Glasgow, the following para|graph appeared in the Newcastle Journal, August 11, 1753.

By a Letter from Edinburgh we are informed, that on the second instant Mr. Whitefield, the Iti|nerant, being at Glasgow, and preaching to a nu|merous audience near the Play-house lately built, he inflamed the mob so much against it, that they ran directly from before him, and pulled it down to the ground. Several of the rioters are since taken up, and committed to goal.

It would not have been worth while to transcribe this, were it not another specimen of the unaccount|able liberties taken by some of the opposers of Mr. Whitefield, in telling their stories concerning him. The fact was this. Mr. Whitefield being informed, that the Players had lately come to Glasgow, and had met with some encouragement, took occasion in his sermons to preach against Play-houses, and to repre|sent their pernicious influence on religion and mora|lity, especially in a populous, commercial city, and the seat of a University. But there was no riot. It was the proprietor of the Play-house (at that time a slight temporary booth supported by the old walls of the Bishop's Castle) who ordered his workmen to take it down.

On his return to England, he went from Newcastle to Stockton, Osmotherly, York and Leeds. He assist|ed at the sacrament at Howard, where they had a

extraordinary season, and a vast many communicants. He went as far as Bolton, Manchester and Stockport. The more he preached, the more eager the people seemed to be. The last part of his circuit was to Lin|colnshire, Rotheram, Sheffield Nottingham and Nor|thampton. He returned to London in the latter end of September, having travelled about twelve hundred miles, and preached a hundred and eighty times to many thousands * 2.122.

His stay in London was but short, in the month of October he took another tour to Staffordshire. A new scene of usefulness seemed to open to him, while he he preached at Oulney, at Oxen near Harborough, Bosworth, Kettering and Bedford; at all which places preached in one week. At Birmingham also, and several adjacent places, the people flocked to hear the gospel. At a place near Dudley called Guarnall he was informed of a whole company that were awaken|ed by reading his sermons † 2.123. He met with others a|wakened years ago, and heard of a notorious perse|cutor and drunkard who had been powerfully struck. He loved to break up new ground, as he expresses it; and had the pleasure to find sometimes that his way was prepared by the blessing which God had given to his writings, particularly at Alperam in Cheshire, and at Liverpool, where a person that had received benefit by reading his sermons, met him at landing, and took him to his house. All was quiet here, and at Chester, where he preached four times and had several of the clergy in his congregations. But at Wrexham and Nantwich (where a Methodist meet|ing-house had lately been pulled down) he was di|sturbed by the mob, and forced to remove his congre|gation to a place a little out of town ‡ 2.124.

Thus he went on, returning at times for a few days to London. And November 16, writes from Glou|cester,

After Lord's day I am bound for Bristol and Plymouth, and hope to get into my winter quar|ters sometime before Christmas. Glad should I be to travel for Jesus all the year round. It is more to me than my necessary food* 2.125.

On Sunday, November, 25. he opened the new Tabernacle at Bristol, which he observes was large, but not half large enough; for if the place could contain them, near as many would attend as in London.

He also preached twice, in his brother's great house to the quality. Though it was so late in the year, he set out for Somersetshire, and preached seve|ral times in the open air, at seven o'clock at night.

My hands and body (says he) were pierced with cold; but what are outward things, when the soul within is warmed with the love of God? The stars shone exceeding bright; by an eye of faith, I saw Him who calleth them all by their names. My soul was filled with a holy ambition, and I longed to be one of those who shall shine as the stars for ever and ever † 2.126.

At this time his friend and fellow-labourer, the Rev. Mr. John Wesley had by his extraordinary labours brought his life into great danger, of which Mr. Whitefield thus writes, ‡ 2.127 Bristol, December 3, 1753.

I am now hastening to London to pay my last respects to my dying friend. The Physicians think his disease is a galloping consumption. I pity the church, I pity myself, but not him. Poor Mr. Charles will now have double work. But we can do all things through Christ strengthening us!

His let|ters to both the brothers on this occasion are very af|fectionate and sympathizing § 2.128. And he soon had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Wesley recover. Decem|ber 26. he had a visit from Messieurs Tennent and Davies from America, who came over to procure con|tributions

for the College of New-Jersey. As they were commissioned to apply for a general collection in Scotland, he gave them recommendatory letters, and heartily endeavoured to promote their design. He stayed in London all the winter of 1753, * 2.129 long|ing for a spring campaign (as he expresses it) that he might begin to do something for his divine Master.

March 7, 1754, having got twenty-two poor de|stitute children under his care, he embarked with them for America, by way of Lisbon, (at which port the ship was obliged to touch) where he stay|ed from the 20th of March to the 13th of April.

From Lisbon he writes † 2.130:

The air agrees with my poor constitution extremely, and through di|vine assistance, I hope what I see will also much im|prove my better part, and help to qualify me bet|ter for preaching the everlasting gospel: again, a Gentleman hath most gladly received me into his house, and behaves like a friend indeed. To day I dine with the Consul. Every day I have seen or heard something, that hath had a native tendency to make me thankful for the glorious Reforma|tion ‡ 2.131.

After a sight of some Popish processions, which were new and very striking to him, he says,

I returned to my lodgings not a little affected, to see so many thousands led away from the simplici|ty of the gospel, by such a mixture of human arti|fice and blind superstition, of which, indeed, I

could have formed no idea, had I not been an eye|witness * 2.132.

He was still more shocked at the procession of St. Francis; the following description of which he wrote to his friend † 2.133, with expressions of praise and grati|tude to Providence for the great wonder of the Re|formation:

An intelligent Protestant, who stood near me, was so good as to be my interpreter of the dumb shew as it passed along.—I say, dumb shew; for you must know, it was chiefly made up of waxen or wooden images, carried on mens' shoulders through the streets, intending to repre|sent the life and death of St. Francis, the founder of one of their religious orders. They were brought out from the Franciscan convent, and were preced|ed by three persons in scarlet habits, with baskets in their hands, in which they received the alms of the spectators, for the benefit of the poor prisoners. After these, came two little boys in party-coloured cloaths, with wings fixed on their shoulders, in imi|tation of little angels.—Then appeared the figure of St. Francis, very gay and beau-like, as he used to be before his conversion. In the next he was in|troduced under conviction, and consequently stript of his finery. Soon after this, was exhibited an image of our blessed LORD himself, in a purple gown, with long black hair, with St. Francis lying before him, to receive his immediate orders. Then came the Virgin Mother, (horesco referens) with CHRIST her son at her left hand, and St. Francis making his obeisance to both.—Here, if I remem|ber aright, he made his first appearance in his fri|ar's habit, with his hair cut short, but not as yet shaved in the crown of his head. After a little space followed a mitre•• Cardinal gaudily attired, and be|fore him lay St. Francis almost prostrate, in order to be confirmed in his office. Soon after this, ••he appears quite metamorphosed into a monk, his

crown shorn, his habit black, and his loins girt with a knotted cord.—Here he prays to our Saviour hanging on a cross, that the marks of the wounds in his hands, feet, and side, might be impressed on the same parts of his body. The prayer is granted; blood comes from the hands, feet, and side; and the saint, with great devotion, re|ceives the impression. This was represented by red waxen strings, reaching from those parts of the image to the corresponding parts of St. Francis's body. Upon this he begins to do wonders; and therefore, in a little while, he is carried along, as holding up a house which was just falling. This miracle, they say, was performed, (if my informa|tion be true) at Madrid, but the particulars of its history I have forgotten. At length the father dies, and is brought forth lying in his grave. But lo! the briars and nettles under which be lay, are turned unto fine and fragrant flowers. After this he is borne along upon a bier covered with a sil|ver pall, and four friars lamenting over him.—He then appears for the last time, but with an increase of power; for he was represented as drawing tor|mented people out of purgatory with his knotted cord, which, as you may well imagine, the poor souls catched at, and took hold of very eagerly. At length came a gorgeous friar under a splendid ca|nopy, bearing in his hand a piece of the holy cross. After him followed two more little winged boys, and then a long train of fat and well favoured Fran|ciscans, with their calceis fenestratis, as Erasmus calls them; and so the procession ended. . . . . About ten o'clock at night, a train of near two hundred penitents passed along, and several companies fol|lowed after with their respective preaching friars at their heads, bearing crucifixes. The penitents themselves were cloathed and covered all over with

white linen vestments, only holes were made for their eyes to peep out at. All were bare-footed, and all had long heavy chains fastened to their an|cles, which, when dragged along the street, made a dismal rattling: but though alike in dress, yet in other respects there was great variety amongst them. For some carried great stones on their backs, and others dead mens bones and skulls in their hands. Some bore large and seemingly very heavy crosses upon their shoulders, whilst others had their arms extended quite wide, or carried a bow full of swords with the points downwards. Most of them whipped and lashed themselves, some with cords, and others with flat bits of iron. It being a moon|shine night, I could see them quite well; and in|deed some of them struck so hard, that I perceived their backs, (left bare on purpose to be slashed) were quite red, and swollen very much by the vio|lence and repetition of the blows. The whole scene was horrible.

He adds,

O for an obediential ac|knowledgment to the ever-blessed God, for our re|peated deliverances.

He further observes,

The preachers here have also taught me something; their action is graceful, Vividi oculi, vividae manus, om|nia vivida. Surely our English preachers would do well, to be a little more fervent in their address. They have truth on their side; why should super|stition and falshood run away with all that is pathe|tic and affecting * 2.134?

His two last letters from Lis|bon contain the following lively description of the superstitious farces which he saw acted on Holy Thursday as they call it, and Good Friday:

† 2.135 I have now seen the solemnities of an Holy Thurs|day, which is a very high day in this metropolis, and particularly remarkable for the grand illumi|nation of the churches, and the King's washing

twelve poor mens' feet. Go which way you would, nothing was to be seen but illuminations within, and hurry without.—For all persons, crowned heads themselves not excepted, are obliged on this day to visit seven churches or altars, in imitation, as is supposed, of our LORD's being hurried from one tribunal to another, before he was condemned to be hung upon the cross.

The following is an ac|count of Good Friday's superstitious and idolatrous farce:

* 2.136Before all used to be noise and hurry;— now, all was hushed and shut up in the most awful and profound silence. No clock or bell had been heard since yesterday noon. About two in the af|ternoon we got to the place, where (I had heard some days ago) an extraordinary scene was to be exhibited: 'The crucifixion of the Son of GOD, represented partly by dumb images, and partly by living persons, in a large church belonging to the convent of St. De Beate.' Several thousands crowd|ed into it.—Through the kind interposition and as|sistance of a Protestant or two, I was not only ad|mitted into the church, but was very commodious|ly situated to view the whole performance. We had not waited long before the curtain was drawn up. Immediately, upon a high scaffold, hung in the front with black baize, and behind with silk purple damask laced with gold, was exhibited to our view an image of the LORD JESUS at full length, crown|ed with thorns, and nailed on a cross between two figures of like dimensions, representing the two thieves. At a little distance on the right hand, was placed an image of the Virgin Mary, in plain long ruffles, and a kind of widow-weeds. Her veil was purple silk, and she had a wire glory round her head.—At the foot of the cross lay, in a mournful pensive posture, a living man, dressed in woman's cloaths, who personated Mary Magdalen; and not

far off stood a young man, in imitation of the be|loved disciple.—He was dressed in a loose green silk vesture, and bob-wig.— His eyes were fixed on the cross, and his two hands a little extended. On each side, near the front of the stage, stood two centinels in buff, with formidable caps and long beards; and directly in the front stood another yet more formidable, with a large target in his hand. We may suppose him to be the Roman centurion. To complete the scene, from behind the purple hangings came out about twenty little purple vest|ed winged boys, two by two, each bearing a light|ed wax taper in his hand, and a crimson and gold cap on his head.—At their entrance upon the stage, they gently bowed their heads to the spectators, then kneeled and made obeisance, first to the image on the cross, and then to that of the Virgin Mary. When risen, they bowed to each other, and then took their respective places over-against one ano|ther on steps assigned for them at the front of the stage. Opposite to this, at a few yards distance, stood a black friar in a pulpit hung in mourning. For a while he paused, and then, breaking silence, gra|dually lifted up his voice 'till it was extended to a pretty high pitch, though I think scarce high enough for so large an auditory. After he had pro|ceeded in his discourse about a quarter of an hour, a confused noise was heard near the front great door; upon turning my head, I saw four long-bearded men, two of which carried a ladder on their shoulders, and after them followed two more with large gilt dishes in their hands, full of linen, spices, &c. These (as I imagined) were the representatives of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. On a sig|nal given from the pulpit, they advanced towards the steps of the scaffold. But upon their very first attempting to mount it, at the watchful centurion's nod, the observant soldiers made a pass at them,

and presented the points of their javelins directly to their breasts. They are repulsed. Upon this a letter from Pilate is produced. The centurion reads it, shakes his head, and with looks that bespoke a forced compliance, beckons to the centinels to withdraw their arms. Leave being thus obtain|ed, they ascend; and having paid their homage, by kneeling first to the image on the cross, and then to the Virgin Mary, they retired to the back of the stage. Still the preacher continued declaim|ing, or rather, (as was said) explaining the mourn|ful scene. Magdalen persists in wringing her hands, and variously expressing her personated sorrow; whilst John (seemingly regardless of all besides) stood gazing on the crucified figure. By this time it was near three o'clock, and therefore proper for the scene to close. The ladders are ascended, the superscription and crown of thorns taken off, long white rollers put round the arms of the image, and and then the nails knocked out which fastened the hands and feet. Here Mary Magdalen looks most languishing, and John, if possible, stands more thun|derstruck than before.—The orator lifts up his voice, and almost all the hearers expressed concern by weeping, beating their breasts, and smiting their cheeks.—At length the body is gently let down. Magdalen eyes it, and, gradually rising, receives the feet into her wide spread handkerchief; whilst John (who hitherto stood motionless like a statue) as the body came near the ground, with an eager|ness that bespoke the intense affection of a sympa|thizing friend, runs towards the cross, seizes the upper part of it into his clasping arms, and, with his disguised fellow mourner, helps to bear it away. Great preparations were made for its interment. It was wrapped in linen and spices, &c. and being laid upon a bier richly hung, was afterwards car|ried round the church-yard in grand procession,

and in about a quarter of an hour the corpse was brought in, and deposited with great ceremony in an open sepulchre, prepared for the purpose.

Up|on all which he says,

Surely, thought I, whilst at|tending on such a scene of mock devotion, if ever, now is the dear LORD JESUS crucified afresh; and I could then, and even now, think of no other plea for the poor beguiled devotees, than that which suffering innocence put up himself for his enemies, when actually hanging upon the cross, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

After a passage of six weeks from Lisbon, he arriv|ed at Beauford in South-Carolina, May 27. with his Orphan charge, all quite well. Having settled them in his family in Georgia, which now consisted of above a hundred, and spent some time in Carolina, he took a journey to the northward.

At Charlestown (says he) and other parts of Carolina my poor la|bours have met with the usual acceptance, and I have reason to hope a Clergyman hath been brought under very serious impressions. My health is wonderfully preserved. My wonted vomitings have left me, and though I ride whole nights, and have been frequently exposed to great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains, yet I am ra|ther better than usual, and as far as I can judge, am not yet to die. O that I may at length learn to begin to live. I am ashamed of my sloth and lukewarmness, and long to be on the stretch for God* 2.137.

He arrived at New-York by water July 27, and preached backwards and forwards from New-York to Philadelphia, and White Creek, till the middle of September.

Every where he ob|serves, a divine power accompanied the word, pre|judices were removed, and a more effectual door opened than ever, for preaching the Gospel† 2.138.

The latter end of September, he had once more the pleasure of seeing his good old friend Gover|nor Belchier at Elizabeth Town (New-Jersey.) And it being the New-Jersey commencement, the President and the Trustees presented Mr. Whitefield with the degree of A. M. The meeting of the Sy|nod succeeded, before whom he preached several times, and had much satisfaction in their company.

To-morrow, (says he) October 1, God willing, I shall set out with the worthy President (Mr. Burr) for New-England, and expect to return back to the Orphan-house, through Virginia. This will be about a two thousand miles circuit; but the Re|deemer's strength will be more than sufficient.

He had also some thoughts of going to the West Indies, had it been practicable, before his return to Eng|land* 2.139.

He arrived with President Burr at Boston, Octo|ber 9, and preached there a week with great accep|tance.

At Rhode-Island and Boston (says he) souls fly to the Gospel, like doves to the windows. Opposition seems to fall daily.

When he was at Boston, he heard to his great joy that a Governor was at length nominated for Georgia, and that his friend Mr. Habersham was made secretary; to whom he writes,

May the King of kings enable you to discharge your trust, as becomes a good patriot, subject, and christian† 2.140!

At this time, he went as far north as Portsmouth (New Hampshire) preach|ing always twice, and sometimes thrice a day; his reception at Boston was more favourable than that fourteen years before; and in general his labours seemed to be attended with as great a blessing as ever‡ 2.141. He took leave of the Boston people at four in the morning, November 7, and went to Rhode-Island;

from thence through Maryland§ 2.142 and Virginia, where the prospect of doing good was so promising, that he was sorry he had not come sooner. Many came for|ty or fifty miles to hear him; and a spirit of convic|tion and consolation seemed to run through all the as|semblies. Three churches were opened to him. Pre|judices subsided; some of the rich and great began to think favourably of his ministrations; and several of the lower class came to him, and acknowledged what God had done for them by his preaching, when there before* 2.143.

In the month of February 1755, he got back to Charlestown, and from thence went to Savannah; continuing in these places till the latter end of March, when he embarked for England. And on the 8th of May, arrived at New-Haven in Sussex† 2.144.

The first thing he took notice of, was the success of the Gospel in his native country:

Glory be to the great head of the Church! the word hath still free course. The poor despised Methodists are as lively as ever; and in several churches, the Gos|pel is now preached with power. Many in Ox|ford are awakened to the knowledge of the truth, and I have heard almost every week of some fresh Minister or another, that seems determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified‡ 2.145.

This consideration seems to have reanimated him. He went on preaching earnestly at London, Bristol, Bath, and in Gloucestershire, till the month of Au|gust.

Then he went to Norwich, and opened a Ta|bernacle there.

At this last place (says he) not|withstanding offences have come, there has been a glorious work begun, and is now carrying on, (August 30, 1755.) The polite and great seem to hear with much attention, and I scarce ever preach|ed a week together with greater freedom* 2.146.

After this he went his northern circuit, and found reason to bless God for giving countenance to his la|bours all the way; particularly, at Northampton, Li|verpool, Bolton, Manchester, Leeds, Bradford, and York† 2.147. But when he had been some days at New|castle, he found it too late to go to Ireland, (as he once proposed) or even to Scotland: He returned therefore to London, October 30, after preaching twice and thrice a day for two months, to many thou|sands. At this time, he says,

Next to Jesus, my King and country were upon my heart. I hope, I shall always think it my bounden-duty, next to inviting sinners to the blessed Jesus, to exhort my hearers to exert themselves against the first ap|proaches of popish tyranny, and arbitrary power‡ 2.148. O that we may be enabled to watch and pray, against all the opposition of Antichrist in our hearts, for after all, there lies the most dangerous man of sin.§ 2.149

About the end of November, he preached in pain, occasioned by a sore throat, which was like

to have terminated in an inflammatory quincey. This obliged him much against his will, to be silent a few days. As soon as the danger seemed to be over, he fell to work again‡ 2.150. He was now applied to by many serious persons, to preach twice a week at Long-acre Chapel, near the play-houses. Being informed that the place was licensed, he complied, and preached there for the first time, on December 23, 1755; but met with great difficulties. The Bishop of B— sent him a prohibition. There was also a number of sol|diers, drummers, and many of the lower sort of peo|ple, hired to disturb him, by making a noise in the neighbouring house, or yard, of one Mr. C—; and this not once or twice, but every time he preach|ed at that Chapel; being hired by subscription, and provided with a copper furnace, bells, drums, clappers, &c. they made it their business to raise the loudest din they possible could, from the moment he began preaching to the end of his sermon. By which, also, mobbers were encouraged to come and riot at the chapel-door, during the time of divine service, and then insult and abuse him, and the congregation, af|ter it was over. The Chapel windows, while he was preaching, were repeatedly broken by large stones, which sadly wounded some of the hearers. Upon this occasion, Mr. Whitefield wrote several spirited letters to the Bishop of B—, acknowledging, in|deed his Lordship's candor, and thanking him for his favourable opinion and good wishes; (for the Bishop had wrote an answer to his first letter) but, at the same time, with great strength of reason, and a be|coming sense of British liberty, defending his own conduct, and remonstrating against riotous proceed|ings

of his adversaries.

Last Tuesday night, (says he) all was hushed. And in order to throw off all popular odium, I gave it as my opinion that it was owing to your Lordship's kind interposition. One Mr. C—, and one Mr. —, I am informed, are greatly concerned. I know them not; and I pray the Lord of all lords never to lay this ill and unmerited treatment to their charge. If no more noise is made on their part, I assure your Lordship, no further resentment shall be made on mine. But, if they persist, I have the authority of the Apostle on a like occasion, to appeal unto Caesar. And thanks be to God, we have a Caesar to appeal to, whose laws will not suffer any of his loyal subjects to be used in such an inhuman manner. I have only one favour to beg of your Lordship, that you would send (as they are your Lordship's parishi|oners) to the above Gentlemen, and desire them, henceforward, to desist from such unchristian, (and especially, at this critical juncture) such riotous and and dangerous proceedings. Whether as a Chap|lain to a most worthy Peeress, and a Presbyter of of the Church of England, and a steady disinterested friend to our present happy constitution, I have not a right to ask such a favour, I leave to your Lord|ship's mature deliberation* 2.151.

In the mean time, his preaching was owned by God: particularly, ••s to one, who had been a subscriber to hire men to make the noise† 2.152.

In the beginning of February 1756, he sent eighty pounds of the collection which he had made at the Tabernacle, on the day of the public fast, to the so|ciety for relieving the poor persecuted French Pro|testants‡ 2.153.

As the uproar was still continued at Long-acre Chapel, and the facts were so flagrant, he was advised to prosecute the offenders by law. This being under|stood, his life was threatened. A man came up to him, in the pulpit at the Tabernacle* 2.154, and three anonymous letters were sent him, denouncing, a certain, sudden, and unavoidable stroke, unless he desisted from preaching, and pursuing the offenders. Judg|ing that others were concerned as well as himself, and that it was an affair that had reference to the welfare of civil government, he sent a copy of one of the letters to the Honourable Hume C—ll, beg|ging the favour of his advice; and was advised by all means, to put all concerned into the court of King's Bench† 2.155. The Earl of Holderness, one of the secre|taries of state) to whom he was introduced on this oc|casion, received him very courteously, and seemed to have no objection against issuing a reward for the dis|covery of the letter-writer. "I find," says Mr. Whitefield, in his letter to Lady II—n, May 2, 1756,

that all things happen for the furtherance of the Gospel. I suppose, your Ladyship has seen his Majesty's promise of pardon, to any that will discover the letter-writer; and this brings the further news of my having taken a piece of ground, very commodious to build on, not far from the Foundling Hospital. I have opened the subscrip|tion, and through God's blessing, it hath already amounted to near six hundred pounds. I hope, in a few months to have what hath been long wanted, a place for the Gospel, at the other end of the town. This evening, God willing, I venture once more to preach at Long-acre.

The

place he here speaks of, is the chapel in Tottenham-Court-Road, which he began to build May 10, 1756.

After this he set out on one of his wonted tours, and having spent three weeks in preaching, with usu|al success, at Bristol, and in Gloucershire, at Brad|ford, Frome, Warminster, and at Portsmouth * 2.156, he returned to London in the beginning of June.

July 27. he writes,

The Gospel flourishes in London. I am just returned from preaching it at Sheerness, Chatham, and in the Camp.

Next day he set off for Scotland† 2.157. How he employed his time in his way thither, appears from the following letter.

Sunderland, August 14, 1756. How swift|ly doth my precious time fly away! It is now a fortnight since I came to Leeds, in and about which, I preached eight days, thrice almost every day, to thronged and affected auditories. On Sun|day last at Bradford, in the morning, the auditory consisted of about ten thousand; at noon, and in the evening at Burstall, to near double the number. Though hoarse, I was helped to speak so, that all heard. Next morning, I took a sorrowful leave of Leeds, preached at Doncaster at noon, and at York the same night; on Wednesday at Wawstall, about fifty miles off; on Thursday, twice at Yarm, and last night, and this morning here.

All the way he heard of a great concern, since he was in these parts last year.

Upon pressing invitations from friends in the north, he proceeded to Edinburgh, where he arrived Au|gust 20. and preached there‡ 2.158 and at Glasgow, a•• usual, till September 22; about which time he re|ceived a message from the new Governor of Georgia

in London desiring to see and converse with him be|fore he embarked* 2.159.

In his way to London, he again visited Leeds, and went some days into good Mr. G— and Mr. J—'s round, preaching upon the mountains to many thousands. But finding his last year's disorder was like to return, he was obliged to leave off, and came to London in the end of October; and No|vember the 7th, opened his New Chapel in Totten|ham-Court-Road, preaching from 1 Cor. iii.11.† 2.160

For other foundation can no man lay, than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.

CHAP. XVII. From his opening his Chapel in TOTTENHAM-COURT-ROAD, to his Arrival in EDINBURGH, in the Year 1759.

HIS constant work was now preaching about fif|teen times a week, which, with a weak appe|tite, want of ••est* 2.161, and much care lying upon his mind, enfeebled his body exceedingly.

But (says he) the joy of the Lord is my strength, and my greatest grief is, that I can do no more for Him, who hath done and suffered so much for me† 2.162.

His new Chapel succeeded according to his wish. On Sunday mornings hundreds went away not being able to get in‡ 2.163. Some people of distinction came, and begged they might have a constant seat; and he re|ceived a very serious letter, from a person who was brought under concern there, though he came at first out of curiosity, to see what sort of place it was§ 2.164.

In spring 1757, he set out again on his northern circuit, and came to Edinburgh in the month of May, when the General Assembly of the Church of Scot|land held their annual meeting. He was much pleas|ed

with this circumstance. Many Ministers attended his sermons, perhaps a hundred at a time. Thereby prejudices were removed, and many of them seemed to be deeply affected. About thirty of them, as a token of respect, invited him to a public entertain|ment. The King's Commissioner also invited him to his table.

Some of the Scotch clergy, who were prejudiced against Mr. Whitefield, took upon them to signify to the Commissioner, (Lord Cathcart) by some of their friends, that it would be better not to invite Mr. Whitefield to his table; and that it would give of|fence. This overture his Grace received with indig|nation.

The Earl of L— also, who was King's Com|missioner before Lord Cathcart, shewed particular at|tention to Mr. Whitefield: And from the time of his first coming to Scotland, shewed a great and constant regard for him.

Thousands, among whom were a great many of the best rank, daily attended his ministrations, and the longer he staid, the more the congregations increased* 2.165.

From Edinburgh he went to Glasgow, where, hav|ing preached twice by the way, he arrived june 8th, and continued till the 14th, preaching, as usual, in the High church-yard, to great multitudes, morning and evening; besides on the Lord's-day, both fore|noon and afternoon, in one of the churches of the city. The poor in Glasgow being at this time in ve|ry mournful circumstances, notwithstanding the va|rious sources of supply, he (with the countenance of the magistrates) made a collection for them, at his sermon on Monday evening, which amounted to near sixty pounds. Next day he preached at Paisley; and from thence set out for Ireland.

His first reception was promising as formerly. Con|gregations at Dublin were very large, and much af|fected.

One of the Bishops told a Nobleman, (who repeated it to Mr. Whitefield) that he was glad he was come to rouse the people. All sorts attended, and all sorts seemed to be struck with a religious concern* 2.166. But on Sunday afternoon, July 3. after preaching in Oxmantown-green, (a place frequented by the Or|mand and Liberty boys, as they call them, who often fight there) he narrowly escaped with his life. It be|ing war time, he took occasion to exhort his hearers, (as was his usual practice) not only to fear God, but to honour the King; and prayed for success to the King of Prussia. In the time of sermon and prayer, a few stones were thrown at him, which did no hurt. But when he had done, and thought to return home, the way he came, by the barracks, to his great sur|prize access was denied; and he was obliged to go near half a mile, from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds of Papists, &c. who finding him unattended, (for a soldier, and four preachers who came with him, had fled) threw vollies of stones upon him from all quarters, and made him reel backwards and forwards, till he was almost breathless, and all over a gore of blood.

I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large, and near my temples. I thought of Stephen, and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this bloody triumph, to the immediate presence of my Master† 2.167.

At last, with great difficulty, he staggered to the door of a Mi|nister's house lying next to the Green, which was kindly opened to him. For a while he continued speechless and panting for breath; but his weeping friends having given him some cordials, and washed his wounds, a coach was procured, in which, amidst the oaths, imprecations and threatnings of the Popish rabble, he got safe home; and joined in a hymn of thanksgiving with his friends, by whom, he says,

none but spectators could form an idea of the affec|tion

with which he was received.

Next morning he set out for Port Arlington,

leaving, (says he) my persecutors to his mercy, who of persecutors has often made preachers. I pray God, I may thus be avenged of them† 2.168.

After preaching at Port Arlington, Limerick, and Cork; the beginning of August he returned to Eng|land; and, while the weather permitted, continued to range (as he expresses it) preaching with great earnestness every where.

This spiritual hunting, (says he) is delightful sport, when the heart is in the work* 2.169.

At Plymouth he had the pleasure of seeing officers, soldiers, sailors, &c. attending his sermons with the utmost solemnity. In Exeter also, Bristol, Gloucester, and Gloucestershire, he had de|lightful seasons. About the middle of October 1757, he returned to London.

His attendance this winter on both the Chapel and the Tabernacle, together with his thoughtfulness, greatly impaired his health. He was troubled with continual vomitings, got little sleep, and had no appe|tite. Still, however, he went on as well as he could.

I am brought, now† 2.170, (says he) to the short allow|ance of preaching but once a day, and thrice on a Sunday.

But when he was not preaching, he was projecting some scheme or other for the advance|ment of religion: for instance the building of alms-houses for pious widows, on the ground that surround|ed his Chapel.

I have a plan, (says he) for twelve. The whole expence will be four hundred pounds. I have got a prospect of two. I propose allowing each widow half a crown a week. The Sacrament money will more than do. If this be effected many godly widows will be provided for, and a standing monument left that the Methodists were not against good works‡ 2.171.

It was not long till

this plan was put into execution. The foundation of the alms-houses was laid February 16, 1758, and the widows began to be admitted in June following.

He began his summer-circuit this year at Glouces|ter: from thence he went to Bristol, and then to Wales. When he was in Wales he was brought very low in his health. He was not able to sit up in company, as he used to do; and could take very little food. Yet continued travelling and preaching twice a day, through various towns in South Wales, where multi|tudes attended; on Sundays the numbers were al|most incredible* 2.172.

In the month of July he set off for Scotland. In his way he preached at Everton, St. Neots, Kayso, Bedford, Oulney, Weston, Underwood, Ravenstone, Northampton, and Newcastle. Four Clergymen lent him their pulpits. His bodily strength increased so little by this journey, that he sometimes had thoughts of turning back. But this he did not think to be his duty.

Through divine strength, (says he) I hope to go forward, and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work† 2.173.

Yet it pleased God to restore his health in a good measure, soon after his arrival in Scotland. From Edinburgh he writes, August 19 and 24.

For these four months last past, I have been brought so exceed|ing low in my body, that I was in hopes, every sermon I preached would waft me to my wished for home. Scotland, I hoped, would finish my warfare; but it has rather driven me back to sea again. On Tuesday next, I thought to have moved; but as it is race-week, and my health is improving, friends advise me to stay, to stir them up to run with patience the race that is set before us.

Edinburgh, September 12, 1758. Mr. White|field's presence, at this time, has been particularly useful to the Orphan-Hospital, for which upwards of

two hundred pounds hath been raised from the col|lection at the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and seat-••nts. Before he left Glasgow, He made a collection for the Glas|gow Charitable Highland Society, for supporting and educating poor Highland children; a scheme particularly useful at this time, when so many of their parents and friends are abroad in America, in his Majesty's service. During his stay here, he has had occasion to preach three thanksgiving ser|mons, for the victory at Crevelt, the taking of Cape-Breton, and the late defeat of the Russians. By his warm and repeated exhortation to loyalty, and a steady adherance to the protestant interest, on this, and all other occasions, it must be acknow|ledged, even in this view, his visit here has been useful to the community in a civil, as well as a religious light.* 2.174

Having left Edinburgh, September 13, he preach|ed in a great many places in the north of England, Alnwick, Newcastle, Durham, Bishop-Aukland, Leeds, &c. and came to London about the end of October.

He now talked of going over again to America, where his affairs were in a good situation:

Blessed be God (says he) that I can send you word, a ne|ver-failing Providence hath put it into my power to pay off all Bethesda's arrears. I am talking every day of coming over; but how to do it in war-time, or how to get the Chapel and Taber|nacle supplied, I cannot as yet be clear in† 2.175.

Not being able, it seems, to get over these difficulties, he continued all winter 1758 in London, and above the middle of May 1759, opened his spring campaign at Bristol. In the month of June he was in Glou|cestershire and Yorkshire, where people, high and

low, rich and poor flocked, as usual, to hear him, twice a day* 2.176; and from thence re-visited Scotland.

CHAP. XVIII. From his Arrival at EDINBURGH 1759, to his opening Lady HUNTINGDON's CHAPEL at BATH, in the Year 1765.

ABOUT the beginning of July 1759, he came to Edinburgh. His congregations here and at Glasgow were very large, and very attentive, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 formerly* 2.177. But he complains in his letters,

that with respect to the power of religion, it was a dead time in Scotland in comparison with Lon|don, and several other parts of England† 2.178.

His visit to Scotland this year, gave occasion to a passage, which was much for his honour, and a full confutation of the mercenary motives ascribed to him by some of his adversaries. One Miss Hunter, a young Lady of considerable fortune, made a full offer to him of her estate, both money and lands, amount|ing to about seven thousand pounds, which he gene|rously refused. And upon his refusing it for himself, she offered it to him for the benefit of his orphan-house in Georgia, which he also absolutely refused. These facts the compiler has from undoubted au|thority.

He spent the winter‡ 2.179 in London, and got his chapel enlarged.

March 14, 1760, he made a collection at his Chapel and Tabernacle, of above four hundred pounds, for the distressed Prussians, who had suffered so much from the cruelty of the Russians, at Newmark, Costrin, &c.§ 2.180.

In summer 1760, he went into Gloucestershire and Wales, and from thence to Bristol. When he preach|ed at the Tabernacle in Bristol, there were more in the evenings than it could well hold; and in the fields his congregations consisted of not less than ten thousand‖ 2.181.

He now began to undergo a new kind of persecu|tion (which however has sometimes fallen upon men of the greatest eminence) that of being mimick|ed and burlesqued upon the stage* 2.182. His ene|mies had in vain used violence against him, and hav|ing found that the law would not suffer them to pro|ceed in that way, they therefore thought they would try what they could do by mockery. For this pur|pose, they got for their tool one Samuel Foote, a mimic, who having had some success in imitating Mr. Whitefield's person, and speaking a few ludi|crous sentences in his manner, was encouraged to pro|ceed farther, and to write a farce (called the Minor) to be acted at the Theatre in Drury-Lane† 2.183. This performance is otherwise very dull and uninteresting; but by its impiety, it cannot fail of exciting the in|dignation of the religious and sober-minded. For, in order to expose Mr. Whitefield to contempt, the au|thor makes no scruple to treat the very expressions and sentiments of the Bible with ridicule; or (to put the most favourable construction upon the matter) he and those whom he sent to the Tabernacle and Cha|pel to procure materials, were so little acquainted with the sacred writings as not to know, that what they took for Mr. Whitefield's peculiar language, was the language of the word of God.

Be this as it may, they lost their labour, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they were so far from lestening the number of his congre|gations, that they increased them; and brought thou|sands of new persons to hear the gospel; which was the very thing he always aimed at: and thus Provi|dence gave him the victory over them.

Mr. Foote being manager of the Edinburgh Thea|tre in winter 1770, the Minor was acted there. The first night it was pretty throng, as people fond of any novelty were led to it without knowing any thing of the nature of the performance. But (such was the public sense of the impurity and indecency of it when known) that on the second night, only ten women appeared. When it was acted on Saturday, November 24, a dispute arose among the spectators, whether it was proper to bring Mr. Whitefield upon the stage, as he was now dead? This, however, was done; and raised a general indignation in the inha|bitants of that city. Next day several Ministers (the Rev. Dr. Erskine, Dr. Walker, &c.) took notice of it in their discourses from the pulpit. Dr. Walker (whose church is frequented by the people of higher rank) observed in his lecture upon 2 Cor. v.14-21, that he could not read the 17th verse,

If any man be in Christ he is a new creature,

without expres|sing the just indignation he felt, upon hearing that last night a profane piece of buffoonery was public|ly acted, in which this sacred doctrine is ridiculed.— Mr. Baine, of the Kirk of Relief, preached a sermon upon the occasion, December 2, from Psalm xciv.16,

Who will rise up for me against the evil doers? or who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity?

which was published and sold off in a few days. Towards the conclusion of the sermon, he says,

How base and ungrateful is such treat|ment of the dead; and that too so very nigh to a family of orphans, the records of whose hospital

will transmit Mr. Whitefield's name to posterity with honour, when the memory of others will not. How illiberal such usage of one, whose seasonable good services for his King and Country are well known; whose indefatigable labours for his be|loved Master were countenanced by Heaven.

March 14, 1760, Mr. Whitefield preached at the Chapel from Hos. xi.8, 9. and at the Tabernacle in the evening, from the 80th Psalm and last verse. At the former place he collected two hundred and twenty-two pounds eight shillings and nine pence; and at the other, one hundred and eighty-two pounds fifteen shillings and nine pence, for the distressed Protestants in Prussia. No man was a more strict observer of public occurren|ces, or more endeavoured to improve them.

In the months of September and October 1760, he made a tour through Yorkshire; and was in London during the winter, employed as usual. On the fast-day, Feb. 13, 1761, he preached early in the morn|ing at the Tabernacle on Exod. xxxiv.1, &c. and collected one hundred and twelve pounds; in the forenoon he laboured at the Chapel, and discoursed on Joel ii.15. and afterwards collected two hundred and forty-two pounds; and in the evening he preach|ed at the Tabernacle from Gen. vii.1. and collected two hundred and ten pounds. These sums were im|mediately applied to the noble purposes for which they were collected, the relief of the German Protes|tants, and the sufferers by fire at Boston* 2.184.

But his health, which had often been very bad* 2.185, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grew worse, so that in April 1761, he was brought to the gates of death. After his recovery, being still weak, and not able to preach as formerly, he left London, and made a visit to Bristol, Exeter, and Plymouth, by which he found himself somewhat better; but could not bear long journies and fre|quent preaching as he used to do† 2.186.

October 1761, he complains,

I have not preach|ed a single sermon for some weeks. Last Sunday I spoke a little; but I feel its effects ever since. A sea voyage seems more necessary to me now than ever.—I know now what nervous disorders are. Blessed be God that they were contracted in his service; I do not repent—though I am frequent|ly tempted to wish the report of my death had been true, since my disorder keeps me from my old de|lightful work of preaching‡ 2.187.

In a journey to

Leeds and Newcastle this month, he could bear riding in a post-chaise, but preached seldom, his friends being so prudent as not to press him 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I hope, however, says he, I am travelling in order to preach* 2.188. Accordingly, he prolonged his jour|ney the length of Edinburgh and Glasgow, and did not return to London till the month of Decem|ber; when he found himself considerably better, which (under God) he attributed to his following the simple prescriptions of four eminent physicians in Edinburgh; being sensible, as he said, that their advice had been more blessed, for his recovery, than all the medicines and directions he had elsewhere† 2.189.

As soon as his health was in some measure restored, he fell to his beloved work again. From Bristol, A|pril 1762, he writes,

Bristol air agrees with me. I have been enabled to preach five times, this last week, without being hurt. Who knows but I may yet be restored so far as to sound the gospel trumpet for my God? The quietness I enjoy here, with daily riding out, seems to be one very proper means‡ 2.190.

He continued thus to preach four or five times a week, notwithstanding his weakness, till about the middle of May; and was sometimes enabled to "take the field," as he expresses it, which gave him great joy;

Mounts says he, are the best pul|pits, and the heavens the best sounding boards. O for power equal to my will! I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the everlasting gospel of the Son of God§ 2.191.

When he returned to Lon|don, the cares and labours that thronged upon him were ready to bring him low again. In the month of July, therefore, he made a voyage to Holland, and preached four times at Rotterdam: he found himself much better, and writes from Norwich, July 31,

The expedition to Holland, was, I trust, profitable

to myself and others; and if ever my usefulness is to be continued at London, I must be prepared for it by a longer itineration both by land and water. At present, blessed be God, I can preach once a day; and it would do your heart good to see what an influence attends the word. All my old times are revived again* 2.192.

August 18, he arrived at Edinburgh, made a visit to Glasgow, where he preached every day (and twice at Cambuslang) and continued preaching once a day at Edinburgh till September 13, when he returned to England: and was glad (now that peace was expect|ed) of the prospect of embarking soon for America.

While in England, he found that preaching once a day did not hurt him, but dared not venture oftener. At Leeds, Bristol and Plymouth, he had very desirable seasons; but with respect to London, he says,

† 2.193 As affairs are circumstanced, every thing there tends to weigh me down.

Having therefore persuaded some of his intimate friends, as trustees, to take upon them the whole care of the affairs of his Chapel and Tabernacle, and all his other concerns at home; he resolved to sail from Greenock in Scotland. On his way thither, in the month of March, 1765, he preach|ed at Everton, Leeds, Aberford, Kippax, and New|castle; and was also employed in writing his Obser|vations, &c. in answer to Bishop Warburton‡ 2.194.

When he came to Scotland, he continued to preach once a day, for some weeks; but being taken ill of his old disorder at Edinburgh, he was obliged to be silent (for the most part) for near six weeks after|wards. At last, in the beginning of June, he em|barked the sixth time for America, in the ship Fanny, Captain Archibald Galbreath, bound from Greenock to Virginia: where (after a voyage of twelve weeks)

he arrived in the latter end of August.

Thanks to a never failing Redeemer, I have not been laid by an hour through sickness, since I came on board— A kind Captain, and a most orderly and quiet ship's company, who gladly attended when I had breath to preach. Scarce an oath have I heard upon deck—and such a stillness through the whole ship, both on week-days and the Lord's day, as hath from time to time surprized me* 2.195.

His letters in September, October, and November 1763, are dated from Philadelphia. He found him|self still an invalid; yet made a shift to preach twice a week,

Here, says he, are some young bright witnesses rising up in the church. Perhaps I have already converted with forty new creature Mini|sters of various denominations. Sixteen hopeful students, I am credibly informed, were converted at New-Jersey College last year. What an open door, if I had strength! Last Tuesday we had a remarkable season among the Lutherans; children and grown people were much impressed† 2.196.

He wanted much to go forward to Georgia, but the physicians were absolutely against it, till he got more strength. In the latter end of November he set out from Philadelphia for New-York, and on his way preached several times at New-Jersey College and Elizabeth-Town, with much acceptance. His spirits now grew better, and he could sometimes preach thrice a week‡ 2.197. While he continued at New-York during the winter, he writes,

Prejudices in this place have most strangely subsided. The better sort stock as eagerly as the common people, and are fond of coming for private gospel-conversation.—Congre|gations continue very large, and I trust saving im|pressions are made upon many§ 2.198.

New-York, January 23, 1764. The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield has spent seven weeks with us, preaching twice a week to more general acceptance than ever; and been treated with great respect by many of the Gentlemen and Merchants of this place. During his stay, he preached two charity sermons; the one on the occasion of the annual collection for the poor, in which double the sum was collected that ever was upon the like occasion; the other was for the benefit of Mr. Wheelock's Indian school at Lebanon, in New-England, for which he collected (notwithstanding the present prejudices of many people against the Indians) the sum of one hundred and twenty pounds. In his last sermon he took a very affectionate leave of the people of this city, who expressed great concern at his departure. May God restore this great and good man (in whom the Gentleman, the Christian and accomplished Orator shine forth with such pe|culiar lustre) to a perfect state of health, and conti|nue him long a blessing to the world, and the church of Christ* 2.199.

After leaving New-York, he preached at East-Hampton, Bridge-Hampton, and South-Hold, upon Long-Island; at Shelter-Island also; and at New-London, Norwich, and Providence on the Main Land. Then proceeded to Boston, where he arrived in the latter end of February 1764, and was received with usual warmth of affection† 2.200. But as the small|pox was spreading through the town, he chose to preach for a while in the adjacent places. At New|bury a great influence attended his preaching. He writes from Concord to his friend Mr. S— S—,

How would you have been delighted to have seen Mr. Wheelock's Indians? Such a promising nur|sery of future missionaries, I believe, was never seen in New-England before; pray encourage it

with all your might. I also wish you could give some useful puritanical books to Harvard College Library lately burnt down* 2.201.

In the month of April he had a return of his dis|order; but it did not long keep him from preaching: and the Boston people were exceedingly eager to hear. He was thinking to proceed immediately southward, but they sent after him, and persuaded him to come back. June 1, 1764, he writes,

Friends have even constrained me to stay here, for fear of running in|to the summer's heat. Hitherto I find the benefit of it. Whatever it is owing to, through mercy I am much better in health than I was this time twelve months, and can now preach thrice a week to very large auditories, without hurt. And every day I hear of some brought under concern.—This is all of grace† 3.1.

After a very sorrowful parting, he left Boston, and came back to New-York, from whence his letters are dated from the end of June till the latter end of Au|gust.

At present, says he, my health is better than usual, and as yet I have felt no inconvenience from the summer's heat.—I have preached twice lately in the fields, and we sat under the blessed Redeem|er's shadow with great delight.—My late excursi|ons upon Long-Island, I trust, have been blessed. It would surprize you to see above one hundred carriages at every sermon in this new world* 3.2.

In September and October he was at Philadelphia; the provost of the college there read prayers for him. Both the present and late Governor, with the principal Gentlemen of the city attended, and thanks were sent to him from the Trustees, for speaking for the chari|ty-children, and countenancing the institution† 3.3.

From Philadelphia he proceeded southward through Virginia. And November 22, at New-Brunswick in Carolina, he writes,

At Newburn last Sunday good impressions were made—From that place to this I have met with what they call New-Lights‡ 3.4 lmost every stage.—I have the names of six or eight of their preachers. This, with every other place, being open and exceedingly desirous to hear the Gospel, makes me almost determine to come back early in the spring.

After preaching at Charlestown, he arrived at Sa|vannah in December, where he found affairs prosper|ing to his wish. "The colony," says he,

is rising fast; nothing but plenty at Bethesda, and all arrears, I trust, will be paid off before I leave it; so that

in a short time I hope to be free from these outward incumbrances‡ 3.5.

And he was not disappointed his expectations; for he writes,

Bethesda, Jan|nuary 14, 1765, God hath given me great favour in the sight of the Governor, council, and assem|bly. A memorial was presented for an additional grant of lands, consisting of two thousand acres. It was immediately complied with. Both houses ad|dressed the Governor in behalf of the intended col|lege. As warm an answer was given* 3.6. Every heart seems to leap for joy at the prospect of its future utility† 3.7.

—Again. "Bethesda, Febru|ary 13.‡ 3.8

Yesterday morning the Governor and Lord J. A. G—n, with several other Gentle|men, favoured me with their company to breakfast. But how was my Lord surprized and delighted! After expressing himself in the strongest terms, he took me aside, and informed me, that the Governor had shewed him the accounts, by which he found what a great benefactor I had been; that the in|tended college would be of the utmost utility, to this and the neighbouring provinces; that the plan was beautiful, rational, and practicable; and that he was persuaded his Majesty would highly ap|prove of, and also favour it, with some peculiar marks of his royal bounty.

He adds, in the same letter,

Now farewell, my beloved Bethesda; surely the most delightful situ|ated place in all the southern parts in America.— What a blessed winter have I had! Peace, and love, and harmony, and plenty reign here. Mr. W—t hath done much in a little time. All are

surprized at it. But he hath worked night and day, and not stirred a mile for many weeks.

Having left Bethesda in such comfortable circum|stances, February 18,* 3.9 he delayed his proposed to•• to the northward, and thought it best to embark directly for England, to finish the affair about the col|lege. He spent some time, however, at Charlestown in the month of March, and after a very affectionate parting, set out for Philadelphia, preaching as he went along in several places† 3.10: but no ship offering at Philadelphia, he sailed from New-York in the Earl of Halifax pacquet, and arrived once more in Eng|land, July 5, 1765‡ 3.11.

After his arrival he found himself still very weak in body, and obliged to go on much more slowly than he used to do. Yet this did not discourage him from doing what he could, in hopes of soon entering into his rest.

O to end life well! (says he) Methinks I have now but one more river to pass over. And

we know of one that can carry us over, without being ankle deep* 3.12.

October 6, he was called to open Lady Hunting|don's chapel at Bath† 3.13, when he preached from 2 Cor. vi.16.

CHAP. XIX. From his opening Lady HUNTINGDON's Chapel at BATH, to his embarking for AMERICA in the Year 1769.

AFTER preaching some little time at Bath, he returned to London, from whence, January 18, 1766, he writes* 3.14 to a friend at Sheerness,

I am sorry to acquaint you, that it is not in my power to comply with your request. For want of more as|sistance, I am confined in town with the care of two important posts, when I am only fit to be put into some garrison among the invalids.

But he was relieved, for a little space, early in the spring; for we find him in the month of March at Bath and Bristol.

March 17, he says,

The uncertainty of my motions hath made me slow in writing; and a de|sire to be a while free from London cares, hath

made me indifferent about frequent hearing from thence.—Last Friday evening, and twice yester|day† 3.15, I preached at Bath to very thronged and brilliant auditories.

About this time, the Stamp Act was repealed; on which occasion he greatly exulted. The interest of the colonies always lay near his heart, and he hoped this step would restore peace and happiness to his country. In his letter book is the following sentence, "March 16, 1766, Stamp Act repealed, Gloria Deo."

Mr. Occum, an Indian preacher, and Mr. Whit|aker, came over from America to sollicit contributions for Mr. Wheelock's Indian school, an institution which Mr. Whitefield greatly approved. Concern|ing this he writes,‡ 3.16 London, April 15,

The pro|spect of a large and effectual door opening among the Heathens, blessed be God, is very promising. Mr. Occum is a settled, humble christian: the good and great, with a multitude of a lower degree, heard him preach last week at Tottenham-court Chapel, and felt much of the power and presence of our common Lord. Mr. R—n hath preach|ed, and collected one hundred pounds; and I be|lieve seven or eight hundred pounds more are sub|scribed. The truly noble Lord D—h espouses the cause most heartily, and his Majesty is become a contributor. The King of kings, and Lord of all Lords, will bless them for it§ 3.17.

June 19, we find him at Collam near Bristol, from whence* he writes,

As my feverish heat conti|nues,

and the weather is too wet to travel, I have complied with the advice of friends, and have com|menced a hot-well water drinker twice a day. However, twice this week, at six in the morning, I have been enabled to call thirsty souls to come and drink of the water of life freely. To-morrow evening, God willing, the call is to be repeated, and again on Sunday.

He was also at Bath and Bristol in the month of November this year. At Bristol he preached to a ve|ry crowded auditory (though the weather was exceed|ing bad) and administred the sacrament; and at Bath he preached to the most numerous assembly of the no|bility he had ever seen attend there.

In the month of January 1767, he wrote a recom|mendatory preface to a new edition of Bunyan's works; which is inserted with his Tracts in vol. IV. and March 20, he was called to open Lady Hunting|don's new chapel at Brighthelmstone in Sussex, when he preached on 2 Peter iii.18.

After an excursion to Norwich, in April 1767, he says,

I fear my spring and summer fever is return|ing. If so, my intended plan of operations will be much contracted. But future things belong to Him who orders all things well† 3.18.

Yet the very month we find him preaching at Rod|borough, Gloucester, and Haverford-West in Wales; from whence he writes, May 31,

Thousands and thousands attended by eight in the morning. Life and light seemed to fly all around. On Tuesday, God willing, I am to preach at Woodstock; on Friday at Pembroke; here again next Sunday by eight, and then for England‡ 3.19

And when he returned to Gloucester, June 10, "Blessed be God," says he,

I am got on this side the Welch moun|tains. Blessed be God, I have been on the other side. What a scene last Sunday! What a cry

for more of the bread of life; but I was quite worn down† 3.20.

September 11. he was at Leeds, having preached at Northampton and Sheffield in the way; and Sep|tember 20, at Newcastle, from whence he writes,

‡ 3.21I have now a blessed Methodist field-street-preaching plan before me. This afternoon in the Castle-Garth, to-morrow for Sunderland, then to Yarm, &c.—I have been enabled to preach in the street at several places, and hope to go to Gesborough, Whitby, Scarborough, New-Malton, York, Leeds, Liverpool, Chester, Manchester, &c.

Again (from Thirsk, September 28) My body feels

much fatigued in travelling; comforts in the soul over-ballance.

—And (Leeds, October 3)

Field and street preaching hath rather bottered than hurt bodily my health.

This winter his negociations about the intended college at Bethesda, came to an issue. A memorial, addressed to his Majesty, was put into the hands of the clerk of the privy council, setting forth the great utility of a college in that place to the inhabitants of the southern provinces, and praying that a charter might be granted upon the plan of the college at New-Jersey. This memorial was by him transmit|ted to the Lord President, and by his Lordship refer|red to the consideration of the Archbishop of Canter|bury, to whom also a draft of an intended charter was presented by the Earl of D—h. Upon which an epistolary correspondence ensued betwixt the Arch|bishop and Mr. Whitefield; the sum of which was, the Archbishop put the draft of the charter in the hands of the Lord P. who promised to consider it and gave it as his opinion, that

the head of the college ought to be a member of the Church of English of

That this was a qualification not to be dispensed with. And also that the public prayers should not be extempore ones, but the liturgy of the church, or some other settled and established form.

Mr. Whitefield answered, he could not agree to either of these restrictions, because the greatest part of the Orphan-house collections and contributions came from dissenters; and because he had frequently de|clared the intended college was to be founded upon

a broad bottom, and no other. This, says he, I judged I was sufficiently warranted to do, from the known, long established, mild, and uncoercive genius of the English government; also from your grace's moderation towards protestant dissenters; from the unconquerable attachment of the Ameri|cans to toleration-principles, as well as from the avowed habitual feelings and sentiments of my own heart. This being the case,—and as your grace by your silence seems to be like-minded with the Lord P—t; and as your grace's and his lordship's influence will undoubtedly extend it|self to others, I would beg leave, after returning all due acknowledgments, to inform your grace that I intend troubling your grace and his lord|ship no more about this so long depending con|cern. As it hath pleased the great head of the church in some degree to renew my bodily strength, I purpose now to renew my feeble efforts, and turn the charity into a more generous, and consequently into a more extensively useful chan|nel. I have no ambition to be looked upon as the founder of a college; but I would fain act the part of an honest man, a disinterested Minister of Jesus Christ, and a truly catholic, moderate pres|byter of the church of England* 3.22.

Accordingly he resolved, in the mean time, to add a public academy to the Orphan-house, like what was done at Philadelphia, before its college charter was granted; and to wait for a more favourable op|portunity of making fresh application, for a charter upon a broad bottom.

October 28. he preached at the Tabernacle, to the Society for promoting Religious Knowledge among the poor, when the collection amounted to above a hundred pounds, (about four times as much as usual) and eighty persons became new subscribers.

His text was, Luke xi.2. "Thy kingdom come." The place was quite full, and many went away for want of room. A great number of dissenting Minis|ters were present; probably, more than ever before met to hear a church Clergyman preach. He after|wards dined with the Ministers and whole company at Draper's-Hall, where he was treated with great re|spect. All was very harmonious, and gave him great pleasure in reflection† 3.23.

In the beginning of the year 1768, six pious stu|dents were expelled from Edmund-Hall, in Oxford, for using extempore prayer, reading and singing hymns, and exhorting one another in private religi|ous meetings. Upon this occasion, Mr. Whitefield

wrote his letter to Dr. Durell, Vicechancellor of the university‡ 3.24.

In the summer, he went once more to Edinburgh, where his Orphan-house-Park congregations were as large, attentive, and affectionate as ever§ 3.25.

August 3. soon after his return to London, Mrs. Whitefield was attacked with an inflammatory fever, and the 9th of August she died. The 14th of the month he preached her funeral sermon, from Rom. viii.20: and September 12. he writes,

I have been in hopes of my own departure. Through hard rid|ing, and frequent preaching, I have burst a vein. The flux is in a great measure stopped, but rest and quietness are strictly enjoined. We were fa|voured with glorious Gospel-gales this day fort|night, and several preceding days, at opening good Lady Huntingdon's chapel, and place of pious edu|cation in Wales† 3.26.

September 26. he writes concerning his friend and fellow-labourer Mr. Middleton:

He is now made perfectly whole. He was buried from the Taber|nacle last Wednesday evening, and a subscription is

opened for his four orphans. In the midst of his torturing pains, being asked by his daughter, How he was? He answered, 'A heaven upon earth.' Soon afterwards he fell asleep in Jesus* 3.27.

From his letters dated in November and December, it appears he was in a very poor state of health, yet still continued to preach, as often as he was able.

Bristol, November 12. Last night, I hope, the Redeemer manifested forth his glory. Friday even|ing, and the following Sunday, I shall preach at Bath. In three weeks I expect to reach London, except called before that period, to reside at the New Jerusalem. The pleasing prospect lies day and night open before me.† 3.28

Next spring, 1769, he seems to have recovered a little; for we find him preaching more frequently. It gave him great pleasure to see some more of the nobility joined to Lady H—n's society.

Some more coronets, I hear, are likely to be laid at the Redeemer's feet. They glitter gloriously when set in, and surrounded with a crown of thorns‡ 3.29.

In the month of May he preached at Kingswood, Bristol, Bradford, Frome, Chippenham, Rodborough, Castlecomb, Dursley. But deferred his western circuit on account of the opening the Chapel at Tunbridge§ 3.30.

July 23, 1769, he opened Lady Huntingdon's New Chapel at Tunbridge Wells. Preached from Gen. xxviii.17.

This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.

In the evening, the congregation being too large to be con|tained in the chapel, he preached out of doors, from a mount in the court before the chapel; after which he gave a general exhortation; and next day admi|nistered the sacrament, and preached from 1 Thess. ii.11, 12.

Now he seriously began to prepare for another voy|age; and in the beginning of September he embark|ed

the seventh and last time for America, in the Friendship, Capt. Ball.

I am comforted on every side. A civil Captain and passengers. All willing to attend on divine worship, and to hear religious things* 3.31.

CHAP. XX. From his last embarking for AMERICA, to his Death, September 30, 1770.

MR. Whitefield was detained near a month in the Downs by contrary winds * 3.32; but he improv|ed his time, as usual, in writing many excellent let|ters, preaching on board; and sometimes came ashore and preached both at Deal and Ramsgate.

The following extract of Mr. Whitefield's Manu|script Journal, relative to this period, cannot be unac|ceptable.

Saturday, Sept. 2. Had a most awful parting sea|son at Tottenham-Court-Chapel sacrament, last Sunday morning, the sermon from Gen. xxviii. 12. And the same at Tabernacle (which was more than full) on Wednesday morning at seven o'clock. This day dined at my worthy, fast, and tried friend Mr. Keen's; and having comfortably settled and left all my outward concerns in his hands, I took an affectionate leave, and in company with some dear friends, this evening reached Gravesend; where others met us. We supped and conversed together in some degree, I trust, like persons who

hoped, ere long, to sit down together at the mar|riage feast of the supper of the Lamb.—Hasten, O Lord, that wished for time!

Sunday, September 3. Preached this morning at the Methodist Tabernacle from John xiii. verse 32. The congregation was not very large. But God gave me great freedom of speech, and made it indeed a house of God, and gate of Heaven. In the afternoon I preached in the market-place from Gen. iii. verse 13. to a much larger, but not more devout auditory. In the out-skirts, as might naturally be expected, some were a little noisy, but a great body was very attentive, and I was enabled to lift up my voice like a trumpet. The remain|der of the evening was spent as the night before, with my christian London friends; who with me, less than the least of all, exceedingly rejoiced at the opportunity of a parting street-market-place preach|ing, where, I trust, some pennyless bankrupt sin|ners were made willing to buy Gospel wine and milk, without money, and without price.—May the great day show that this hope was not altoge|ther ill-grounded!

Monday, September 4. Had my dear christian friends on board to breakfast with me this morning. Conversation was sweet, but parting was bitter. 'What mean you (said the Apostle) to weep and break my heart?' However, through infinite mer|cy, I was helped to bear up, and after their depar|ture the Divine Presence made up the loss of all, even with new creature comforts. Lord, if this Divine Presence go not with, and accompany me all the way, for thy infinite mercies sake, suffer me not to go one step farther.

"But I believe thy promise Lord, Oh! help my unbelief.

Tuesday, September 5. The Captain not com|ing down as was expected, we did not weigh an|chor till this morning's ebb.

The winds being contrary, and the weather hazy, we did not arrive in the Downs till the Fri|day following. Interim, I had the opportunity of conversing a little with the pilot, and steerage pas|sengers. All attended divine worship very orderly, and thanked me for my offer of lending them books, and giving them what assistance lay in my power towards making their voyage comfortable. All seemed thankful, and the pilot parted with tears in his eyes.—May the great, and never-failing pilot, the Almighty Jesus, renew us, and take us all in|to his holy protection, and then all must necessarily end in our safe arrival into the haven of eternal rest!

Tuesday, September 12. Preached last Sunday morning to my little flock on board, and was most agreeably surprized to-day, with a kind unexpected visit from the Rev. Dr. Gibbons. His discourse was very friendly and devout.

Wednesday, September 13. I went ashore and attended on an ordination solemnity, at the dissent|ing meeting. Several Ministers officiated. Several very important questions were asked, and answered before, and a solemn charge given after, imposition of hands. But the prayer put up in the very act of laying on of hands, by Dr. Gibbons, was so af|fecting, and the looks and behaviour of those that joined so serious and solemn, that I hardly know when I was more struck under any one's ministrati|on. The ordination being over, at the desire of the Ministers, and Gentlemen, I went and dined with them. Our conversation was edifying. And being informed, that many were desirous to hear me preach, I willingly complied, and I trust some seed was sown the same evening at Deal, which, by God's heavenly blessing, will spring up to life eternal. The people of Deal seemed very civil, and some came to me who had not forgotten my

preaching to them, and their deceased friends and parents, thirty-two years ago.

Friday, September 14. 15. I had received most pressing invitations to visit Ramsgate, many weeks ago. These were now repeated by many of that place, who came to the ordination at Deal; so there was no resisting their importunity. We reach|ed Ramsgate about two, took some refreshment, and there I preached about four, not to a very large, but an attentive and affected auditory. This I did al|so the morning following; and was most agreeable entertained with the discourse, and good memory of one, in particular, who had been my fellow-passenger, and frequent hearer many years ago, in the Wilmington, Captain Darling, bound to Pis|cataway in New-England. The people's behaviour here was so undissembledly generous, frank, genteel, and christian, that I know not where I have been more pleased and delighted. Being quite uneasy, lest by staying longer I should be unready, if the wind should turn favourable, I went early on Sun|day morning to Deal, and from thence immediate|ly on board, and preached in the afternoon. This morning came a surreptitious copy of my Taber|nacle Farewell Sermon, taken, as the short-hand writer professes, verbatim, as I spoke it. But surely he is mistaken. The whole is so injudiciously paragraphed, and so wretchedly unconnected, that I owe no thanks to the misguided, though it may be well-meant zeal of the writer and publisher, be they who they will. But such conduct is an una|voidable tax upon popularity. And all that appear for Jesus Christ, and his blessed Gospel, much like their master, expect to suffer from the false fire of professing friends, as well as secret malice of avow|ed enemies. However, if any one sentence is bles|sed to the conviction of one sinner, or the edificati|on of any individual saint, I care not what becomes

of my character, though I would always pray to be preserved from bringing upon myself, or others, needless, unnecessary contempt.

Monday, September 25. Weighed anchor last Tuesday morning, with a small favourable gale and fine weather. So many ships which had lain in the Downs, moving at the same time, and gent|ly gliding by us, together with the prospect of the adjacent shore, made a most agreeable scene. But it proved only a very transient one. For by that time we got to Fairlee, the wind backened, clouds gathered, very violent gales succeeded, and for se|veral days we were so tossed, that after coming over against Brighthelmstone, the Captain rightly judging, turned back, (as did many other ships) and anchored over against New Rumsey and Dungeness.—Lord, in thine own time, thou wilt give the winds a commission to carry us forward towards our desired port.

At last they got out of the Channel, and on the 30th of November, arrived at Charlestown, in South-Caro|lina. It had been a dangerous and trying passage; yet, on his arrival, he found himself in better health than at the end of any voyage he had made for several years; and the same day that he came ashore, he preached at Charlestown, where his recep|tion was as hearty, or heartier than ever.

For the last week (November 1769) we were beating about our port, within sight of it, and confined for two days in five-fathom-hole, just over the bar. A dangerous situation, as the wind blew hard, and our ship, like a young christian, for want of more bal|last, would not obey the helm. But through in|finite mercy, on November 30, a pilot-boat came and took us safe ashore to Charlestown, after being on board almost thirteen weeks. Friends received me most cordially.—Praise the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his mercies. Oh, to begin to be a christian, and Minister of Jesus.* 3.33

Here Mr. Wright came to meet him, and acquaint|ed him that all was in great forwardness at Bethesda. And when he arrived there, he writes,

January, 1770. Every thing exceeds my most sanguine expectations. And the increase of this colony is almost incredible † 3.34.

The great regard which the colony of Georgia thought themselves bound to express towards Mr. Whitefield, at this time particularly, appears from the following authentic papers.

Commons House of Assembly, Monday, Janu|ary 29, 1770.

Mr. Speaker reported, that he with the House having waited on the Rev. Mr. White|field, in consequence of his invitation, at the Or|phan-house Academy; heard him preach a very suitable and pious sermon on the occasion; and with great pleasure observed the promising appear|ance of improvement, towards the good purposes intended, and the decency and propriety of beha|viour of the several residents there; and were sen|sibly affected, when they saw the happy success which has attended Mr. Whitefield's indefatig|able zeal for promoting the welfare of the pro|vince in general, and the Orphan-house in parti|cular. Ordered, That this report be printed in the Gazette.

John Simpson, Clerk.

Extract from the Georgia Gazette.

Savannah, January 31, 1770. Last Sunday, his Excellency the Governor, Council, and Assembly, having been

invited by the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, attend|ed at divine service in the Chapel of the Orphan-house Academy, where prayers were read by the Rev. Mr. Ellington, and a very suitable sermon was preached by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield from Zecha|riah iv. 10. 'For who hath despised the day of small things?' to the general satisfaction of the auditory; in which he took occasion to mention the many discouragements he met with, well known to many there, in carrying on this instituti|on for upwards of thirty years past, and the present promising prospect of its future and more extensive usefulness. After divine service, the company were very politely entertained with a handsome and plentiful dinner; and were greatly pleased to see the useful improvements made in the house, the two additional wings for apartments for students, one hundred and fifty feet each in length, and other lesser buildings, in so much forwardness, and the whole executed with taste, and in a masterly manner; and being sensible of the truly generous and disinterested benefactions derived to the pro|vince through his means, they expressed their gra|titude in the most respectful terms.

Soon after this he writes from Charlestown, Febru|ary 10.

Through mercy, I enjoy a greater share of bodily health than I have known for many years. I am now enabled to preach almost every day. Blessed be God, all things are in great forwardness at Bethesda. I have conversed with the Governor, concerning an Act of Assembly, for the establish|ment of the intended Orphan-house College* 4.1.

He most readily consents. I have shown him a draught, which he much approves of; and all will be finished at my return from the northward. In the mean while the buildings will be carried on.

He adds,

* 4.2 Since my being in Charlestown, I have shewn the draught to some persons of great eminence and influence. They highly approve of it, and willingly consent to be some of the War|dens. Near twenty are to be of Georgia, and about six of this place; one of Philadelphia; one of New-York; one of Boston; three of Edin|burgh; two of Glasgow; and six of London. Those of Georgia and South Carolina, are to be qualified; the others, to be only honourary corre|sponding Wardens.

His letters of a later date are in the same strain, full of expressions of gratitude to Providence for the good state of his health † 4.3, and how exceedingly happy he was at Bethesda ‡ 4.4. And of his purpose, (after he had travelled in the northern parts all summer) to return to his beloved Bethesda, late in the fall § 4.5. But this event never happened.

From Philadelphia, May 24 ‖ 4.6, he writes,

I have now been here near three weeks. People of all ranks flock as much as ever. Impressions are made on many, and, I trust they will abide. Notwithstanding I preach twice on the Lord's day, and three or

four times a week besides, yet I am rather better than I have been for many years.

Again, Philadelphia, June 14,

* 4.7 This leaves me just returned from a one hundred and fifty miles circuit, in which, blessed be God, I have been enabled to preach every day. So many invitations are sent from various quarters, that I know not which way to turn myself.

And, New-York, June 30, † 4.8

Next week I pur|pose to go to Albany. From thence, perhaps, to the Oneida Indians. There is to be a very large Indian congress. Mr. Kirkland accompanies me. He is a truly christian Minister and Missionary. Every thing possible should be done to strengthen his hands.—Perhaps I may not see Georgia till Christmas.

In his memorandum-book is the fol|lowing remark:

July 2, 1770. Sailed from New-York with Mr. Kirkland, and two kind old friends, and arrived at Albany, July 6. Was kindly received by Mr. Bays and Domine Westaloe. Preached the same evening, and went the next day to see the Cohoes Falls, twelve miles from Albany. O thou wonder-working God! Preached twice on the Lord's day at Albany, and the next day at Schenectady, and was struck at the delightful ••|ation of the place. Heard aftewards that the word ran, and was glorified both there and at Albany. Grace, Grace!

And again, from New-York, July 29, he writes, ‡ 4.9

During this month I have been above a five hun|dred miles circuit, and have been enabled to preach and travel through the heat every day. The congregations have been very large, attentive, and affected, particularly at Albany, Schenectady, Great Bamington, Norfolk, Salisbury, Sharon, Smithfield, Powkeepsie, Fish-Kill, New-Rumbart, New-Wind|sor,

and Pecks-Kill.—Invitations crowd upon me both from Ministers and people, from many, ma|ny quarters.—I hope to set out for Boston in two or three days.

When he was at Boston, September 17, he writes to Mr. W—t at Bethesda,

* 4.10 Fain would I con|trive to come by Captain Souder from Philadelphia, but people are so importunate for my stay in these parts, that I fear it will be impracticable.—Two or three evenings ago, I was taken in the night with a violent lax, attended with reaching and shi|vering—but through mercy I am restored, and to|morrow morning hope to begin again.—I hope it hath been well with you, and all my family; hop|ing, ere long to see you, &c.

And lastly, to his dear friend Mr. R— K—n in London. Portsmouth, New-Hampshire, Sept. 23,

† 4.11 By this time I thought to be moving southward; but never was greater importunity used to detain me longer in these northern parts. Poor New-England is much to be pitied: Boston people most of all. How grossly misrepresented!—You will see by the many invitations, what a door is opened for preaching the everlasting Gospel. I was so ill on Friday, that I could not preach, though thou|sands were waiting to hear. Well! the day of re|lease will shortly come; but it does not seem yet: for by riding sixty miles I am better, and hope to preach here to morrow.—If spared so long, I hope to see Georgia about Christmas.—Still pray and praise.—Hoping to see all dear friends about the time proposed, and earnestly desiring a continued interest in all your prayers, &c.

From the 17th the 20th of Sept. he preached daily at Boston; Sept. 20, at Newton: Sept. 21, he set out from Boston upon a tour to the eastward, pretty much indisposed: preached at Portsmouth and New-Hampshire,

Sept. 23: And from that to the 29th, continued preaching every day; thrice at Portsmouth, once at Kittery, and once at Old-York. Saturd•••• morning, Sept. 29, he set out for Boston; but before he came to Newbury-Port, where he had engaged to preach next morning, he was importuned to preach by the way, at Exeter. At this last place he preached in the open air, to accommodate the multitudes that came to hear him, no house being able to contain them. He continued his discourse near two hours, was greatly fatigued, and in the afternoon set out for Newbury-Port, where he arrived that evening; went early to bed, it being Saturday night, intending to preach the next day. He awaked several times in the night, and complained much of a difficulty of breath|ing. At six o'clock on the Lord's day morning, he expired in a fit of the asthma.

Mr. Richard Smith, who accompanied Mr. White|field from England to America the last time, and in his journeyings when there, to the time of his death, hath given a particular account of his death and inter|ment, which it may not be improper to insert.

On Saturday, Sept. 29, 1770, Mr. Whitefield rode from Portsmouth to Exeter (fifteen miles) in the morning, and preached there to a very great multitude in the fields. It is remarkable, that be|fore he went out to preach that day, (which prov|ed to be his last sermon) Mr. Clarkson, senior, ob|serving him more uneasy than usual, said to him, 'Sir, you are more fit to go to bed than to preach.' To which Mr. Whitefield answered, 'True, Sir:' but turning aside, he clasped his hands together, and, looking up, spoke, 'Lord Jesus, I am weary in thy work, but not of thy work. If I have not yet finished my course, let me go and speak for thee once more in the fields, seal thy truth, and come home and die.' The text he preached from was, 2 Cor. xiii. 5. 'Examine yourselves, whether ye be is

the faith; prove your own selves: know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates?' He dined at Captain Gillman's. After dinner, Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Parsons rode to Newbury. I did not get there till two hours after them. I found them at supper. I asked Mr. Whitefield how he felt himself after his journey. He said, 'he was tired, therefore he supped early, and would go to bed.' He eat a ve|ry little supper, talked but little, asked Mr. Par|sons to discharge the table, and perform family du|ty; and then retired up stairs. He said, 'that he would sit and read till I came to him,' which I did as soon as possible, and found him reading in the Bible, with Dr. Watts's Psalms lying open before him. He asked me for some water-gruel, and took about half his usual quantity, and kneeling down by the bedside, closed the evening with prayer. Af|ter a little conversation, he went to rest and slept till two in the morning, when he awoke me, and asked for a little cyder; be drank about a wine glass full. I asked him how he felt, for he seemed to pant for breath. He told me, 'His asthma was coming on him again; I must have two or three days rest▪ Two or three days riding, without preaching, would set me up again.' Soon afterwards he asked me to put the window up a little higher, (though it was half up all night) for, said he, 'I cannot breathe, but I hope I shall be better by and by; a good pulpit-sweat to-day may give me relief; I shall be better after preaching.' I said to him, I wished he would not preach so often. He replied, 'I had rather wear out, than rust out.' I then told him, I was afraid he took cold in preaching yester|day. He said, 'He believed he had;' and th•••• sat up in the bed and prayed, that God would be pleased to bless his preaching where he had been, and also bless his preaching that day, that more

souls might be brought to Christ, and prayed for direction, whether he should winter at Boston, or hasten to the southward: prayed for a blessing on his Bethesda College, and his dear family there; for Tabernacle and Chapel congregations, and all his connections on the other side the water, and then laid himself down to sleep again. This was nigh three o'clock. At a quarter past four he wak|ed, and said, 'My asthma, my asthma is coming on, I wish I had not given out word to preach at Haverhill on Monday; I don't think I shall be able: but, I shall see what to-day will bring forth. If I am no better to-morrow, I will take a two or three days ride.' He then desired me to warm him a little gruel, and in breaking the fire-wood, I waked Mr. Parsons; who thinking I knocked for him, rose and came in. He went to Mr. White|field's bedside, and ••sked him how he felt himself. He answered, 'I am almost suffocated, I can scarce breathe: my asthma quite choaks me.' I was then not a little surprized, to hear how quick and with what difficulty he drew his breath. He got out of bed, and went to the open window for air. This was exactly at five o'clock. I went to him, and for about the space of five minutes, I saw no dan|ger, only that he had a great difficulty in breath|ing, as I had often seen before. Soon afterwards he turned himself to me, and said, 'I am dying.' I said, I hope not, Sir. He ran to the other win|dow panting for breathing, but could get no re|lief. It was agreed I should go for Dr. Sawyer; and on my coming back, I saw death on his face, and he again said, 'I am dying.' His eyes were fixed, his under lip drawing inward every time he drew breath; he went towards the window, and he offered him some warm wine with Lavender drops, which he refused. I persuaded him to sit down in the chair, and have his cloak on; he con|sented

by a sign, but could not speak. I then of|fered him the glass of warm wine; he took half of it, but it seemed as if it would have stopped his breath entirely. In a little time he brought up a considerable quantity of phlegm and wind. I then began to have some small hopes. Mr. Parsons said, he thought Mr. Whitefield breathed more freely than he did, and would recover. I said, no, Sir, he is certainly dying. I was continually employ|ed in taking the phlegm out of his mouth with a handkerchief, and bathing his temples with drops, rubbing his wrists, &c. to give him relief, if pos|sible; but all in vain, his hands and feet were cold as clay. When the Doctor came in, and saw him in the chair leaning on my breast, he felt his pulse, and said, 'He is a dead man.' Mr. Parsons said▪ 'I do not believe it, you must do something Doc|tor.' He said, 'I cannot; he is now near his last breath.' And indeed so it was, for he fetched but one gasp, and stretched out his feet, and breathed no more. This was exactly at six o'clock. We continued rubbing his legs and hands and feet with warm cloths, and bathed him with spirits for some time, but all in vain. I then put him into a warm bed, the Doctor standing by, and often raised him upright, continued rubbing him and putting spirits to his nose for an hour, till all hopes w•• ••e. The people came in crowds to see him; I ••ed the Doctor to shut the door.

The Rev. Mr. Parsons, at whose house my dear Master died, sent for Captain Fetcomb, and Mr. Boadman, and others of his Elders and Deaco•• and they took the whole care of the burial upon themselves, prepared the vault, and sent and in|vited the bearers. Many Ministers of all pers••••|sions came to the house of the Rev. Mr. Parsons where several of them gave a very particular ac|count of their first awakening under his ministry,

several years ago, and also of many in their con|gregations, that to their knowledge, under God, owed their conversion wholly to his coming among them, often repeating the blessed seasons they had enjoyed under his preaching: and all said, that this last visit was attended with more power than any other, and that all opposition fell before him. Then one and another of them would pity and pray for his dear Tabernacle and Chapel congregations, and it was truly affecting to hear them bemoan A|merica and England's loss. Thus they continued for two hours conversing about his great usefulness, and praying that God would scatter his gifts and drop his mantle among them. When the corpse was placed at the foot of the pulpit, close to the vault, the Rev. Mr. Daniel Rogers made a very af|fecting prayer, and openly confessed, that under God, he owed his conversion to the labours of that dear Man of God, whose precious remains now lay before them. Then he cried out, 'O my father, my father!' then stopt and wept, as though his heart would break, and the people weeping all through the place. Then he recovered, and finish|ed his prayer and sat down and wept. Then one of the Deacons gave out that hymn, 'Why do we mourn departing friends?' Some of the people weeping, some singing, and so on alternately. The Rev. Mr. Jewel preached a funeral discourse, and made an affectionate address to his brethren to lay to heart the death of that useful man of God; beg|ging that he and they might be upon their watch-tower, and endeavour to follow his blessed exam|ple. The corpse was then put into the vault, and all concluded with a short prayer, and dimission of the people, who went weeping through the streets to their respective places of abode.

The melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield's death reached London on Monday, November 5, 1770,

by the Boston Gazette, and by three letters from dif|ferent persons at Boston, to his friend Mr. Keen, who also by the same post received two of his own hand-writing, written in health: one seven, and the other five days before his death. Mr. Keen had the melan|choly event notified the same night at the Tabernacle, and the next night at Tottenham-Court Chapel. His next step was to consider of a proper person to preach the funeral sermon; and recollecting he had often said to Mr. Whitefield, If you should die abroad, whom shall we get to preach your funeral sermon? Must it be your old friend the Rev. Mr. John Wesley? And hav|ing received constantly for answer, "He is the man." Mr. Keen accordingly waited on the Rev. Mr. Wes|ley on the Saturday following, and engaged him to preach it on the Lord's day, November 18, which he did to a very large, crowded, and mournful audito|ry: many hundreds going away, who could not pos|sibly get in.

In both the places of worship, the pulpits, &c. were hung with black cloth, and the galleries with fine black baize. The pulpits had escutcheons placed in the front, and on each of the houses adjoining, hatch|ments were put up: The motto on each was, "M•••• vita Salus & Gloria Christus." Six months exp••d be|fore the mourning was taken down, and the escutche|ons hung up in each vestry. The hatchments re|mained twelve months, and when taken down, one was placed in the Tabernacle, the other in the Cha|pel over a neat marble monument Mr. Whitefield had erected for his wife, with room left for a few lines re|specting himself after his decease, as he purposed lying in the same vault had he died in England. Accord|ingly the Rev. Mr. Knight of Halifax, in Yorkshire, drew up the following lines.

In Memory of

The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, A. M. Chapl•• to the Right Honourable the Countess of Hunting|don,

whose soul made meet for glory, was taken to Immanuel's bosom, on the 30th of September 1770; and whose bo••y now lies in the silent grave at New|bury-Port, near Boston, in New-England, there deposited in hope of a joyful resurrection to eter|nal life and glory.

He was a man eminent in Piety, of a humane, benevolent, and charitable disposition; his zeal in the cause of God was singular, his labours indefa|tigable, and his success in preaching the Gospel remarkable and astonishing. He departed this life in the 56th year of his age.

And, like his Master, was by some despis'd; Like him, by many others, lov'd and priz'd: But theirs shall be the everlasting crown, Not whom the world, but Jesus Christ will own.

Mr. Whitefield was not full fifty-six years of age at the time of his death: thirty-four years of which he spent in the ministry. And if life is to be measured by the greatest activity and enjoyment; such as being always intent upon some good design, and vigorous in the pursuit of it; filling up every day with actions of importance, worthy of a man and a christian; seeing much of the world, and having a constant flow of the most lively affections, both of the social and religious kind; Mr. Whitefield, in these thirty-four years may be said to have lived more than most men would do, though their lives were prolonged for many ages.

CHAP. XXI. A Description of his Person; a Review of his Life; and the most striking Parts of his Character pointed out.

HIS person was graceful, and well proportioned: his stature 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 the 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 deport|ment 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 slender, and moved his body with great agility to action, suitable to his discourse; but about the for|tieth 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.

In reviewing the life of this extraordinary man, the following particulars appear very remarkable.

First, we are struck with his unwearied diligence in the office of religion, and his conscientious improve|ment of every portion of his time. Early in the morning he rose to his Master's work, and all the day long was employed in a continual succession of dif|ferent duties. Take a view of his public conduct; here he is engaged either in preaching the Gospel, in visiting and giving counsel to the afflicted, in instruct|ing

the ignorant, or in celebrating the praises of God. Observe his behaviour in private company; there you hear him introducing, upon all occasions, and among all sorts of people, discourse that tended to edification. And if you follow him to his retirements; you see him writing devout meditations upon the oc|currences of the day, or letters to his christian ac|quaintance full of piety and zeal. What a gloomy idea must a stranger to vital piety entertain of a life spent in this manner? He will think it must have been not only joyless and disgusting, but intolerably burthensome. Far otherwise did it appear in the ex|perience of this servant of Christ. He felt the great|est enjoyment when engaged in a constant round of social and religious duties. In these, whole weeks past away like one day. And when he was visited with any distress or affliction, preaching, as he tells us himself, was his catholicon, and prayer his antidote against every trial. The pleasure of a man of business in successfully pushing his trade, or of a philosopher when pursuing his favourite studies, may give us some faint conception of the joys which he felt: yet so ar|dent were his desires after the heavenly happiness, that he often longed to finish his work, and to go home to his Saviour.

Blessed be God, the prospect of death is pleasant to my soul. I would not live here always.

I want to be gone* 4.12.

Sometimes it arises from a fear of falling. Some|times from a prospect of future labours and suffer|ings. But these are times when my soul hath such foretastes of God, that I long more eagerly to be with Him; and the prospect of the happiness which the spirits of just men made perfect now enjoy, often carries me, as it were, into another world.† 4.13

Again, we are justly surprized at his frequent and fervent preaching under all the disadvantages of a

sickly constitution, and the many fits of illness with which he was suddenly seized. It must indeed be confessed, that change of air, frequent travelling on horseback, and the many voyages he made, might contribute to the preservation of his health and vi|gour: but when we consider what exertion of voice was necessary to reach his large congregations; that he preached generally twice or thrice every day, and often four times on the Lord's day; but above all, what waste of strength and spirits every sermon must have cost him, through the earnestness of his delivery; it is truly astonishing, how his constitution could hold out so long ‡ 4.14.

But there is another circumstance not less remark|able than either of the former, which is, the uncom|mon desire that all sorts of people expressed to attend his preaching; and that not upon the first or second visit only, but at every succeeding opportunity. Wherever he went, prodigious numbers flocked to hear him. His congregations often consisted of four or five thousand: in populous places they swelled to ten, sometimes fourteen: and upon some occasions the concourse was so great, that they have been com|puted to be from twenty to thirty thousand.

It is wonderful to think how he commanded the attention of such multitudes; with what composure they listened when he began to speak; how they hung upon his lips, and were often dissolved in tears: and this was the case with persons of the most hardy and rugged, as well as those of softer tempers.

His eloquence was indeed very great, and of the truest and noblest kind. He was utterly devoid of all appearance of affectation. He seemed to be quite unconscious of the talents he possessed. The impor|tance of his subject, and the regard due to his hearers, engrossed all his concern. He spake like one who

did not seek their applause, but was concerned for their best interests, and who, from a principle of un|feigned love, earnestly endeavoured to lead them in the right way. And the effect in some measure cor|responded to the design. They did not amuse them|selves with commending his discourses; but being moved and persuaded by what he said, entered into his views, felt his passions, and were willing, for that time at least, to comply with all his requests. This was especially remarkable at his charity sermons* 4.15, when the 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. The charm, however, was no|thing else than the power of his irresistible eloquence, in which respect it is not easy to say, whether he was ever excelled either in ancient or modern times.

He had a strong and musical voice, and a wonderful command of it. His pronunciation was not only proper, but manly and graceful. Nor was he ever at a loss for the most natural and strong expressions. Yet these in him were but lower qualities. The grand sources of his eloquence were an exceeding lively imagination, which made people think they saw what he described; and action still more lively if possible, by which, while every accent of his voice spoke to the ear, every feature of his face, every mo|tion of his hands, and every gesture spoke to the eye; so that the most dissipated and thoughtless found their attention involuntarily fixed, and the dullest and most ignorant could not but understand. He had likewise a certain elevation of mind, which raised him equal|ly above praise and censure, and added great authori|ty to whatever he said. The natural language of this christian fortitude was,

The Lord only knows

how he will be pleased to dispose of me; great afflictions I am sure of having; and a sudden death, blessed be God, will not be terrible. I know that my Redeemer liveth. I every day long to see Him, that I may be free from the remainder of sin, and enjoy Him without interruption, for|ever † 4.16.

But what was perhaps the most important of all, he had a heart deeply exercised in all the social, as well as the pious and religious affections, and was at the same time most remarkably communicative, by which means he was peculiarly fitted to awaken like feelings in others, and so sympathize with every one that had them.

This last, some have thought was the distinguish|ing part of his character. It was certainly, however, an eminent part of it. In his journals and letters, an impartial reader will find instances thereof almost in every page: such as, lively gratitude to God in the first place, and to all whom God had used as instru|ments of good to him: sincere love in dealing so plainly with his correspondents about the interest of their souls ‡ 4.17: frequent and particular intercession for his friends, his enemies, and all mankind: great de|light in the society of christian acquaintance: many very sorrowful partings, and joyful meetings with his friends: tender heartedness to the afflicted: the plea|sure in procuring and administring seasonable sup|ply to the indi••nt: and condescension to people of the lowest rank, to instruct and converse with them for their good, in as kind and sociable a manner, as if he had been their brother or intimate friend. These are manifest proofs that he had a heart easily susep|tible of every humane, tender, and compassionate feel|ing. And this was certainly a great mean of enabling him so strongly to affect the hearts of others.

Had his natural talents for oratory been employed in secular affairs, and been somewhat more improved by the refinements of art, and the embellishments of erudition, it is probable they would soon have advan|ced him to distinguished wealth and renown. But his sole ambition was to serve a crucified Saviour, in the ministry of the Gospel. And being early convin|ced of the great hurt that has been done to christiani|ty, by a bigotted spirit, he insisted not upon the pe|culiar * 4.18 tenets of a party, but upon the universally-interesting doctrines of Holy Scripture, concerning the ruin of mankind by sin, and their recovery by divine Grace; doctrines, the truth of which, he himself had deeply felt. To make men sensible of the mise|ry of their alienation from God, and of the neces|sity of justification by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, of regeneration by the Holy Spirit, and of a life of devotedness to God, was the principal aim of all his discourses. "The only Methodism, I desire to know," says he, † 4.19

is a holy method of dying to ourselves, and of living to God.

By this description, he was far from intending to confine true religion to the ex|ercises of devotion. By "living to God" he meant a constant endeavour after conformity to the Divine Will in all things. For, says he, in another ‡ 4.20 place,

It is a great mistake to suppose religion consists only in saying our prayers. Every christian lies

under a necessity to have some particular calling whereby he may be a us••l member of the society to which he belongs. A man is no farther holy than he is relatively holy: and he only will adorn the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ in all things, who is careful to perform all the civil offices of life, with a single eye to God's glory, and from a principle of lively faith in Jesus Christ our Sa|viour. This is the morality which we preach.

He used also to give this definition of true religion,

that it is a universal morality founded upon love of God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Licen|tiousness and luxury, and all sorts of time-wasting and dissipating amusements, how fashionable soever, he constantly inveighed against. These were the topics on which he employed his eloquence.

But not to dwell any longer on his accomplishments as an orator, and the excellent purposes to which, through the grace of God, he devoted them; one thing remains to be mentioned, of an infinite high|er order than any human powers whatever: and that is, the power of God, which so remarkably ac|companied the labours of his servant, and without which both Scripture and experience teach us, that all external means, however excellent, are ineffectual and vain. It is here Mr. Whitefield is most to be envied, were it lawful to envy any man. When we consider the multitudes that were not only awak|ened, but brought under lasting religious impressions by his ministry; and the multitudes that were wrought upon in the same manner by the ministry of others excited by his * 4.21 example, both in Great Britain and America, we are naturally led into the same sentiments with Mr. Wesley in his funeral sermon,

What an honour hath it pleased God to put upon his faith|ful servant! 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 repen|tance. Above all, have we read or heard of any who has been a blessed instrument in his hand of bringing so many sinners from darkness to light, and from the power of satan unto God?

This excellent character joined to talents so extra|ordinary, and to labours, which God was pleased to bless with almost unequalled success, was shaded with some infirmities. And what else could be expected in the present conditions of humanity? These have been sufficiently laid open in the preceding Narrative of his Life. And it ought to be observed, that as there was something very amiable in the frankness and un|reservedness which prevented his concealing them; so through his openness to conviction, his teachableness, † 4.22 and his readiness to confess and correct his mistakes,

they became still fewer and smaller, and decreased continually as he advanced in knowledge and ex|perience.

It would be unjust to his memory not to take notice upon this occasion of that uniformity of sentiment which runs through all his sermons and writings, af|ter he was thoroughly enlightened in the truth. In|deed, when he first set out in the ministry, his youth and inexperience led him into many expressions which were contrary to sound doctrine, which made many of the sermons he first printed justly exception|able; but reading, experience, and a deeper know|ledge of his own heart, convinced him of his errors, and upon all occasions he avowed his belief of the 39 articles of the Church of England, and the stand|ards of the Church of Scotland, as expressly founded on the word of God. He loved his friend, but he would not part with a grain of sacred truth for the brother of his heart. Thus we see him constrained to write and print against the Arminian tenets of Mr.

John Wesley, whom he loved in the bowels of Christ Jesus. And it appears from several other tracts in the 4th vol. in his works, that he neglected no oppor|tunity of stepping forth as a bold champion, in defence of that faith which was once delivered to the saints.

EXTRACTS from some of the FUNERAL SER|MONS which were preached on the Occasion of his DEATH.

MANY Sermons were preached upon occasion of his death, both in America and England. From these, though they contain nothing materially different from the above accounts, yet the reader will probably not be displeased to see the following ex|tracts; as they not only set the character of Mr. Whitefield in a variety of lights, but are so many tes|timonies to it, by witnesses of undoubted credit, in different parts of the world.

The first was preached by Mr. Parsons, the very day on which he died, * 4.23 from Phil. i. 21. "To me

to live is Christ, and to die is gain." And this is the character he gives of his departed friend.

"Christ became a principle of spiritual life in his soul, while he was an under-graduate at the Univer|sity in Oxford. Before his conversion he was a Pha|risee of the Pharisees, as strict as ever Paul was, be|fore God met him on his way to Damascus, according to his own declaration in his last sermon, which I heard him preach at Exeter, yesterday. He was, by means of reading, a very searching, puritanical writer, convinced of the rottenness of all the duties he had done, and the danger of a self-righteous foundation of

hope. When he heard Christ speak to him in the Gospel, he cried, 'Lord what wilt thou have me to

do?' And it seems as if, at that time, it had been made known to him that he was a chosen vessel, to bear the name of Christ Jesus through the British Nation and her Colonies: to stand before Kings and Nobles, and all sorts of people, to preach Christ, and him crucified. From that time the dawns of salvati|on had living power in his heart, and he had an ar|dent desire to furnish himself for the Gospel ministry. To this end, besides the usual studies at the college, he gave himself to reading the Holy Scriptures, to meditation and prayer; and particularly, he read Mr. Henry's Annotations on the Bible, upon his knees before God.

"Since my first acquaintance with him, which is about thirty years ago, I have highly esteemed him, as an excellent Christian, and an eminent Minister of the Gospel. An heart so bent for Christ, with such a sprightly active genius, could not admit of his stat|ed fixed residence, in one place, as the pastor of a particular congregation; and therefore, he chose to itinerate from place to place, and from one country to another; which indeed was much better suited to his talents, than a fixed abode would have been. I often considered him as an angel flying through the midst of heaven, with the everlasting Gospel, to preach unto them that dwell on the earth; for he preached the uncorrupted word of God, and gave so|lemn warnings against all corruptions of the Gospel of Christ. When he came the first time to Boston, the venerable Dr. Coleman, (with whom I had a small acquaintance) condescended to write to me, "That the wonderful man was come, and they had had a week of Sabbaths; that his zeal for Christ was ex|traordinary; and yet he recommended himself to his many thousand hearers, by his engagedness for holi|ness and souls." I soon had opportunity to observe that wherever he flew, like a flame of fire, his minis|try gave a general alarm to all sorts of people, though before, they had, for a long time, been amazingly

sunk down into dead formality. It was then a time in New-England, that real Christians generally had slackened their zeal for Christ, and fallen into a re|miss and careless frame of spirit: and hypocritical professors were sunk into a deep sleep of carnal secu|rity. Ministers and their congregations, seemed to be at ease. But his preaching appeared to be from the heart, though too many, who spake the same things, preached as if it were indifferent, whether they were received or rejected. We are convinced that he be|lieved the message he brought us, to be of the last im|portance. Nevertheless, as soon as there was time for reflection, the enemies of Christ began to cavil, and hold up some of his sallies, as if they were un|pardonable faults. By such means he met with a storm as tempestuous as the troubled sea, that casts up mire and dirt. Some of every station were too fond of their old way of formality, to part with it, for such a de|spised cause as living religion. But the Spirit of Christ set home the message of the Lord upon the con|sciences of some, and shook them off from their false hopes: but many began to find fault, and some to write against his evangelizing through the country, while others threatened fire-brands, arrows, and death. Yet God gave room for his intense zeal to operate, and sit objects appeared, wherever he went, to engage him in preaching Christ, and him crucified.

"In his repeated visits to America, when his ser|vices had almost exhausted his animal spirits, and his friends were ready to cry, Spare thyself, his hope of serving Christ, and winning souls to him, animated and engaged him to run almost any risque. Neither did he ever cross the Atlantic on an itinerating visita|tion, without visiting his numerous brethren here, to see how religion prospered among them: and we know that his labours have been unwearied among us, and to the applause of all his hearers; and, through the infinite mercy of God, his labours have sometimes been crowned with great success, in the conversion

of sinners, and the edification of saints. And though he often returned from the pulpit very feeble after public preaching, yet his engaging sweetness of con|versation, changed the suspicions of many, into pas|sionate love and friendship.

"In many things his example is worthy of imita|tion; and, if in any thing he exceeded, or came short, his integrity, zeal for God, and love to Christ and his Gospel, rendered him, in extensive usefulness, more than equal to any of his brethren. In preaching here, and through most parts of America, he has been in labours more abundant, approving himself a Mi|nister of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in watchings, in fastings, by pureness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as having nothing, yet possessing all things. And God that comforted those that are cast down, has often comforted us by his coming; and not by his coming only, but by the consolation wherewith he was comforted in us, so that we could rejoice the more.

"His popularity exceeded all that ever I knew; and, though the asthma was sometimes an obstruction to him, his delivery and entertaining method was so inviting to the last, that it would command the atten|tion of the vast multitudes of his hearers. An appre|hension of his concern to serve the Lord Jesus Christ, and do good to the souls of men, drew many thousands after him, who never embraced the doctrines he taught. He had something peculiar in his manner, expressive of sincerity in all he delivered, that it constrained the most abandoned to think, he believed what he said was not only true, but of the last importance to souls; and by adapted texts adduced, and instances of the grace of God related agreeable thereto, he often surprised his most judicious hearers.

"His labours extended not only to New-England, and many other colonies in British America, but were eminent and more abundant in Great-Britain. Many

thousands at his Chapel and Tabernacle in London, and in other places, were witnesses that he faithfully endeavour|ed to restore the doctrines of the Reformation, and the pu|rity of the church to its primitive glory. Some among the learned, some of the mighty and noble have been called, by his ministry, to testify for the Gospel of the grace of God. The force of his reasonings against corrupt principles, and the easy method he had in exposing the danger of them, have astonished the most that heard him, in all places where he preached. How did he lament and withstand the modern, unscriptural notions of religion and salvation, that were palmed upon the churches of every denomination! The af|fecting change from primitive purity to fatal heresy, together with the sad effects of it in mere formality and open wickedness, would often make him cry, as the Prophet did in another case, "How is the gold become dim, and the most fine gold changed! How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud, in his anger, and cast down from heaven to earth the beauty of Israel"

"It is no wonder that this man of God should meet with enemies, and with great opposition to his minis|try; for hell trembled before him. It is no more than may be always expected of the devil, that he should stir up his servants, to load the most eminent Minis|ters of Christ with calumny, and most impudent lies; and represent them as the filth and off-scouring of all things. All this may be, and often has been done, under a pretence of great concern for the honour of Christ, and the preservation of Gospel-order. When satan's kingdom totters and begins to fall, he can find men enough to cry, The Church is in danger; and that, he knows, is sufficient with m••ny, to hide his cloven foot, and make him appear as an angel of light.

"Through a variety of such labours and trials, our worthy friend, and extensively useful servant of Christ, Mr. Whitefield, passed, both in England and Ame|ca: but the Lord was his sun to guide and animate

him, and his shield to defend and help him unto the end: neither did he count his own life dear, so that he might finish his course with joy, and the ministry that he had received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace of God. The last sermon that he preached, though under the disadvantage of a stage in the open air, was delivered with such clear|ness, pathos, and eloquence, as to please and surprize the surrounding thousands. And as he had been con|firmed by the grace of God, many years before, and had been waiting and hoping for his last change, he then declared, that he hoped it was the last time he should ever preach. Doubtless, he then had such clear views of the blessedness of open vision, and the com|complete fruition of God in Christ, that he felt the pleasures of heaven in his raptured soul, which made his countenance shine like the unclouded sun."

The next sermon was preached by Dr. Pemberton of * 4.24 Boston, October 11, 1770, upon 1 Peter i. 4. "To an inheritance—reserved in heaven for you." In which he says:

"I am not fond of funeral panegyrics.—But where persons have been distinguishingly honoured by hea|ven,

and employed to do uncommon service for God's church upon earth, it would be criminal ingratitude to suffer them to drop into the dust without the most respectful notice.

The memory of the just is bles|sed!

Posterity will view Mr. Whitefield in many respects, as one of the most extraordinary characters of the present age. His zealous, incessant, and suc|cessful labours, in Europe and America, are without a parallel.

"Devoted early to God, he took orders as soon as the constitution of the established Church in England allowed. His first appearance in the work of the mi|nistry was attended with surprising success. The larg|est churches in London were not able to contain the numbers that perpetually flocked to hear his awaken|ing discourses. The crowds daily increased. He was soon forced into the fields, followed by multitudes, who hung with silent attention upon his lips, and

with avidity received the word of life. The Spirit of God, in uncommon measure, descended upon the hearers. The secure were awakened to a salutary fear of divine wrath; and inquiring minds were directed to Jesus, the only Saviour of a revolted world. The vicious were visibly reclaimed, and those who had hitherto rested in a form of godliness, were made ac|quainted with the power of a divine life. The peo|ple of God were refreshed with the consolation of the blessed Spirit, and rejoiced to see their exalted Mas|ter, going on from conquering to conquer; and sin|ners of all orders and characters, bowing to the scep|ter of a crucified Saviour.

"His zeal could not be confined within the British islands. His ardent desire for the welfare of immortal souls, conveyed him to the distant shores of America. We beheld a new star arise in the hemisphere of these western churches; and its salutary influences were dif|fused through a great part of the British settlements in these remote regions. We heard with pleasure, from a Divine of the Episcopal communion, those great doc|trines of the Gospel, which our venerable ancestors brought with them from their native country. With a soul elevated, above a fond attachment to forms and ceremonies, he inculcated that pure and unadulterat|ed religion, for the preservation of which our fathers banished themselves into an uncultivated desert. 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, eve|ry eye was fixed upon 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.

"But it is not the fine speaker, the accomplished orator, that we are to celebrate from the sacred desk:

these engaging qualities, if not sanctified by divine grace, and consecrated to the service of heaven, are as the sounding brass, and the tinkling cymbal. When misimproved, instead of conveying happiness to man|kind, they render us more illustriously miserable.

"The gifts of nature, the acquisitions of art, which adorned the character of Mr. Whitefield, were devoted to the honour of God, and the enlargement of the kingdom of our divine Redeemer. While he preached the Gospel, the Holy Ghost was sent down to apply it to the consciences of the hearers; the eyes of the blind were opened, to behold the glories of the compassionate Saviour; the ears of the deaf were un|stopped, to attend to the invitations of incarnate love; the dead were animated with a divine principle of life; many in all parts of the land, were turned from darkness to light, and from the power of satan unto God. These doctrines which we had been instructed in from our infancy by our faithful Pastors, seemed to acquire new force, and were attended with uncom|mon success when delivered by him. His discourses were not trifling speculations, but contained the most interesting truths; they were not an empty play of wit, but solemn addresses to the hearts of men.

"To convince sinners that they were by nature children of wrath; by practice, transgressors of the divine law; and in consequence of this, exposed to the vengeance of offended heaven; to display the transcendent excellency of a Saviour, and persuade awakened minds to confide in his merits and righte|ousness, as the only hope of a guilty world; to im|press upon the professors of the Gospel the necessity, not only of an outward reformation, but an internal change, by the powerful influences of the Spirit; to lead the faithful to a zealous practice of the various duties of the Christian life, that they may evidence the sincerity of their faith, and adorn the doctrine of God their Saviour; these were the reigning subjects of his pulpit discourses.

If sinners were converted; if saints were built up in faith, holiness, and comfort, he attained his utmost aim.

"He was no contracted bigot, but embraced christi|ans 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.

"That I am not complimenting the dead, but speaking the words of truth and soberness, I am per|suaded I have many witnesses in this assembly.

"He was always received by multitudes with pleasure, when he favoured these parts with his la|bours; 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 their respect. With what faith|fulness 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 ex|hort 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?

"Animated with a Godlike design of promoting the temporal and spiritual happiness of mankind, after the example of his Divine Master, he went about do|ing good. In this he persevered with unremitting ar|dour and assiduity, till death removed him to that rest which remains for the people of God. Perhaps no man, since the apostolic age, preached oftner or with greater success.

"If we view his private character, he will appear in a most amiable point of light. The polite Gen|tleman; the faithful friend; the engaging compa|nion; 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 ge|nerously

employed in offices of piety and charity. His benevolent mind was perpetually forming plans of extensive usefulness. The Orphan-house, which ma|ny years ago he erected in Georgia, and the College he was founding in that province at the time of his death, will be lasting monuments of his care, that re|ligion and learning might be propagated to future ge|nerations.

"I have not, my brethren, drawn an imaginary portrait, but described a character exhibited in real life. I have not mentioned his natural abilities, which were vastly above the common standard. I consider him principally in the light of a Christian, and a Mi|nister of Jesus Christ, in which he shone with a pecu|liar lustre, as a star of the first magnitude.

"After all, I am not representing a perfect man; there are spots in the most shining characters upon earth. 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 attend|ed his first entrance into public life.

"The imprudencies of unexperienced youth, he frequently acknowledged from the pulpit with a frank|ness 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 hu|mility, meekness, prudence, patience, and the other amiable virtues of the christian life."

Another Funeral Sermon on Mr. Whitefield was preached by Mr. Ellington, at Savannah in Georgia, Nov. 11, 1770, upon Heb. xi. 26. "Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he had respect unto the recompence

of the reward." In which are the following passages* 4.25.

"The receiving the melancholy news of the much lamented death of a particular friend to this province, a person who was once Minister of this church, is the reason of this discourse; and my choice of this subject before us, is to pay my grateful respect to the memory of this well-known able Minister of the New Testament, and faithful servant of the most high God, the Rev. George Whitefield; whose life was just|ly esteemed, and whose death will be greatly regret|ted, by the sincerely religious part of mankind of all denominations, as long as there is one remaining on earth, who knew him, to recollect the fervor of spirit, and holy zeal with which he spake, when preaching the everlasting Gospel; and every other part of his disinterested conduct, consistent with the ministerial character in life and conversation. Mr. Whitefield's works praise him loud enough; I am not able to say any thing that can add greater lustre to them. May every one that ministers in holy things, and all who partake of their ministrations, have equal right to the characteristic in the text as he had.

"It is the ruling opinion of many, that the offence of the cross is long since ceased, and that whatever evil treatment some of a singular turn may meet with, it is only the fruit of their own doings, and the re|ward of their own work, whereby they raise the resent|ment of mankind against them for uncharitable slan|der, and spiritual abuse. But whoever knoweth any thing of the Gospel, and hath experienced it to be

the power of God unto salvation, knoweth this is the language of persons who are unacquainted with the depravity of their nature, and through the degeneracy of their hearts, are unwilling to be disturbed; there|fore are saying to the Ministers of Christ, "Prophecy unto us smooth things." But the Ministers of the Gospel are to be sons of thunder, and so to utter their voice, and conduct their lives, as to prove the nature of their work.

"Our dear and reverend friend was highly honour|ed for many years, in being an happy instrument to do this successfully. With what a holy zeal he pro|ceeded, long before he was publicly ordained to the sacred office, has been long attested; and no person has been able to contradict the testimony. No sooner did he appear in the work of the sanctuary, but he soon convinced his numerous auditories, that his Al|mighty Lord, who had given him the commission, had by his grace wrought him for the self-same thing; and through the Holy Spirit, attending his endea|vours, made him a workman that needed not to be ashamed. One would think his great success in his public labours, the frequent opportunities he embraced of doing good, by the relief of people in distressing circumstances, every occasion he took to use his influ|ence for the good of mankind, and the whole of his behaviour through a life of fifty-six years, being (so far as the frailty of our present state will admit) un|blameable and unreproveable, should have exempted him from contempt and reproach. But quite the contrary, there was so near a resemblance with his blessed Master, that obliged him to bear his reproach. He has suffered with him on earth, and he is now glorified with him in heaven. He has laboured a|bundantly, and he has been as liberally reproached and maligned from every quarter. Clergy and laity have whet their tongues like a sword against him, and bent their bows to shoot their arrows; but the Lord, amongst all, has known and approved his righteous ser|vant.

Though it is well known he has had oppor|tunity long since to enjoy episcopal emolument, yet, in his opinion (and it will be found he judged like a wise man in the end) sinners through his instrumen|tality, being turned unto the Lord, and becoming his joy, and crown of rejoicing, in the day of our Lord Jesus, was esteemed a greater honour than any this world could afford him. His longing desire for the salvation of immortal souls, would not admit of his being confined within the district of any walls; though it must be ackowledged, he never thought of com|mencing field-preacher, till his invidious enemies re|fused him church-pulpits, with indignation of spirit unbecoming the lowest and vulgar class of mankind, much less men professing themselves preachers of god|liness. Though he has, throughout the whole course of his ministry, given sufficient proof of his inviolable attachment to our happy establishment, he was de|sirous to countenance the image of Christ wherever he saw it, well knowing, that political institutions in any nation whatever, should not destroy the blessed union, or prevent the communion which ought to subsist throughout the Holy Catholic Church, between real and sincere christians of all denominations. Some people may retain such a veneration for apostolic phrases as to suppose they ought not to be applied to other persons; sorry am I to observe, that few deserve the application of them. But of Mr. Whitefield we may say with the strictest truth, in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of his own countrymen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, he hath ap|proved himself a Minister of God. All who knew and were acquainted with him, soon discovered in him every ma••k of good sense and good manners; his company and conversation was so enlivening and en|tertaining, and at the same time so instructive and edi|fying, that no person with the least degree of common

sense, could behave improperly in his presence. In him met (which do not often meet in one person) the finished and complete Gentleman, and the real and true Christian. Why then did he take pleasure in re|proaches, and submit to the taunts and insults both of the vulgar and politer part of mankind? He had re|spect to the recompence of reward. Though the be|liever's work will never entitle him to a reward of debt, yet the reward of grace will always excite a holy desire to render something unto the Lord: What wouldst thou have me do? is the incessant inquiry of that soul, who by the merits of the Redeemer's death, and the vir|tue of his precious blood, is redeemed from sin, and made a partaker of the inheritance incorruptible, un|defiled, and that fadeth not away. Faith operates by good works: and let all the men of the world say to the contrary, or to put ever so base a construction up|on our doctrine, it will evidence itself by these good fruits. It was from these principles that Mr. White|field acted, and they were productive of the desired effects; not only in alms giving, this was but a small matter, when compared with the happier and more important attempt which he made for the good of mankind, at the hazard of his life, and the expence of an unblemished character. How he has preached with showers of stones, and many other instruments of malice and revenge about his ears, many of his survi|ving friends can witness; but having the salvation of sinners at heart, and a great desire to rescue them from the power of eternal death; he resolved to spend and be spent for the service of precious and immortal souls; and spared no pains, and refused no labour, so that he might but administer to their real and eternal good: And glory be to our good God, he hath persevered and endured to the end of his life, having respect un|to the recompence of the reward. Surely nothing else could support him under such a weight of care, and enable him, amidst it all, for so many years, to bear it with so much chearfulness. The worthy in|habitants

of this Province do not want my attestation, either to the loss the province has sustained, or to the desire he has had for its prosperity. His indefatigable endeavours to promote it, and the many fervent pray|ers he has night and day offered for it, speak loud enough. Happy omens we would hope in favour of it, both as to its temporal increase, and spiritual prospe|rity. May God raise up some useful men to supply his place, and carry on unto perfection what he hath so disinterestedly begun, that the institution he hath founded in this province may be of public utility to the latest posterity! As to his death, little more can be said of it, than has been communicated to the pub|lic already. He died like a hero in the field of battle; he has been fighting the battles of the Lords of Hosts upwards of thirty years, against the world, sin, and sa|tan; and he hath been a conqueror, he hath fought successfully; many, very many, converted sinners are the trophies of his victory: but now his warfare is ac|complished, the Captain of his salvation hath granted him a discharge, he is entered into his everlasting rest, and is reaping the benefits of a life sincerely dedicated to the service of the once crucified, but now exalted Jesus. He preached the day before his decease: tho' his death was sudden he was not surprized; the morn|ing of his departure not many hours before his spirit took its flight to the regions of bliss, he prayed to the God of his salvation, and committed his departing soul into his hands, as his faithful Creator and all merci|ful Redeemer. Soon after he said, I am near my end, then fell asleep; he fainted, and died; not one sigh, or groan; the Lord heard his prayer and granted him his request, and gave him an easy dismission out of time into eternity: sudden death was his desire, and sudden death was to him sudden glory. He has fought the good fight; few, if any, since the Apostles, hath been more extensively useful or laboured more abundantly. Thousands I believe I may with propriety say, in England, Scotland, and America, have great reason to

bless God for his ministrations; for he hath travelled far and wide proclaiming the glad tidings of salvation, through faith in a crucified Saviour. Adorable Em|manuel, make thou up the loss of him to thy church and people! Let a double portion of thy Spirit be poured out upon the remaining Ministers! Let that holy fire which burnt so bright in thy departed servant, warm each of their hearts! And, O thou Lord of the harvest, send forth more such true and faithful la|bourers into thy harvest!"

A number of Funeral Sermons were preached for him in England as well as in America. In one by Mr. D. Edwards, Nov. 11, 1770, upon Heb. xi. 4.

By it he being dead, yet speaketh,

we have the fol|lowing character of Mr. Whitefield.

"1. The ardent love he bore to the Lord Jesus Christ was remarkable. This divine principle con|strained him to an unwearied application to the ser|vice of the Gospel, and transported him at times, in the eyes of some, beyond the bounds of sober reason. He was content to be a fool for Christ's sake; to be despised, so Christ might be honoured; to be nothing, that Jesus might be all in all. He had such a sense of the incomparable excellence of the person of Christ, of his adorable condescension in taking our nature up|on him, and enduring the curses of the holy law; his compleat suitableness and sufficiency; as the wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption of his peo|ple, that he could never say enough of him. He was so convinced of the happy tendency and efficacy of this principle in his own mind, that he made use of it, and proposed it to others, in the room of a thousand ar|guments, whenever he would inculcate the most unre|served obedience to the whole will of God, or stir up believers to a holy diligence in adorning the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things; inspired by this prin|ciple, nothing frighted or flattered him from his duty.

"2. Another pleasing ingredient in his character, and a sure evidence of the former, was love to the

souls of mankind. He rejoiced in their prosperity as one that had found great spoil; and with St. Paul was willing to spend and be spent in promoting their happiness. He loved all who loved Jesus Christ in sin|cerity, however they might differ in some circumstan|tials. He embraced all opportunities to expose the malignant leaven of a party, and to remove prejudices and misapprehensions which good people too often entertain of one another, when under the influence of a sectarian humour.

"3. His attachment to the great doctrines of the Gospel was inflexible; having known their worth, and experienced their power in his own heart, he plainly saw, that though they were unacceptable to the carnal heart, yet they bore the plain impress of the infinite wisdom of God. Those important truths, which tend to humble the sinner, to exalt Christ, and pro|mote holiness in heart and life, were his darling sub|jects. He did not disguise Gospel-truths by some art|ful sweetening, or render them more palatable to men of corrupt minds: he studied to preach the word in its purity, plainness and simplicity. The warmth of his zeal disgusted many who make a mighty outcry about candour and charity, and are willing to extend it to every sentiment, except the truths in which the Apostles gloried. It was his love to the truths of God, and the souls of men, that led him to expose those who plead for the rectitude and excellency of human na|ture; deny the proper Godhead of Jesus Christ, jus|tification by faith in his righteousness imputed, or the New-Birth, and the absolute necessity of the opera|tions of the Holy Ghost. Faith and holiness were ever united together in his system, in opposition to those who pretend to faith without obedience to the law of God as the rule of life. He knew errors in the great truths of the Gospel are not indifferent, but dreadful and fatal; he knew it was not candor and charity to say that errors in judgment are not hurtful, but the

greatest unmercifulness and cruelty; therefore he of|ten reproved such sharply.

"Although he was so tenacious of the foundation-truths of the Gospel, yet none more candid in things that are not essential; herein he was full of gentle|ness and forbearance. In things indifferent he became all things to all men * 4.26.

"4. To the foregoing particulars in Mr. White|field's character, I may add his zeal. His christian zeal was like the light of the sun, which did warm, shine and cherish, but knew not to destroy; full of ge|nerous philanthropy and benevolence, his zeal made him exceeding earnest and importunate in his addres|ses to saints and sinners. His zeal returned blessings for curses, and prayers for ill treatment: it kindled in him a becoming indignation against the errors, fol|lies, and sins of the times: it led him to weep bitter|ly over those who would not be persuaded to fly from the wrath to come: it made him bold and intrepid in the cause of God, and kept him from that flatness and deadness which is too visible in some good Ministers. In these things he was an example to Ministers of every denomination: and, if the limits of my dis|course would admit, I could mention many things, as to his great charity to the poor, his humility, &c."

On Sunday, Nov. 18, 1770, a Sermon was preach|ed on his death at the Chapel in Tottenham-Court-Road, and at the Tabernacle near Moorfields, by the Rev. Mr. John Wesley. The text was, Num. xxiii. 10.

Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.

And in the sermon, after giving some particulars of his life and death, Mr. Wesley says,

"1. We are next to take some view of his character, A little sketch of this was soon after his death, pub|lished in the Boston Gazette: an extract of which is subjoined: 'Little can be said of him, but what eve|ry friend to vital christianity, who has sat under his ministry, will attest. In his public labours he has for many years astonished the world with his eloquence and devotion. With what divine pathos did he per|suade 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 grace|ful charms of rhetoric and oratory. From the pulpit he was unrivalled in the command of an ever crowd|ed 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; may the rising generation catch a spark of that flame which shone with such distinguished lustre in the spirit and practice of this faithful servant of the most high God.'

"2. A more particular and equally just character of him, has appeared in one of the English papers * 4.27. It may not be disagreeable to you to add the substance of this likewise: 'The character of this truly pious per|son, must be deeply imprest on the heart of every friend to vital religion. In spite of a tender and deli|cate constitution, he continued to the last day of his life, preaching with a frequency and a fervour that seemed to exceed the natural strength of the most ro|bust. Being called to the exercise of his function at an age, when most young men are only beginning to qua|lify themselves for it, he had not time to make a very considerable progress in the learned languages: but this defect was amply supplied by a lively and fertile genius, by fervent zeal, and by a forcible and most persuasive delivery. And though in the pulpit he

often found it needful, by the terrors of the Lord, to persuade men, he had nothing gloomy in his nature, being singularly chearful, as well as charitable and ten|der hearted. He was as ready to relieve the bodily as the spiritual necessities of those that applied to him. It ought also to be observed, that he constantly en|forced upon his audience every moral duty, particu|larly industry in their several callings, and obedience to their superiors. He endeavoured by the most extra|ordinary efforts of preaching in different places, and even in the open fields, to rouse the lower class of people from the last degree of inattention and ignorance, to a sense of religion. For this and his other labours, the name of George Whitefield will long be remembered with esteem and veneration.'

"3. That both these accounts are just and impar|tial, will readily be allowed; that is, as far as they go: but they go little farther than the outsides of his cha|racter: they shew you the preacher, but not the man, the christian, the saint of God. May I be permitted to add a little on this head, from a personal know|ledge of near forty years? Indeed, I am thoroughly sensible how difficult it is to speak on so delicate a sub|ject; what prudence is required to avoid both extremes, to say neither too little, nor too much? Nay, I know it is impossible to speak at all, to say either less or more, without incurring from some the former, from others the latter censure. Some will seriously think that too little is said; and others, that it is too much: but without attending to this, I will speak just what I know, before Him to whom we are all to give an account.

"4. Mention has already been made of his unpa|ralleled zeal, his indefatigable activity, his tender-heart|edness 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. Should we not mention that he had an heart suscepti|tible

of the most generous and the most tender friend|ship? 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 any thing 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 that life to his ser|mons, his conversations, his letters? Ye are witnesses.

"5. But away with the vile misconstruction of men of corrupt minds, who know of no love, but what is earthly and sensual. Be it remembered, at the same time, that he was endued with the most nice and unblemish|ed modesty. His office called him to converse very fre|quently and largely with women as well as men, and those of every age and condition. But his whole beha|viour toward them, was a practical comment on that advice of St. Paul to Timothy, "Intreat the elder wo|men as mothers, the younger as sisters, with all purity."

"6. Mean time, how suitable to the friendliness of his spirit, was the frankness and openness of his con|versation? Although it was as far removed from rude|ness on the one hand, as from guile and disguise on the other. Was not his 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 mani|festation of the truth, to commend himself to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

"7. Neither was he afraid of labour or pain, any more than of what man could do unto him, being equally,

'Patient in bearing ill and doing well.'

And this appeared in the steadiness wherewith he pur|sued whatever he undertook, for his Master's sake: witness one instance for all, the Orphan-house in Geor|gia,

which he began and perfected, in spite of all dis|couragements. Indeed, in whatever concerned him|self, he was pliant and flexible: in this case he was ea|sy to be intreated, easy to be either convinced or per|suaded; 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. Herein he did

'Stand as an iron pillar strong 'And steadfast as a wall of brass.'

"8. If it be enquired, what was the foundation of this integrity, of his sincerity, courage, patience, and every other valuable and amiable quality; it is easy to give the answer. It was not the excellency 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 tor|rent of eloquence which frequently bore down all be|fore 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 a fountain of tears. This it was which enabled him to pour out his soul in prayer, in a manner pecu|liar to himself, with such fulness and ease united toge|ther, with such strength and variety both of sentiment and expression.

"9. 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 peo|ple, and with so great an effect, on so many of their pre|cious

souls! Have we read or heard of any person since the Apostles, &c." (See the conclusion of this paragraph in pages 263, 264, immediately before the quotations from Funeral Sermons.)

* 4.28 On the same day (November 18, 1770) the Rev.

Mr. Venn preached at the Countess of Huntingdon's Chapel at Bath, on Isaiah viii. 18. "Behold I, and the children whom the Lord hath given me, are for signs and for wonders in Israel; from the Lord of Hosts, which dwelleth in Mount Zion." And of Mr. Whitefield he says, "Though the children of Christ are all for signs and for wonders in Israel, yet do they differ as one star differs from another star in glory. Talents, grace, and zeal, eminently dignify some; and draw the eyes of men upon them. In the foremost of this rank, doubt|less, is the Rev. Mr. Whitefield to be placed; for his doctrine was the doctrine of the Reformers, of the A|postles, and of Christ: it was the doctrine of free grace, of God's everlasting love. Through Jesus he preached the forgiveness of sins, and perseverance in holy living, through his faithfulness and power engaged to his peo|ple. And the doctrine which he preached he eminent|ly adorned by his zeal, and by his works. For if the greatness, extent, success, and disinterestedness of a man's labour can give him distinction amongst the chil|dren of Christ, we are warranted to affirm, that scarce any one of his Ministers since the Apostles days, has exceeded; scarce any one has equalled Mr. Whitefield.

"What a sign and wonder was this man of God in the greatness of his labours! One cannot but stand amazed that his mortal frame could for the space of near thirty years, without interruption, sustain the weight of them. For what is so trying to the human frame, in youth especially, as long-continued, frequent and violent straining of the lungs? Who, that knows their structure, would think it possible, that a person, little above the age of manhood, should speak in the compass of a single week (and that for years) in gene|ral, forty hours, and in very many weeks, sixty, and that to thousands; and after his labour, instead of taking any rest, should be offering up prayers, interces|sions, with hymns and spiritual songs, as his manner was in every house to which he was invited. The his|tory of the Church of Christ affords but very few in|stances

of men thus incessantly employing their whole strength, and as it were, every breath they drew, in the business of their sacred function. And the truth is, that, in point of labour, this extraordinary servant of God did as much in a few weeks, as most of those who exert themselves are able to do in the space of a year. Thus labouring not by fits and starts, but with constan|cy and perseverance, and ardour unabated, his mortal frame, about nine years since, began to sink under the weight of so much work. If, with the length and fre|quency of Mr. Whitefield's preaching, we consider the intenseness of voice and spirit with which he spoke, the greatness of his labours will appear perfectly asto|nishing: he knew not how to speak with less zeal, in his whole manner, than became the subjects of his dis|course. The total ruin of the human race by the fall; the complete recovery of believers in Christ, his dying love, and the unsearchable riches of his grace, to be known experimentally in this life, though fully to be displayed in the next: and the infatuation of sinners, led captive by their lusts down to the chambers of death: these grand truths, of more weight than words can paint, fired his whole soul; they transported him as much as earthly spirits are transported into vehemence, when they contend personally for their own property; he cried out therefore, as his dear Lord was wont to do, with a voice audible to an amazing distance: hence in a thousand instances, where the cause of God more coolly pleaded, would have been neglected, he gained it a hearing, and carried the day: for the unusual ear|nestness of the speaker roused the most stupid and le|thargic: it compelled them to feel; the matter must be momentous indeed, which the speaker was urging as a man would plead for his own life. Early and of|ten his body suffered for this very violent exertion of his strength: early and often his inside has bled a con|siderable quantity, and cried out, spare thyself: but, prodigal of life, in the best of causes, he would give himself no rest; expecting very soon to finish his course,

and infinitely desirous to save the souls condemned to die; he perished. Though this may be blamed as an excess, it was an excess far above the reach of a selfish mind, or an ordinary faith.

"Equal to the greatness and intenseness of his la|bours, was their extent. The abilities and grace of most teachers, have full employ in a small district, nor have common men talents for more. But when God lights up in the breast, an apostolic zeal for his own glory, an apostolic love for the souls of men, it seems reasonable to conclude, such an instrument is designed for the most extensive usefulness.

"Accordingly the compass of Mr. Whitefield's la|bours, exceeds any thing that others can pretend to. Not only in the south, the west, and north of England, did he lift up his voice, saying, "Repent, for the king|dom of heaven is come:" but in Wales, in Scotland, in Ireland, and America, from Georgia to Boston, vast mul|titudes in each country were witnesses of his zeal for the salvation of souls.

"And to crown all, he was abundantly successful in his vast labours, and disinterested too. The seals to his ministry, from first to last, I am persuaded, are more than would be credited, could the number be fixed. This is certain, his amazing popularity was only from his use|fulness; for he no sooner opened his mouth as a preach|er, than God commanded an extraordinary blessing up|on his word. The people were so deeply impressed with the sense of divine things from what he delivered, that, to his own great surprize they followed him from church to church, until the largest churches in London could no longer contain a fourth part of the crowds, which pressed to hear the word of God from his lips.

"Should any one say, few in comparison, besides the low, ignorant, common people were his followers; I would answer, the souls of the poor and ignorant, are to the full as precious as those of the rich and learned: and the mob have shown the justest discernment, and have received the truth; whilst men of wealth, and

learning, and education, have trampled it under their feet. Witness the chief Scribes and Pharisees, who re|jected both the Baptist and the Saviour, when the com|mon people justified God, and gave them both the ho|nour of being sent from him. Indeed in every age, we see the Scripture fulfilled, not many rich, not many mighty, not many wise men after the flesh are called; but God hath chosen the poor, rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom.

"However, when the fierceness of prejudice was worn off, numbers, who at first despised him, taught to do so by gross slanders, were happy under his ministry. And this honour was put upon him even to the last. He had a much larger audience statedly to hear him, than any man in the whole kingdom, perhaps in all Christendom.

"And that this vast multitude of people were ga|thered, just as the primitive churches of Christ, by the truth they heard, and the spiritual benefit they received under his word, is evident beyond a reasonable doubt. For if you trace his progress through the various cities and countries where he preached the Gospel, you will find as the case was with St. Paul, so it was with this servant of Christ. Many were turned by him from dark|ness to light, from the power of satan unto God, receiv|ing remission of their sins, and an inheritance among those that are sanctified, through faith in Christ. En|quire of the effects of his labours, from the only pro|per judges, those who live in the religious world, and they will aver, that many within their own knowledge, small as that circle must be, confess they owe their own selves to this faithful witness for his Lord. Add to this, that the letters he received of grateful acknowledg|ment from persons of all ages and conditions in life, for the spiritual blessings he had conveyed to them, would fill whole volumes. Nay, it is a well-known fact, that the conversion of mens' souls has been the fruit of a single sermon from his lips; so eminently was he made of God, a fisher of men. But he was not more successful

than he was disinterested in his labours; for though a vast multitude, (which must ever be the case with those whom God is pleased remarkably to own) followed him, he had still no ambition to stand as the head of a party. His great object was to exalt Christ crucified; and when his hearers were brought to the knowledge of salvation, his point was gained, and his soul was sa|tisfied. Hence neither in his sermons, nor more private exhortations, did he cast disparaging reflections upon other preachers of Christ. No base suggestion dropt from his mouth, as if to differ from him must be owing to blindness in the judgment, or coldness of the heart for the interests of holiness. Truly cordial and catholic in his love for all who appeared to love the Lord Jesus in sincerity, he never desired to see his congregation in|creased by those who had evangelical pastors of their own. Further, in proof of his disinterestedness, consi|der what he gained by his labours. The scourge of the tongue was let loose upon him, and his name was load|ed with the foulest calumnies; he was often in tumults, and more than once in danger of his life, by the rage of the people; he wore himself away in the service of souls; and when he died, he died quite exhausted by much speaking; but in his death, he received an im|mediate answer to his own prayer, 'That if it were consistent with the Divine Will, he might finish that day his Master's work.'

"For such a life, and such a death, (though in tears under our great loss) we must yet thank God. And though we are allowed to sorrow, because we shall ne|ver see or hear him again, we must rejoice that milli|ons have heard him so long, so often, and to such good effect; that out of this mass of people, multitudes are gone before him, we doubt not, to hail his entrance in|to the world of glory; and that in every period of life, from childhood to hoary age, many of his children in the Lord are still to follow; all to be his crown of re|joicing: the only effectual, everlasting confutation of his adversaries; that he ran not in vain, nor laboured in vain."

There were many other sermons preached on occasi|on of Mr. Whitefield's death, in which the descriptions of his character are the same in substance, with those already given * 5.1.

To be the subject of so many funeral sermons, both at home and abroad, is something singular; though

quite suitable to his extraordinary manner of life. But it was still more singular, to have a sermon preached upon his personal and ministerial character, in his own lifetime, and when he was but twenty-six years of age. This sermon was preached by the Rev. Mr. Josiah Smith of Charlestown, South-Carolina, and was published at Boston, with a recommendatory preface by the Rev. Dr. Colm••n and Mr. Cooper, in the year 1740. Of this it is worth while to make a short extract, after all that has been said; that by comparing it with the fu|neral sermons, the reader may see how consistent and uniform Mr. Whitefield's conduct was, from that early period of his ministry, till his death.

After speaking of his doctrine concerning Original Sin—Justification by faith alone—Regeneration—The inward feelings of the Spirit—Mr. Smith adds, "As to the manner of his preaching—With what a flow of words did he speak to us, upon the great concern of our souls! In what a flaming light did he set out eter|nity before us! How earnestly did he press Christ up|on us! How close, strong, and pungent were his appli|cations to the conscience; mingling light and heat; pointing the arrows of the Almighty at the heart of sinners, while he poured in the balm on the wounds of the contrite! How bold and courageous did he look? He was no flatterer. He taught the way of God in truth, and regarded not the persons of men. The politest and most modish of our vices he struck at, the most fashion|able entertainments; regardless of every ones pre|sence, but His in whose name he spake.

"As to his personal character, while he preaches up faith alone in our justification before God, he is care|ful to maintain good works. These things the grace of God teaches us. And how much of this doctrine has he transcribed into his life! How rich has he been in all good works! What an eminent pattern of piety towards God! How holy and unblameable in all conversation and godliness! How seasoned, how much to the use of edifying all his discourses! How naturally does he turn

them to religion? How much is he given to devotion himself, and how does he labour to excite it in others!

"He affects no party in religion, nor sets himself at the head of any. He is not bigotted to the lesser rites and forms of religion, while zealous enough in all its essentials. He professes love to good men of every de|nomination. His heart seems set upon doing good. He goes about his great Master's work with diligence and application, and with such chearfulness as would make one in love with a life of religion. He is proof against reproach and invective. When he is reviled, he revil|e••h not again; but prays heartily for all his enemies.

"He renders to all their due. While zealous for the things of God, is a friend to Caesar. And for charity, as it consists in compassion and acts of beneficence, we have few men like minded. Had he been under any cri|minal influence of a mercenary temper; had he col|lected monies for himself in his journeys, under pre|text of doing it for the poor, as he was slanderously re|ported, he had certainly a fair opportunity to enrich himself. But we have seen; and plain fact cannot be denied; that he casts all into the Treasury, and serves the tables of the poor with it. Strolling and vagabond orphans, without father, and without mother, without purse, and without friend, he seeks out, picks up, and adopts into his family. He is now building accommo|dations, and laying the best foundation for their sup|port and maintenance." Thus far Mr. J. Smith, who had the pleasure of seeing this character of his friend verified in the whole of his future life; and who, in his Funeral Sermon upon him at Charlestown, Oct. 28, 1770, has this remarkable expression, concerning a vi|sit he made to Mr. Whitefield at his Orphan-house: "It was a scene that made me think I was in heaven."

By a paper, written with Mr. Whitefield's own hand, of the contents of his imperfect manuscript, frequent|ly quoted in the above account of his life, it appears, that if he had lived to finish it, the conclusion would have been, "Reflections upon the whole, containing

arguments to prove the divinity of the work; and answers to objections against Fleid-preaching—Lay-preaching—Irregularities—And the blemishes that have attended it."

As he did not live to execute this design, the reader is referred to what has been published upon the subject by the Rev. Mess. Jonathan Edwards, Hobby, Shurt|liff, &c. The Rev. Mr. Newton preached a sermon at Olney, Nov. 11, 1770, on John v. 35.

He was a burning, and a shining light.

In which he speaks of Mr. Whitefield; an extract of which follows: "Some Ministers are burning and shining lights in a peculiar and eminent degree. Such a one, I doubt not, was the servant of God whose death we now lament. I have had some opportunities of looking over the His|tory of the Church in past ages, and I am not back|ward to say, that I have not read or heard of any per|son since the Apostle's days, of whom it may more em|phatically be said, "He was a burning and a shining light," than the late Mr. Whitefield, whether we consi|der the warmth of his zeal, the greatness of his ••i|sterial talents, or the extensive usefulness with which the Lord honoured him. I do not mean to praise the man, but the Lord who furnished him, and made him what he was. He was raised up to shine in a dark place. The state of religion, when he first appeared in public, was very low, in our established church. I speak the truth, though to some it may be an offensive truth. The doctrines of Grace, were seldom heard from the pulpit, and the life and power of godliness were little known. Many of the most spiritual among the Dissenters, were mourning under the sense of a great spreading declensi|on on their side▪ what a change has taken place throughout the land within a little more than thirty years, that is, since the time when the first set of de|spised Ministers came from Oxford! and how much of this change has been owing to God's blessing on Mr. Whitefield's labours, is well known to many who have lived through this period; and can hardly be denied

by those who are least willing to allow it. First, He was a burning light. He had an ardent zeal for God, an enflamed desire for the salvation of sinners. So that no labours could weary him, no difficulties or opposi|tion discourage him, hardly any limits could confine him; not content with the bounds of a county, or a kingdom, this messenger of good tidings preached the everlasting Gospel in almost every considerable place in England, Scotland and Ireland, and throughout the British empire in America, which is an extent of more than a thousand miles. Most of these places he visited again and again; nor did he confine his attention to places of note, but in the former part of his ministry, was ready to preach to few, as well as to many, where|ever a door was opened; though in the latter part of his life, his frequent illness, and the necessity of his more immediate charge, confined him more at home. In some of his most early excursions, the good Provi|dence of God led him here, and many, I trust, were made willing to rejoice in his light, and have reason to bless God, that ever they saw and heard him. 2dly, He was a shining light: his zeal was not like wild-fire, but directed by sound principles, and a sound judgment. In this part of his character, I would observe, 1st, Tho' he was very young when he came out, the Lord soon gave him a very clear view of the Gospel. In the ser|mons he published soon after his first appearance, there is the same evangelical strain observeable, as in those which he preached in his advanced years. Time and observation, what he felt, and what he saw, enlarged his experience, and gave his preaching an increasing ripeness and savour, as he grew older in the work; but from first to last he preached the same Gospel, and was determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 2dly, His steadiness and perseverance in the truth was the more remarkable, considering the difficulties and snares he was sometimes beset with. But the Lord kept him steady, so that neither the ex|ample,

nor friendship, nor importunity of those he dearly loved, were capable of moving him.

3dly, 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. They who attempted generally made themselves disagreeble. His familiar address, the power of his ac|tion, his marvellous talent in fixing the attention even of the most careless, I need not describe to those who have heard him, and to those who have not, the attempt would be vain. Other Ministers could, perhaps, preach the Gospel as clearly, and in general say the same things; but, I believe, no man living could say them in his way. Here I always thought him unequalled, and I hardly expect to see his equal while I live.

"4th, But that which finished his character as a shining light, and is now his crown of rejoicing, was the singular success which the Lord was pleased to give him in winning souls; what numbers entered the king|dom of glory before him, and what numbers are now lamenting his loss, who were awakened by his ministry. It seemed as if he never preached in vain. Perhaps there is hardly a place, in all the extensive compass of his labours, where some may not yet be found who thank|fully acknowledge him as their spiritual father. Nor was he an awakening preacher only wherever he came; if he preached but a single discourse, he usually brought a season of refreshment and revival with him, to those who had already received the truth. Great as his im|mediate and personal usefulness was, his occasional use|fulness (if I may so call it) was perhaps much greater. Many have cause to be thankful for him, who never saw or heard him. I have already observed, that there was a something peculiar in his manner of preaching, in which no person of sound judgment would venture to imitate him. But notwithstanding this, he was, in other respects, a signal and happy pattern and model 〈◊〉〈◊〉 preachers. He introduced a way of close and lively ap|plication to the conscience, for which I believe many

of the most admired and eminent preachers now living will not be ashamed, or unwilling to acknowledge themselves his debtors."

There was also a Sermon preached on the occasion by the Rev. Mr. Samuel Brewer, of Stepney, London, which his modesty would not permit him to print. And many others of the Ministers, both of the Church, and among the Dissenters in England, in their sermons and prayers upon the news of Mr. Whitefield's death, be|wailed the loss of so great a man, and so faithful and successful a servant of Christ; among these were the Rev. Mr. Romaine, Mr. Madan, Dr. Gibbons, and Dr. Trotter.

On the 6th of February 1771, the executors having received the probat of Mr. Whitefield's Will, Mr. Keen, who was perfectly acquainted with every parti|cular of his temporal affairs, immediately published it, with the following preamble:

As we make no doubt the numerous friends of the late Rev. Mr. George Whitefield will be glad of an opportunity of seeing a genuine copy of his last Will and Testament; his Executors have favoured us with a copy of the same, transmitted to them from the Or|phan-house in Georgia, and which they have proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury. And as it was Mr. Whitefield's constant declaration he never meant to raise either a purse or a party, it is to be re|marked, that almost the whole money he died possessed of, came to him within two or three years of his death in the following manner, viz. Mrs. Thomson of Tower-Hill, bequeathed him L. 500. By the death of his wife, including a bond of L. 300 he got L. 700. Mr. Whitmore bequeathed him L. 100 and Mr. Win|der L. 100; and it is highly probable, that had he liv|ed to reach Georgia from his late northern tour, he would have much lessened the above sums, by dispo|sing of them in the same noble and disinterested man|ner that all the public or private sums he has been en|trusted with, have been.

GEORGIA.

By his Excellency James Wright, Esq Captain Ge|neral, Governor and Commander in Chief of his Majesty's said Province of Georgia, Chancellor and Vice-Admiral of the same.

TO all to whom these presents shall come, greeting: Know ye, that Thomas Moodie, who hath certified the annexed copy from the original, in the Secretary's Office, is Deputy-Secretary of the said Province, and therefore all due faith and credit is, and ought to be, had and given to such his certificate.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the Great Seal of this his Majesty's said Pro|vince to be put and affixed, dated at Savannah the tenth day of December, in the year of our Lord 1770, and in the eleventh year of the reign of his Majesty King George the Third.

By his Excellency's command, J. WRIGHT.

THO. MOODIE, D. Secretary.

IN the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, three Persons but one God: I, George Whitefield, Clerk, at present residing at the Orphan-house Acade|my, in the Province of Georgia, in North-America, being through infinite mercy in more than ordinarily bodily health, and a perfectly sound and composed mind, knowing the certainty of death, and yet the un|certainty of the time I shall be called by it to my long wished-for home, to make this my last Will and Testa|ment, in manner and form following, viz. Imprimis, In sure and certain hope of a resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, I commit my body to the dust, to be buried in the most plain and decent man|ner; and knowing in whom I have believed, and being persuaded that he will keep that which I have commit|ted unto him, in the fullest assurance of faith I com|mend my soul into the hands of the ever-loving, alto|gether lovely, never-failing Jesus, on whose complete

and everlasting righteousness I entirely depend, for the justification of my person and acceptance of my poor, worthless, though, I trust, sincere performances, at that day when he shall come in the glory of his Father, his own glory, and the glory of his holy angels, to judge both the quick and dead. In respect to my outward American concerns which I have engaged in simply and solely for his great name's sake, I leave that build|ing, commonly called the Orphan-house, at Bethesda, in the Province of Georgia, together with all the other buildings lately erected thereon, and likewise all other buildings, lands, negroes, books, furniture, and every other thing whatsoever which I now stand possessed of in the Province of Georgia aforesaid, to that elect La|dy, that mother in Israel, that mirror of true and unde|filed religion, the Right Honourable Selina, Countess Dowager of Huntingdon; desiring, that as soon as may be after my decease, the plan of the intended Orphan-house, Bethesda College, may be prosecuted, or, if not practicable, or eligible, to pursue the present plan of the Orphan-house Academy, on its old foundation and usual channel; but if her Ladyship should be called to enter into her glorious rest before my decease, I be|queath all the buildings, lands, negroes, and every thing before mentioned which I now stand possessed of in the Province of Georgia aforeseid, to my dear first fellow-traveller, and faithful, invariable friend, the Honour|able James Habersham, Esq President of his Majesty's Honourable Council: and should he survive her Lady|ship, I earnestly recommend him as the most proper person to succeed her Ladyship, or to act for her dur|ing her Ladyship's life-time, in the affairs of the Or|phan-house Academy. With regard to my outward affairs in England; whereas there is a building com|monly called the Tabernacle, set apart many years ago for Divine Worship, I give and bequeath the said Ta|bernacle, with the ajacent house in which I usually re|side, when in London, with the stable and coach-house in the yard adjoining, together with all books, furni|ture,

and every thing else whatsoever that shall be found in the house and premises aforesaid; and also the build|ing commonly called Tottenham-Court Chapel, toge|ther with all the other buildings, houses, stable, coach-house, and every thing else whatsoever which I stand possessed of in that part of the town, to my worthy, trusty, tried friends, Daniel West, Esq in Churchstreet, Spitalfields, and Mr. Robert Keen, Woolen-Draper, in the Minories, or the longer survivor of the two. As to the monies, which a kind Providence, especially of late, in a most unexpected way, and unthought of means, hath vouchsafed to entrust me with; I give and bequeath the sum of one hundred pounds sterling to the Right Honourable Countess Dowager of Hunting|don aforesaid, humbly beseeching her Ladyship's ac|ceptance of so small a mite, as a pepper-corn of acknow|ledgment for the undeserved, unsought-for honour her Ladyship conferred upon me, less than the least of all, to be one of her Ladyship's Domestic Chaplains. Item, I give and bequeath to my dearly beloved friend, the Honourable James Habersham aforesaid, my late wife's gold watch, and ten pounds for mourning; to my dear old friend, Gabriel Harris, Esq of the city of Glouces|ter, who received and boarded me in his house when when I was helpless and destitute, above thirty-five years ago, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds; to my humble faithful servant and friend, Mr. Ambrose Wright, if in my service and employ, either in England or America, or elsewhere, at the time of my decease, I give and bequeath the sum of five hundred pounds; to my brother, Mr. Richard Whitefield, give and be|queath the sum of fifty pounds; to my brother, Mr. Thomas Whitefield, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds, to be given him at the discretion of Mr. Robert Keen; to my brother-in-law Mr. James Smith, Hosier, in the city of Bristol, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds, and thirty pounds also for family mourning; to my niece, Mrs. Frances Hartford of Bath, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds, and twen|ty

pounds for family mourning; to Mr. J. Crane, now a faithful steward at the Orphan-house Academy, I give and bequeath the sum of forty pounds; to Mr. Benjamin Stirk, as an acknowledgment of his past ser|vice at Bethesda, I give and bequeath the sum of ten pounds for mourning; to Peter Edwards, now at the Orphan-house Academy, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds; to William Trigg, at the same place, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds; both the sums aforesaid to be laid out, or laid up for them, at the discretion of Mr. Ambrose Wright: to Mr. Tho|mas Adams, of Rodbourough in Gloucestershire, my only surviving first fellow-labourer, and beloved much in the Lord, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds; to the Rev. Mr. Howel Davis, of Pembroke|shire, in South Wales, that good soldier of Jesus Christ; to Mr. Torial Joss, Mr. Cornelius Winter, and all my other dearly beloved present stated assistant-preachers at the Tabernacle and Tottenham-Court Chapel, I give and bequeath ten pounds each for mourning; to the three brothers of Mr. Ambrose Wright, and the wife of his brother Mr. Robert Wright, now faithfully and skilfully labouring and serving at the Orphan-house Academy, I give and bequeath the sum of ten pounds each for mourning; to Mr. Richard Smith, now a di|ligent attendant on me, I give and bequeath the sum of fifty pounds, and all my wearing apparel which I shall have with me in my journey through America, or on my voyage to England, if it should please an all-wise God to shorten my days in either of those situations. Finally, I give and bequeath the sum of one hundred pounds, to be distributed at the discretion of my exe|cutors, herein after-mentioned, for mourning among my old London servants, the poor widows at Totten|ham-Court Chapel, and the Tabernacle poor, especial|ly my old trusty, disinterested friend and servant, Mrs. Elizabeth Wood. All the other residue, if there be any residue, of monies, goods, and chattels, or whatever profits may arise from the sale of my books, or any

manuscripts that I may leave behind, I give and be|queath to the Right Honourable the Countess Dow|ager of Huntingdon, or, in case of her Ladyship's being deceased at the time of my departure, to the Honour|able James Habersham, Esq before-mentioned, after my funeral expences and just debts are discharged, towards paying off my arrears that may be due on the account of the Orphan-house Academy, or for annual prizes as a reward for the best three orations that shall be made in English on the subjects mentioned in a paper annex|ed this my will. And I do hereby appoint the Ho|nourable James Habersham, Esq aforesaid, to be my executor in respect to my affairs in the Province of Georgia, and my trusty tried dearly beloved friends Charles Hardy, Esq Daniel West, Esq and Mr. Ro|bert Keen, to be executors of this my last Will and Testament, in respect of my affairs in England, begging each to accept of a mourning ring. To all my other christian benefactors, and more intimate acquaintance, I leave my most hearty thanks and blessing, assuring them that I am more and more convinced of the un|doubted reality, and infinite importance of the grand Gospel truths which I have from time to time deliver|ed; and am so far from repenting my delivering them in an itinerant way, that had I strength equal to my inclina|tion, I would preach them from pole to pole, not only because I have found them to be the power of God to the salvation of my own soul, but because I am as much assured that the Great Head of the Church hath called me by his word, providence and spirit, to act in this way, as that the sun shines at noon day. As for my enemies, and misjudging, mistaken friends, I most free|ly and heartily forgive them, and can only add, that the last tremendous day will soon discover what I have been, what I am, and what I shall be, when time itself shall be no more; and therefore, from my inmost soul, I close all, by crying, Come, Lord Jesus, come quick|ly; even so Lord Jesus, Amen and Amen.

GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

This was written with the Testator's own hand, and at his desire, and in his presence, sealed, signed, and delivered, at the Orphan-house Academy, in the Province of Georgia, before us witnesses, Anno Do|mini, March the twenty second, one thousand se|ven hundred and seventy.

Signed,

• ROBERT BOLTON,
• THOMAS DIXON,
• CORNELIUS WINTER.

N. B. I also leave a mourning ring to my honour|ed and dear friends and disinterested fellow-labourers, the Rev. Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, in token of my indissoluble union with them, in heart and christian affection, notwithstanding our difference in judgment about some particular points of doctrine.—Grace be with all them, of whatever denomination, that love our Lord Jesus, our common Lord, in sincerity.

GEORGIA, Secretary's Office.

A true copy, taken from the original in this Office, examined and certified; and I do further certify that the same was duly proved; and the Honourable James Habersham, Esq one of the executors therein named, was duly qualified executor before his Excellency lency James Wright, Esq Governor and Ordinary of the said Province, this 10th day of December, 1770.

THO. MOODIE, D. Sec.

Concerning the manner in which Mr. Whitefield's Tabernacle and Chapel are at present supplied, the compiler has received the following information.:

HAVING by his Will left both of his places of worship, his houses, library, and all things appertaining thereto, to two of his executors in survivorship, they have been enabled, through the abundant goodness of God, to carry on the work in the same manner as in Mr. Whitefield's life-time, without the least diminu|tion either of largeness of the congregations, or the vi|sible power of God attending the ministry ther••. And as neither of them are Ministers, but engaged in ex|tensive business, it appears the more wonderful, and

shews the work to be begun and carried on by the pow|er of God alone; and it is their earnest prayer and stu|dy that it may be transmitted down, and faithful Mi|nisters and upright persons raised to carry it on when their heads are laid in the dust. Two of his fellow-labourers were taken off by death, whilst he was last abroad, viz. the Rev. Mr. Howel Davie••▪ a Clergy|man, and Mr. Thomas Adams, a layman; and a lit|tle before, Mr. Middleton, all tried and faithful Minis|ters; but the Lord hath wonderfully raised up others in their stead. The present Ministers are chiefly these, the Rev. Mr. Kinsman of Plymouth, the Rev. Mr. Edwards of Leeds, the Rev. Mr. Knight of Hallifax, and the Rev. Mr. Ashburner, of Pool in Dortsetshire; these visit London once, and if wrote for, twice a year. The constant ones upon the spot are, Mr. Joss and Mr. Brooksbanks. The Rev. Mr. De Courcy, and the Rev. Mr. Piercy, and other Clergymen, have often assisted. Besides these, the proprietors have been fa|voured with the occasional labours of Mr. Rowland Hill, and Mr. Heath of Plymouth: also of many wor|thy Clergymen and Dissenting Ministers from the coun|try, who esteemed it their privilege to preach to very large, serious, and attentive congregations, whose hearts have been filled with thankfulness, and at the same time engaged in prayer for every such Minister; and an unusual blessing has commonly attended both sowers and reapers; and it is the earnest desire of the proprietors, that the pleasure of the Lord may thus prosper in their hands. They purpose, through the blessing of God, to let the pulpits be open to every disinterested Minister that may occasionally come to town, of good moral character, sound in the faith, of moderate Calvinistical principles, without distinction of parties or denominations, whose talents are suitable to preach with life and power to large congregations. And hope for the concurrence of all well-wishers to the prosperity of Zion.

THE END.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The Rev. Mr. Samuel Whitefield, great grand|father of George, was born at Wantage in Berkshire, and was Rector of North Ledyard in Wiltshire. He removed afterwards to Rockhampton. He had five daughters, two of whom were married to clergymen, Mr. Perkins and Mr. Lovingham: And two sons, Sa|muel, who succeeded his father in the cure of Rock|hampton, and died without issue; and Andrew, who was a private gentleman, and lived retired upon his estate. Andrew had fourteen children, of whom Thomas was the eldest, the father of Mr. George Whitefield.
• * 1.2

  Elizabeth, the daughter, was twice reputably married at Bristol. John, his son, lies interred with the family in St. Mary Decrypt church in Gloucester. Joseph died an infant. Andrew settled in trade at Bristol, and died in the twenty-eighth year of his age. James was Captain of a ship, and died suddenly at Bath. Thomas and Richard are still living. The fa|ther died December 1716. The mother continued a widow seven years, and was then married to Mr. Longden, an ironmonger in Gloucester, by whom she had no issue. She died December 1751, in the seven|ty-first year of her age.
• † 1.3

  See the two first parts of his life at the beginning. Confessions of a like nature, are to be found in the writings of St. Augustin.
• * 1.4

  Preface to his Analogy, May 1736.
• * 1.5

  Letter xvi.
• * 1.6

  See Letter xxi.
• † 1.7

  Some hung upon the rails, others climed up the leads of the church, and all together made the church itself so hot, with their breath, that the steam would fall from the pillars like drops of rain.

  Ibid.
• * 1.8

  See Letter xxviii.
• * 1.9

  Here begins a Manuscript of Mr. Whitefield's, from which several passages are taken in the following account. It is referred to by M. S.
• * 1.10

  M. S.
• * 1.11

  M. S.
• * 1.12

  He not only preached to them; but gave them notice, that he intended speaking to them, one by one, to see what account they could give of their faith.—Ibid. At this time he began his

  Observa|tion on select passages of Scripture turned into catechetical questions,

  printed in vol IV. of his works.
• * 1.13

  This was the only adult, except a soldier (who had killed himself at Gibraltar by perpetual drinking) that died out of all that were on board.

  M. S.
• † 1.14

  M. S.
• * 1.15

  It was first proposed to me by my dear friend Mr. Charles Wesley, who, with General Ogle|thorpe, had concerted a scheme for carrying o•• such a design, before I had any thoughts of going abroad myself.

  Vol. III. p. 463.
• * 1.16

  M. S.
• * 1.17

  M. S. and Journals.
• * 1.18

  God gave us a most pleasant Gospel Christmas season, and such a happy beginning of a New-Year as I had never seen before.

  M. S.
• † 1.19

  See Dr. Woodward's Account of the Rise and Pro••••ss of the Religious Societies in the City of London, &c.
• * 1.20

  M. S.
• * 1.21

  M. S.
• * 1.22

  M. S.
• * 1.23

  Words cannot well express the glorious dis|plays of Divine Grace, which we saw, and heard of, and felt.

  M. S.
• * 1.24

  Once upwards of twenty pounds were collec|ted in halfpence.

  M. S.
• * 1.25

  For the manner in which he employed his time on board, see his Journals and Letters of this period. A little before he sailed, he finished his Answer to the Bishop of London's Pastoral letter. And during the voyage, he wrote his Letter to the Religious Socie|ties of England. See vol. IV. of his works.
• * 1.26

  Journals, Nov. 22, 1739.
• * 1.27

  M. S.
• * 1.28

  M. S.
• * 1.29

  M. S.
• * 1.30

  Many negroes came; some of them inquir|ing, Have I a soul?

  M. S.
• * 1.31

  M. S.
• * 1.32

  See his works, vol. IV.
• * 1.33

  The rest of Mr. Seward's journal was written mostly during his passage to England, where he ar|rived June 19, and with which it concludes. Mr. Whitefield, in the new edition of his Journals, 1756, observes,

  April 28, 1740. This was the last time I saw my worthy friend; for, before my return to England, he was entered into his rest, having left behind, a glorious testimony of the transforming efficacy of converting grace. This hath also been the happy case of his brother Benjamin, who late|ly finished his course with joy.
• † 1.34

  For a more particular account of Mr. Bryan's family, and of his visit to Mr. Whitefield, and what followed upon it, See No. I. of Living Christianity delineated in the Diaries and letters of Mr. Hugh Bryan and Mrs. Mary Hutson. Recommended by the Rev. Dr. Conder and Dr. Gibbons.
• * 1.35

  See Prince's Christian History, or, historical collections of the success of the Gospel, vol. II. where the facts are set down in the order of time.
• * 1.36

  See Works, vol. IV.
• * 2.1

  Journals, December 1, 1740.
• † 2.2

  At Charlestown, the Commissary was going to proceed against him for correcting and preparing for the press, a letter written by Mr. Hugh B—n, in which it was hinted, that the clergy break their canons. He also laid him under suspension for omit|ting to use the form of prayer, prescribed in the communion book, when officiating in a dissenting con|gregation.—But Mr. Whitefield gave security for his appearance, and appealed home.
• * 2.3

  Letter CCLXXIV.
• † 2.4

  Letter CCLXXXVI.
• * 2.5

  M. S.
• † 2.6

  M. S.
• * 2.7

  See his Journals, and his Letters to the Rev. Mr. R. E. and the Rev. Mr. E. E.

  In his last to Mr. E. E. before coming to Scot|land (Letter CCLXXX) he writes,

  May 16, 1741. This morning, I received a kind letter from your brother Ralph, who thinks it best for me wholly to join the Associate Presbytery, if it should please God to send me into Scotland. This I cannot altogether come into. I come only as an occasion|al preacher, to preach the simple Gospel to all that are willing to hear me, of whatever denomi|nation. I write this, that there may not be the least misunderstanding between us. I love and honour the Associate Presbytery in the bowels of Jesus Christ: but, let them not be offended, if in all things, I cannot immediately fall in with them.

  To the same purpose he writes to Mr. R. E. May 23, 1741. Letter CCLXXXVIII.
• * 2.8

  Letter CCCXXXIX.
• † 2.9

  M. S. See also Letter CCCXV••I. to Mr. D. E. August 13, 1741; and to the Rev. Mr. R. E. August 24.
• * 2.10

  Among his particular friends were the Marquis of Lothian, the Earl of Leven, Lord Rae, Lady Mary Hamilton, Lady Frances Gardiner, Lady Jean Nimmo, Lady Dirleton. See his Letters from Au|gust to December 1741.
• † 2.11

  Particularly to Mr. Wilson of Maxton. See Let|ter CCCXXXVIII.
• ‡ 2.12

  Among these was Cambuslang, and some places in the north of Scotland. See Letter CCCLIX. wherein he mentions an invitation from the Ministers of the Presbytery, that meets at Dornock in Suther|land.
• * 2.13

  Glasgow Weekly History, No. XXVII.
• * 2.14

  Prince's Christian history, No. XXXIV,
• † 2.15

  See Letter CCCCXXII.
• * 2.16

  To Mr. Muir.

  Edinburgh, August 6, 1743. As you desire a short account of the two societies I am concerned in, I shall give it in a very few words. They consist of twenty-five or twenty-six members each; and, except a very few, are all persons whose concern about religion, be|gan in the late awakening. I never saw the ends of such societies answered near so well, as among these. I think, I may safely declare, that I was never witness to so much of real christian exercise among any persons I have known, as I have ob|served, to my great satisfaction, among most of them. It is most amazing to observe, how much some of them, who at their first concern, were brutishly ignorant of every thing good, have now made such advances in knowledge, that they ex|cel those who were formerly far before them. The concern about their own salvation is not on|ly remarkable, but the abiding earnestness they show in their prayers, for the increase of the Re|deemer's kingdom, is most desirable; and the care they show in watching over one another, is one con|vincing evidence of their brotherly love, and true christian tenderness. I might say a great deal more, but must conclude. I am, &c. A. Bowie.

  There is also notice taken of some remarkable con|versions, and of the reformation observed in the Edin|burgh Hospitals. In Numbers X. XI. XV. of Glas|gow Weekly history.
• * 2.17

  Glasgow weekly history, No. XIII.
• * 2.18

  Glasgow Weekly History, XXVIII.
• † 2.19

  Of those who differed from their brethren, as to their judgment about many things, was Mr. B—, one of the Ministers of Aberdeen. After he had prayed and preached against Mr. Whitefield, in his hearing, and quoted some passages of his first printed sermons, as heterodox: Sermon being ended, Mr. Ogilvie gave notice, that Mr. Whitefield would preach in about half an hour. The interval being so short, the Magistrates retired into the Session-house, and the congregation patiently waited,

  big with ex|pectation, (says Mr. Whitefield) of hearing my resentment. At the time appointed, I went up, and took no other notice of the good man's ill-tim|ed zeal, than to observe in some part of my dis|course, That if the good old Gentleman had seen some of my later writings, wherein I had cor|rected several of my former mistakes, he would not have expressed himself in such strong terms. The people being thus diverted from controversy with man, were deeply impressed with what they heard from the word of God.

  Letter CCCLXI.
• * 2.20

  Glasgow Weekly History, No. XIII.
• * 2.21

  This year 1741, he received the compliment honorary Burgess tickets from the towns of Stirling, Glasgow, Paisley, and Aberdeen. And in 1742, from Irvine. And 1762, from Edinburgh.
• * 2.22

  Her maiden name was Elizabeth Burnell.
• * 2.23

  Letter CCCLXXXIX.
• * 2.24

  Letter CCCXCVIII.
• † 2.25

  Letter CCCCVII.
• * 2.26

  M. S. and Letters CCCCXI. CCCCXII.
• * 2.27

  Prince's Christian History, No. x.
• * 2.28

  Prince's Christian History, No. XI.
• * 2.29

  Particulars may be found in the attested narra|tive of the work at Cambuslang; Dr. Webster's Di|vine Influence the true Spring, &c. and in Mr. Robe's Narratives and Monthly History. A view of the most memorable passages, is given in vol. II. book IV. chap. vi. of Hist. Coll. relating to the Success of the Gospel, printed in 1754; where is also some account of the abiding fruits of these religious impressions.
• * 2.30

  The reader who wants to see the objections against the work at Cambuslang, &c. fully refuted, may con|sult, (besides the books mentioned in the last note) Mr. Robe's letters to Mr. Fisher; and Mr. Jonathan Edward's Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spi|rit of God.—And as to the argument from the good|ness of the fruits, which is level to the capacities of all, the Compiler thinks it his duty to add, that among his acquaintance, who were the subjects of that work, the fruits were generally both good and lasting.
• * 2.31

  Glasgow Weekly Hist. No. XXIII.
• * 2.32

  The event verified this conjecture. In his M. S. notes, several years after, he makes the following remark:

  Such a work (the religious concern at Cambuslang) so very extensive, must meet with great opposition. My collections for the orphans gave a great handle; but the chief opposition was made by the Seceders, who, though they had pray|ed for me at the most extravagant rate, now gave out that I was agitated by the devil. Taking it for granted, that all converted persons must take the covenant, and that God had left the Scotch established churches long ago, and that he would never work by the hands of a curate of the Church of England, they condemned the whole work, as the work of the devil; and kept a fast through all Scotland, to humble themselves, because the devil was come down in great wrath, and to pray that the Lord would rebuke the destroyer (for that was my title.) But the Lord rebuked these good men; for they split among themselves, and excommuni|cated one another. Having afterwards a short in|terview with Mr. Ralph Erskine, we embraced each other, and he said, We had seen strange things.
• * 2.33

  Letter CCCCXXII.
• * 2.34

  M. S.
• † 2.35

  Letter CCCCXXVI.
• ‡ 2.36

  Letter CCCCXLIX.
• § 2.37

  A Gentleman now living, of an irreproachable character, thus writes to the Compiler, April 8, 1771.

  When Mr. Whitefield was preaching at Kilmarnock, on the 23d of August, 1742, from these words, And out of his fulness have all we re|ceived, and grace for grace, I thought I never heard such a sermon on the fulness of grace that is trea|sured up in Christ Jesus: and can truly say, that I felt the efficacy of the Holy Spirit upon my soul, during that discourse. I afterwards shut up my|self in my chamber, during the remaining part of that day; and before I laid myself down to rest, I made a solemn and serious dedication of myself to God, by way of covenant, extended and sub|scribed the same with my hands, and, I think, had communion with God in so doing; to which I have often had recourse since, in adhering thereto, and in renewing thereof; though my life since has been attended with many backslidings from God, and have been perfidious in his covenant; yet I still rejoice in his salvation through precious Christ. And it is refreshing to behold the place at this very day, as I have often done since. I from the aera abovementioned, always looked upon Mr. Whitefield as my spiritual father, and frequent|ly heard him afterwards in Edinburgh and Glas|gow with much satisfaction. It always gave me joy, the mentioning of his name, and grieved me when he was reproached. And I can very well remember, that when Cape Breton was taken, I happened to be then at Edinburgh; and being in|vited to breakfast with Mr. Whitefield, I never in all my life enjoyed such another breakfast. He gave the company a fine and lively descant upon that part of the world, made us all join in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving, and concluded with a most devout and servent prayer. In the evening of that day, he preached a most excellent thanks|giving sermon, from the first two verses of the cxxvith psalm.
• * 2.38

  I never preached with so much apparent suc|cess before. At Greenock, Irvine, Kilbrid, Kil|marnock, and Stewarton, the concern was great: at the three last very extraordinary.

  Letter CCCCXLIX.
• † 2.39

  Letter CCCCXXXV.
• ‡ 2.40

  Particularly,

  A vindication of the work of God in New-England.

  See Work vol. IV. and seve|ral Letters about the affairs of the Orphan-house, some of his friends there having met with harsh treatment from the Magistrates of Savannah. See Letter CCCCXXXIX, to Mr. B—, and Letter CCCCXL. to the Trus|tees for Georgia, and Letters CCCCXLII, CCCCXLIII, to General Oglethorpe, and to Thomas J—, Esq in Georgia.

  At this time also he published at Edinburgh, a continuation of the account of the Orphan-house, from January 1741, to June 1742.—See his Works, vol. III. where you have the whole account continu|ed, from time to time, till April 1770.
• * 2.41

  Letter CCCCLVII.
• † 2.42

  The manner in which the Spaniards were repuls|ed with remarks upon the kindness of Providence to the colony, may be see in an extract of General Oglethorpe's proclamation for a thanksgiving, in Letter DII.
• * 2.43

  Letter CCCCXCI.
• † 2.44

  Letter DIV.
• ‡ 2.45

  Letter DVI.
• * 2.46

  It was the great sessions. The Justices desir|ed I would stay till they rose, and they would come. Accordingly they did, and many thou|sands more; and several people of quality.

  Let|ter CCCCCIX.
• † 2.47

  The work begun by Mr. Jones, spread itself far and near, in South and North Wales, where the Lord had made Mr. Howel Harris an instrument of converting several clergy as well as laymen. Last year I visited several places, but now I went to more, and in every place found, that not one half had been told me. The power of God at the sacrament, under the ministry of Mr. Rowland, was enough to make a person's heart burn within him. At seven of the morning I have seen per|haps ten thousand from different parts, in the midst of sermon, crying, Gogunniant—bendyitti— ready to leap for joy. Associations were now form|ed, and monthly or quarterly meetings appointed, and a closer connection established between the En|glish and Welch, so that several came over to assist.

  M.S.
• * 2.48

  Letter DXIV.
• † 2.49

  At one of these associations, a motion was made to separate from the established Church: but (says Mr. Whitefield, Letter DXXXIII.)

  by far the greater part strenuously opposed it, and with good reason: for, as we enjoy such great liberty under the mild and gentle government of his present Ma|jesty King George, I think we can do him, our country, and the cause of God, more service in ranging up and down, preaching repentance to|wards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, to those multitudes who would neither come into church or meeting, but who are led by curiosity to follow us into the fields —This is a way to which God has affixed his seal for many years past.
• ‡ 2.50

  Letter DXIX.
• * 2.51

  Letter DXL.
• † 2.52

  Here is a clergyman about eighty years of age, but not above one year old in the school of Christ. He lately preached three times, and rode forty miles the same day. A young Oxonian who came with him, and many others were deeply af|fected. I cannot well describe with what power the word was attended. Dear Mr. Hervey, one of our first Methodists at Oxford, and who was lately a curate here, had laid the foundation.

  Letter DXL.
• ‡ 2.53

  Many prayers were put up by the worthy Rector and others, for an outpouring of God's blessed Spirit. They were answered. Arrows of c••nviction flew so thick, and so fast, and such an universal weeping prevailed from one end of the congregation to the other, that good Mr. J— their Minister, could not help going from seat to seat to speak, encourage, and comfort the wound|ed souls.

  Letter DXLI.
• * 2.54

  It is near eleven at night, and nature calls for rest. I have preached five times this day, and, weak as I am, through Christ strengthening me, I could preach five times more.

  Letter DXLIII.
• † 2.55

  I was kindly received by Mr. Williams. Ma|ny friends were at his house. I was greatly re|freshed to find what a sweet savour of good Mr. Baxter's doctrine, works, and discipline remained to this day.

  Letter DXLIV.
• ‡ 2.56

  Letter DXLVII.
• * 2.57

  Letter DXLIX, DL.—See an account of this trial in his works, vol. IV.
• * 2.58

  See his works, vol. IV. where is also his Answer to the Second Part of the Observations, &c. in a se|cond letter to the Bishops, written during his voyage to America that year.
• * 2.59

  M. S. Upon mentioning Biddeford, he adds here a character of Mr. Hervey: it is pity he did not write it down.—However, we have a sketch of it in Letter DCCLXIII.

  Your sentements concerning Mr. H—'s book, are very just. The author of it is my old friend; a most heavenly-minded crea|ture, one of the first of the Methodists, who is contented with a small cure, and gives all that he has to the poor. He is very weak, and daily wai•••• for his dissolution.
• * 2.60

  Letter DLII.
• * 2.61

  M. S.
• * 2.62

  August 4. Our convoy is now come. I desire

  you all to bless God for what he is doing in these parts; for preaching in the dock is now like preaching in the Tabernacle. Our morning lec|tures are very delightful. O! the thousands that flock to the preaching of Christ's Gospel.

  —Letters DLVIII, DLIX.

  P. S.

  I must tell you one thing more. There is a ferry over to Plymouth. The ferrymen are now so much my friends, that they will take no|thing of the multitudes that come to hear me preach; saying, 'God forbid that we should sell the word of God.
• † 2.63

  His letter to the Clergy of the Diocess of Litch|field and Coventry, is dated during this voyage.
• * 2.64

  M. S. and Letter DLXII. See Works vol. IV.
• * 2.65

  See Prince's Christian History, or historical col|lections, &c. Vol. II. page 304) where are attestations of a above a hundred and twenty Ministers to the goodness of the work.
• † 2.66

  Thus it was at the Reformation in Germany.
• ‡ 2.67

  He wrote an answer, to a testimony by Harvard College. See Works, vol. IV.
• * 2.68

  Letter DLXVII.
• * 2.69

  Letter DLXXII.
• * 2.70

  M. S. and Letter DLXXII.
• † 2.71

  See Mr. Prince's Sermon on that occasion.
• ‡ 2.72

  Letter DLXVII.
• * 2.73

  M. S.
• † 2.74

  See his Life and Journals.
• * 2.75

  See more fully narrated Hist. Coll. Book IV. Chap. v. §. 22.
• * 2.76

  See his Works, vol. IV.
• * 2.77

  M. S. and Letter DCLXXIII.
• * 2.78

  It is also said, that David Hume, Esq of Edin|burgh, was a hearer of Mr. Whitefield's and was much taken with his eloquence. Such Testimonies are set down, not for their weight, but their singularity.
• * 2.79

  See his Letter on this subject to Mr. M'Laurin Letters DCCCXXXIV. and DCCCLXVIII.
• * 2.80

  Letter DCCXLIV.
• † 2.81

  Letter DCCXXXIII. and M. S.
• ‡ 2.82

  Letter DCCXLVII.
• § 2.83

  Letters DCCLXXXVII. DCCCXCVII. and DCCCCXXIII.
• * 2.84

  Letter DCCCXXX.
• † 2.85

  See his Works, vol. IV.
• ‡ 2.86

  Letter DCCXLIII.
• § 2.87

  Letter DCCLI.
• * 2.88

  Letter DCCLXII.
• † 2.89

  Letter DCCLXXV.
• ‡ 2.90

  Letters DCCLXXVIII, DCCLXXIX.
• § 2.91

  Letters DCCLXXXI, DCCLXXXVI.
• * 2.92

  Letter DCCCXIX.
• † 2.93

  Letter DCCCXIV.
• ‡ 2.94

  Letter DCCCXVI.
• § 2.95

  Letter DCCCXX.
• ‖ 2.96

  Four of Mr. Wesley's Preachers were present, and three Clergymen, Mr. Bennet aged fourscore, Mr. Thompson, and Mr. Grigg.

  Letter DCCCXXIV.

  I found, as I went along, a most blessed work had carried on by the instrumentality of the Messrs. Wesleys, and their fellow-labourers.

  M. S.
• * 2.97

  Letters DCCCXXIV, XXV, and XXVI.
• † 2.98

  Mr. Harvey thus wrote of this interview to a friend;

  I have seen lately, that most excellent Minister of the ever-blessed Jesus, Mr. Whitefield. I dined, supped, and spent the evening with him at North|ampton, in company with Dr. Doddridge, and two pious, ingenious Clergymen of the Church of Eng|land, both of them known to the learned world by their valuable writings. And surely, I never spent a more delightful evening, or saw one that seemed to make nearer approaches to the felicity of heaven. A Gentleman of great worth and rank in the town, invited us to his house, and gave us an elegant treat; but how mean was his provision, how coarse his delicacies, compared with the fruit of my friend's lips; they dropped as the honey|comb, and were a well of life. Surely, people do not know that amiable and examplary man, or else, I cannot but think, instead of depreciating, they would applaud and love him. For my part, I ne|ver beheld so fair a copy of our Lord, such a liv|ing image of the Saviour, such exalted delight in God, such enlarged benevolence to man, such a steady faith in the divine promises, and such a fervent zeal for the divine glory; and all this, with|out the least moroseness of humour, or extravagan|cies of behaviour; sweetned with the most engag|ing chearfulness of temper, and regulated by all the sobriety of reason, and wisdom of Scripture; in so much, that I cannot forbear applying the wise man's encomium of an illustrious woman, to this eminent Minister of the everlasting Gospel; "Many 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
• * 2.99

  Letter DCCCXXXII.
• † 2.100

  Letter DCCCXXXV.
• ‡ 2.101

  Letter DCCCXXXVIII.
• * 2.102

  Letters DCCCXL, and XLIX.
• † 2.103

  Letters DCCCLI, and LV.
• * 2.104

  Letter DCCCLXVIII.
• * 2.105

  Letters DCCCXCI, DCCCXCII.
• † 2.106

  M. S.
• * 2.107

  M. S.
• * 2.108

  Letter DCCCCI.
• † 2.109

  Letter DCCCCXII.
• * 2.110

  Letters DCCCCX, DCCCCXI.
• † 2.111

  Letters DCCCCXVII.
• ‡ 2.112

  Letter DCCCCXXV.
• * 2.113

  Letter DCCCCXXVI.
• † 2.114

  Letter DCCCCXXXI.
• * 2.115

  Letter DCCCCXIV.
• † 2.116

  Letter DCCCCXX.
• ‡ 2.117

  Letters DCCCCXXXV, DCCCCXXXVI.
• * 2.118

  Letters DCCCCXV, DCCCCLXIII.
• * 2.119

  Letter DCCCCLXVIII.
• † 2.120

  Letter DCCCCLXXVI.
• * 2.121

  Letter DCCCCLXXXIV.
• * 2.122

  Letter DCCCCXCII.
• † 2.123

  Letter DCCCCXCVI.
• ‡ 2.124

  Letter DCCCCXCVII.
• * 2.125

  Letter DCCCCXCIX.
• † 2.126

  Letter MIV, MV.
• ‡ 2.127

  Letter MV.
• § 2.128

  Letters MVI, VII, and VIII.
• * 2.129

  His letters written about the beginning of the new year, shew the habitual frame of his mind.

  Near forty years old, and such a dwarf! The win|ter come already, and so little done in the summer.

  Again,

  I heartily wish your Lordship, not the compliments but the blessings of the season; even all those blessings that have been purchased for a lost world, by the death and sufferings of an in|carnate GOD.

  Letters MXV, MXVI.
• † 2.130

  Letter MXXIX.
• ‡ 2.131

  Letters MXXX, MXXXII.
• * 2.132

  Letter MXXXV.
• † 2.133

  Letter MXXXVI.
• * 2.134

  Letter MXXXVII.
• † 2.135

  Letter MXL.
• * 2.136

  Letter MXLI.
• * 2.137

  Letter MXLVIII.
• † 2.138

  Letter MLX.
• * 2.139

  Letter MLXI.
• † 2.140

  Letters MLXII, MLXIV.
• ‡ 2.141

  Letter MLXVIII.
• § 2.142

  At length I have got into Maryland, and into a family, out of which I trust, five have been born of God.

  Letter MLXX.
• * 2.143

  Letters MLXXI, MLXXIV.
• † 2.144

  Letter MLXXVII.
• ‡ 2.145

  Letters MLXXXI, MLXXXII. In the M. S. he puts down the names of Jones, Romaine, Madan: of whom it appears he intended to have written more particularly.
• * 2.146

  Letter MXCV.
• † 2.147

  At York, I hope, a fine Gentleman was touched; and several I find were awakened there, and at Newcastle, at my last visit.

  Letter MCII.
• ‡ 2.148

  This refers to the encroachments made by the French, upon the British colonies in America; and their threatening Great Britain with an invasion; which occasioned a declaration of war against France, next year.
• § 2.149

  Letters MCIV, MCV.
• ‡ 2.150

  One Physician prescribed a perpetual blister; but I have found perpetual preaching to be a bet|ter remedy. When this grand catholican fails, it is over with me.

  Letter MCXIV.
• * 2.151

  Letters MCXII, MCXVII, MCXIX, MCXX, MCXXII, MCXXIV.
• † 2.152

  Letter MCXVI.
• ‡ 2.153

  Letter MCXVIII. This year, 1756, he publish|ed,

  A short Address to persons of all denomina|tions, occasioned by the alarm of an intended In|vasion.

  Inserted in vol. IV. of his Works.
• * 2.154

  Letter MCXXIX.
• † 2.155

  Letters MCXXVII, MCXXIX.
• * 2.156

  Letter MCXXXIX.
• † 2.157

  Letter MCXLV.
• ‡ 2.158

  Edinburgh, September 9, 1756. For near these three weeks, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield hath been preaching in the Orphan-Hospital-Park to very crouded auditories, twice every day. As he was frequently very explicit in opening the miseries of popish tyranny, and arbitrary power; and very warm in exhorting his hearers to loyalty and courage at home, and in stirring them up to pray for the success of his Majesty's forces, both by sea and land abroad; we have reason to believe, that his visit at this juncture hath been particularly useful.

  Glasgow Courant.

  Edinburgh, September 23. On Tuesday even|ing, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, after sermon, made a collection for the poor Highlanders, when up|wards of sixty pounds sterling was collected.

  Ibid.
• * 2.159

  Letter MCXLVIII.
• † 2.160

  Letter MCXLIX. and M. S.
• * 2.161

  I could enlarge, but it is near six in the morn|ing, and I must away to preach.

  Letter MCLVI.
• † 2.162

  Letter MCLIII.
• ‡ 2.163

  Letter MCLVII.
• § 2.164

  Letters MCLVI, LVII.

  A neighbouring Doctor calls the place Whitefield's Soul-trap. I pray the friend of sinners, to make it a Soul-trap indeed, to many wandering creatures.

  Letter MCLVII.

  —S—, the player, makes always one of the auditory, and, as I hear, is much impressed, and brings others with him.

  Letter MCLXIII.
• * 2.165

  Letter MCLXVII.
• * 2.166

  Letters MCLXVIII, LXIX.
• † 2.167

  Letter MCLXX.
• † 2.168

  Letter MCLXX.
• * 2.169

  Letter MCLXXIV.
• † 2.170

  Letter MCLXXXVII.
• ‡ 2.171

  Letters MCLXXXVII, MCLXXXIX.
• * 2.172

  Letters MCCIII, MCCVI.
• † 2.173

  Letter MCCIX.
• * 2.174

  Glasgow Courant.
• † 2.175

  Letters MCCXIX, MCCXX.
• * 2.176

  I am growing fat; but as I take it to be a disease, I hope I shall go home the sooner.

  Let|ter MCCXXV.
• * 2.177

  Edinburgh, August 15, 1759. On Tuesday morning the Rev. Mr. Whitefield set out on his return for England. It is said, that here and at Glasgow, within these six weeks he has preached near a hundred times, and yet the congregations were always increasing. Whatever this be owing to, every body must judge for themselves: but it is certain he continually exerted all his rhetoric in stirring up a zeal for his God, his King, and his Country in this time of danger; and seemed particularly pleased, as were thousands more, that he had an opportunity last Lord's Day evening, of preaching a thanksgiving sermon to a most throng|ed auditory, on account of the glorious victory lately vouchsafed to Prince Ferdinand over the French.

  The sum collected for the benefit of the Orphan Hospital, during his stay here, amounted to two hundred and fifteen pounds.
• † 2.178

  Letters MCCXXVI, XXVIII.
• ‡ 2.179

  October 1759, he wrote a preface to Mr. Samu|el Clark's Bible. See his Works vol. IV.
• § 2.180

  For this disinterested act of benevolence, it is said, he received the thanks of his Prussian Majesty.
• ‖ 2.181

  Letter MCCXXXVII.
• * 2.182

  The compiler is uncertain as to the time when this was first done. Mr. Whitefield first takes notice of it in his letter dated August 15, 1760. It seems to have taken its rise from the resentment of the play-house people, after they failed in their attempt to freighten him from preaching at Long-acre chapel, and were farther exasperated by seeing him erect a chapel of his own in Tottenham-court-road.
• † 2.183

  See a letter to David Garrick Esq occasioned by the intended representation of the Minor at Drury|lane Theatre, said to be written by the Rev. Mr. Madan.
• * 2.184

  Four hundred pounds were assigned to the Ger|mans, and given into the hands of the Rev. Mr. Zie|genhagen. Letters MCCXLI, XLII, XLVI.

  Boston, Feb. 27, 1764. At a meeting of the freeholders and other inhabitants of the town of Boston on Friday last, it was voted unanimously▪ that the thanks of the town be given to the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, for his charitable care and pains in collecting a considerable sum of money in Great Britain, for the distressed sufferers by the great fire in Boston 1760; and a respectable com|mittee was appointed to wait on Mr. Whitefield, to inform him of the vote, and present him with a copy thereof.

  Boston Gazette.
• * 2.185

  It was happy for him that he frequently got the assistance of clergymen from the country; and at this time particularly of the Rev. Mr. Berridge, late Mo|derator of Cambridge, of whom he writes (Letters MCCXLIII, XLV.)

  A new instrument is raised up out of Cambridge University. He has been here preaching with great flame, and like an angel of the churches indeed.

  —The compiler is informed that the Rev. Mr. Berridge, at Everton, still continues zealous and successful.
• † 2.186

  Letter MCCL.—The M. S. (which after the year 1748, contains only very short and imperfect hints) ends here.
• ‡ 2.187

  Letters MCCLII, LIII, LIV.
• * 2.188

  Letter MCCLV.
• † 2.189

  Letter MCCLIX.
• ‡ 2.190

  Letters MCCLX, LXI.
• § 2.191

  Letter MCCLXV.
• * 2.192

  Letter MCCLXVII.
• † 2.193

  Letter MCCLXXIV.
• ‡ 2.194

  Letters MCCLXXVIII, LXXIX. See his Works, vol. IV.
• * 2.195

  Letter MCCXC.
• † 2.196

  Letter MCCXCIV.
• ‡ 2.197

  Letter MCCXCVIII.
• § 2.198

  Letters MCCCII, III.
• * 2.199

  Boston Gazette.
• † 2.200

  Letter MCCCIV.
• * 2.201

  Letter MCCCV. Some years after, the Gentlemen of Harvard College expressed their gratitude to Mr. Whitefield by the following vote:

  At a meeting of the President and Fellows of Harvard College, Au|gust 22, 1768. The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield having, in addition to his former kindness to Har|vard College, lately presented to the Library, a new edition of his Journals, and having procured large benefactions from several benevolent and re|spectable Gentlemen; VOTED, That the Thanks of the Corporation be given to the Rev. Mr. White|field, for these instances of candour and generosity.

  PRESENT,

  • The President,
  • Mr. Appleton,
  • Mr. Professor Winthrop,
  • Dr. Eliot,
  • Dr. Cooper,
  • Treasurer Hubbard.

  A true Copy, per Edward Holyoke, President.
• † 3.1

  Letter MCCCXI.
• * 3.2

  Letters MCCCXII, MCCCXIII, MCCCXV.
• † 3.3

  Letter MCCCXVIII.
• ‡ 3.4

  A name given to those who favour the revival of religion under the Ministry of Mr. Whitefield, Mr. Tennent, &c.—Letter MCCCXIX.
• ‡ 3.5

  Letter MCCCXXI.
• * 3.6

  See the memorial, address, and answer in vol. III. of his works, page 469, &c.
• † 3.7

  Letter MCCCXXII.
• ‡ 3.8

  Letter MCCCXXIV.
• * 3.9

  Thanks be to God, all outward things are settled on this side the water. The auditing the accounts, and laying a foundation for a college, hath silenced enemies, and comforted friends. The finishing this affair confirms my call to England, at this time.

  Letter MCCCXXIX.
• † 3.10

  All along from Charlestown to this place (Newcastle) the cry is 'For Christ's sake stay and preach to us.' O for a thousand lives to spend for Jesus!

  Letter MCCCXXIX.
• ‡ 3.11

  We had but a twenty-eight day passage.— The transition hath been so sudden, that I can scarce believe that I am in England, I hope, ere long, to have a more sudden transition into a better country.

  Letter MCCCXXXI. [When he arrived at London, July 21, he was very ill of a nervous fever.]
• * 3.12

  Letter MCCCXXXIII.
• † 3.13

  The chapel is extremely plain, and yet equal|ly grand. A most beautiful original. All was con|ducted with great solemnity. Though a very wet day, the place was very full.—I preached in the morning, Mr. Townsend in the evening.

  Letter MCCCXXXVII.
• * 3.14

  Letter MCCCXXXIX.
• † 3.15

  Letter MCCCXL.
• ‡ 3.16

  Letter MCCCXLI.
• § 3.17

  Mr. Occum and Mr. Whitaker came afterwards to Scotland, and preached at Edinburgh and Glasgow, where they got very considerable contributions; par|ticularly from Mr. Sprewll's family in Glasgow, and from the Rev. Mr. M'Culloch at Cambuslang.
• † 3.18

  Letter MCCCLII.
• ‡ 3.19

  Letter MCCCLVII.
• † 3.20

  Letter MCCCLIX.
• ‡ 3.21

  Letters MCCCLXIV, MCCCLXV, MCCCLXVI, MCCCLXIX.
• * 3.22

  See his Works, vol. III. page 472-484, where the steps he took in this affair are more fully narrated in a letter to Governor Wright—and Letter, MCCCLXXVII, in which he complains to his intimate friend Mr. K—n,

  None but God knows what a concern lies upon me now in respect to Bethes|da. As another voyage, perhaps, may be the issue and result of all at last, I would beg you, and my dear Mr. Hervey, to let me have my papers, and letters, that I may revise and dispose of them in a proper manner. This can do no hurt, come life, or come death.
• † 3.23

  Letter MCCCLXXV.
• ‡ 3.24

  See his works, vol. IV.
• § 3.25

  Letters MCCCLXXXVII, LXXXVIII.
• † 3.26

  From his Memorandum Book.

  August 24, 1768, Opened good Lady Huntingdon's Chapel and College, in the parish of Talgarth, Brecknock|shire, South Wales, Preached from Exodus xx.24. 'In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee.' Aug. 25. Gave an exhortation to the students in the Col|lege chapel from Luke i.15. 'He shall be great in the sight of the Lord.' Sunday August 28. Preached in the court before the College, (the congregation consisting of some thousands) from 1 Cor. iii.11. 'Other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
• * 3.27

  Letter MCCCXCVII.
• † 3.28

  Letter MCCCXCVIII.
• ‡ 3.29

  Letter MCCCCIX.
• § 3.30

  Letter MCCCCXIII.
• * 3.31

  Letter MCCCCXXV.
• * 3.32

  One ship was lost, but the passengers escaped in the boat. Letter MCCCCXXX.
• * 3.33

  Memorandum Book, and Letter MCCCCXLI.
• † 3.34

  Letters MCCCCXLV, MCCCCXLVI. Two wings were added to the Orphan-house, for the accommodation of students; of which, Governor Wright, condescend|ed to lay the foundation, March 25, 1769. See vol. III.
• * 4.1

  See a paper of College Rules, at the end of vol. III. which was found written with his own hand, and in which he orders the following authors in divinity to be read: Henry, Doddrige, Guyse, Burkitt, Wil|lison, Professor Frank, Boston, Jenks, Hervey, Hall, Edwards, Trapp, Pool, Warner, Leighton, Pearson, Owen, Bunyan. And the Homilies to be read pub|licly by rotation. He intended to publish a new edi|tion of the Homilies, the preface to which (with prayers on several occasions) is to be seen in vol. IV.
• * 4.2

  Letter MCCCXLVII.
• † 4.3

  Letters MCCCCL, LVII, LIX, LX.
• ‡ 4.4

  Letters MCCCCXLVIII, LII, LIV.
• § 4.5

  Letter MCCCCLIX.
• ‖ 4.6

  Letter MCCCCLX.
• * 4.7

  Letter MCCCCLXI.
• † 4.8

  Letter MCCCCLXII.
• ‡ 4.9

  Letter MCCCCLXIII.
• * 4.10

  Letter MCCCCLXIV.
• † 4.11

  Letter MCCCCLXV.
• * 4.12

  Letter CCXLVIII.
• † 4.13

  Letter XCVI.
• ‡ 4.14

  "I preach till I sweat through and through." Letter XLVI.
• * 4.15

  Which he preached for a great many others, beside his own orphans in Georgia. See his life.
• † 4.16

  Letter CCLXXXIII.
• ‡ 4.17

  See particularly Letter CXVIII.
• * 4.18

  "I love all that love our Lord Jesus Christ." Letter LVIII.

  Oh how do I long to see bigotry and party-zeal taken away, and all the Lord's servants more knit together.

  Letter LXVIII.

  I wish all names among the saints of God, were swallowed up in that none of Christian.

  Letter CXX.

  And to the same purpose in many other places.
• † 4.19

  Preface to the Journals, in the edition of 1756.
• ‡ 4.20

  Journals, May 1739.
• * 4.21

  See Hist. Coll. of the su•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Gospel. vol. II.
• † 4.22

  May God reward you for watching over my soul. It is difficult, I believe, to go through the fiery trial of popularity and applause, untainted.

  Letter LXI.

  When I am unwilling to be told of my faults, correspond with me no more. If I know any thing of my heart, I love those most who are most faith|ful to me in this respect. Henceforward, dear Sir, I beseech you by the mercies of God in Christ Je|sus, spare me not.

  Letter LXXXV.

  We must be helps to each other on this side eternity. Nothing gives me more comfort, next to assurance of the eternal continuance of God's love, than the pleasing reflection of having so many christian friends to watch with my soul. I wish they would smite me friendly, and reprove me oftener than they do.

  Letter CIII.

  I rejoice that you begin to know yourself. If possible, satan will make us think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think. I can tell this by fatal experience. It is not sudden flashes of joy, but having the humility of Christ Jesus, that must denominate us christians. If we hate reproof, we are so far from being true followers of the Lamb of God, that in the opinion of the wisest of men we are bruitish.

  Letter CXII.

  O my dear brother, still continue faithful to my soul; do not hate me in your heart; in any wise reprove me.

  Letter CCIV.

  You need make no apology for your plain deal|ing. I love those best who deal most sincerely with me. Whatever errors I have been, or shall be guilty of in my ministry, I hope the Lord will shew me, and give me grace to amend.

  Letter CCXCVIII. See also Letter DCXL.
• * 4.23

  Early next morning Mr. Sherburn of Portsmouth, sent Squire Clarkson and Dr. Haven, with a message to Mr. Parsons, desiring Mr. Whitefield's remains might be buried in his own new tomb, at his own expence: and in the evening several Gentlemen from Boston came to Mr. Parsons, desiring the body might be carried there. But as Mr. Whitefield had repeat|edly desired he might be buried before Mr. Parsons's pulpit, if he died at Newbury-Port, Mr. Parsons thought himself obliged to deny both of these requests. The following account of his interment, is subjoined to his sermon, viz. "October 2, 1770. At one o'clock all the bells in town were tolled for half an hour, and all the vessels in the harbour gave their proper signals of mourning. At two o'clock the bells tolled a second time. At three the bells called to attend the funeral. The Rev. Dr. Samuel Haven of Portsmouth, the Rev. Messieurs Daniel Rogers of Exeter, Jedediah Jewet, and James Chandler of Rowley, Moses Parsons of Newbury, and Edward Bass of Newbury-Port, were pall-bearers. The procession was from the Rev. Mr. Parsons's of Newbury-Port, where Mr. Whitefield died. Mr. Parsons and his family together with many other respectable persons followed the corpse in mourning. The procession was only one mile, and then the corpse was carried into the Presbyterian church, and placed on the bier in the broad-alley, when the Rev. Mr. Rogers made a very suitable prayer in the presence of about six thousand persons, within the walls of the church, while many thousands were on the outside, not being able to find admittance. Then, the third hymn of the second book of Dr. Watts's Spiritual Songs was sung by the congregation. After this, the corpse was put into a new tomb, before Mr. Parsons's pulpit, which the Gentlemen of the congregation had prepared for that purpose; and be|fore it was sealed, the Rev. Mr. Jewet gave a suit|able exhortation, &c."

  In Reverendum Virum GEORGIUM WHITEFIELD, Laboribus sacris olim abundantem; nunc vero, ut bene speratur coelestem et immortalem vitam cum Christo agentem,

  EPITAPHIUM. (Auctore Thoma Gibbons, S. T. P.)

  Electum et divinum vas, WHITEFIELDE, fuisti Ingenio pollens, divitiisque sacris: His opibus populo ••••nge lateque tributis, Tandem perfrueris laetitia superum Inque hanc intrasti, Domino plaudente ministrum: Expertum in multis, assiduumque bonum: Ecce mei portus, et clara palatia coeli Deliciis plenis omnia aperta tibi. Dum matutinam Stellam, quam dulce rubentem! Vivificos roresque ossa sepulta manent.

  ENGLISHED THUS:

  "A vessel chosen and divine, replete "With Nature's gifts and Grace's richer stores, "Thou Whitefield wast: these thro' the world dispens'd "In long laborious travels, thou at length "Hast reach'd the realms of rest, to which thy Lord "Has welcom'd thee with his immense applause. "All hail, my servant, in thy various trusts "Found vigilant and faithful: See the ports, "See the eternal kingdoms of the skies, "With all their boundless glory, boundless joy "Open'd for thy reception, and thy bliss. "Mean time, the body in its peaceful cell "Reposing from its toils, awaits the Star, "Whose living lustres lead that promis'd morn, "Whose vivifying dews thy moulder'd corse "Shall visit, and immortal life inspire."
• * 4.24

  The following lines are part of a poem on Mr. Whitefield, which is published along with this ser|mon, written by a Negro servant-girl of 17 years of age; and who has been but nine years from Africa, belonging to Mr. J. Wheatly of Boston.

  "He pray'd that grace in every heart might dwell; He long'd to see America excel; He charg'd its youth to let the grace divine Arise, and in their future actions shine. He offer'd That he did himself receive, A greater gift not GOD himself can give. He urg'd the need of Him to every one; It was no less than God's co-equal Son. Take Him ye wretched for your only good; Take Him ye starving souls to be your food. Ye thirsty, come to this life-giving stream; Ye preachers, take Him for your joyful theme. Take Him, my dear Americans, he said, Be your complaints in his kind bosom laid. Take him, ye Africans: he longs for you; Impartial Saviour is his title due. If you will choose to walk in grace's road, You shall be Sons, and Kings, and Priests, to GOD. Great Countess! we Americans revere Thy name, and thus condole thy grief sincere. New-England, sure doth feel; the Orphan's smart Reveals the true sensations of his heart.— His lonely Tabernacle sees no more A Whitefield landing on the British shore. Then let us view him in yon azure skies, Let every mind with this lov'd object rise. Thou tomb, shalt safe retain thy sacred trust, Till life divine re-animates his dust."
• * 4.25

  "Savannah church was decently hung with mourning, by the legislative body of the province."

  The same public marks of regard were shewn at one of the churches in Philadelphia, of which Mr. Sprout is pastor, which by desire of the session and committee, was put into mourning. Also, at their desire and ex|pence the bells of Christ-Church, in that city were rung muffled.
• * 4.26

  As to the difference between essentials and non-essentials in religion, Mr. Edwards refers to the Rev. Mr. Newton's "Review of Ecclesiastical History, so far as it concerns the progress, decl••nsions, and revi|vals of Evangelical doctrine and practice."
• * 4.27

  London Chronicle, November 8, 1770.
• * 4.28

  AN HYMN.

  1.

  "Servant of God, well done! "Thy glorious warfare's past. "The battle's fought, the race is won, "And thou art crown'd at last; "Of all thy heart's desire "Triumphantly possest, "Lodg'd by the ministerial quire "In thy Redeemer's breast.

  2.

  "In condescending love "Thy ceaseless prayer he heard, "And bade this suddenly remove "To thy complete reward: "Ready to bring thee peace, "Thy beauteous feet were shod, "When mercy sign'd thy soul's release "And caught thee up to God.

  3.

  "With saints enthron'd on high "Thou dost thy Lord proclaim, "And still to God salvation cry, "Salvation to the Lamb! "O happy, happy soul, "In extasies of praise, "Long as eternal ages roll, "Thou seest thy Saviour's face,

  4.

  "Redeem'd from earth and pain, "Ah! when shall we ascend, "And all in Jesus' presence reign "With our translated friend! "Come, Lord, and quickly come! "And when in Thee complete, "Receive thy longing servants home, "To triumph at thy feet!"
• * 5.1

  Such as, by the Rev. Mess. Whitaker and Smith of Charlestown; Sprout of Philadelphia; Langford, Elliot, W. M. and probably others, which have not come to the Compiler's knowledge.

  The Rev. Mr. De Courcy also wrote some Elegiac lines, among which are the following:

  "Soon as the Spirit's unction from above, Throughout his soul diffus'd the Saviour's love, A fire enkindled in his eager breast, With pity burn'd to sinners lost— Straight, like a trumpet, he his voice did raise, The wonders of redeeming love to praise; Of health regardless, all things did forego, That sinners Jesus' boundless grace may know; Where'er he preach'd, attentive crowds were seen, Astonish'd at his youth and zealous mein: Let Kennington, Blackheath, Moorfields declare, How oft the Gospel trumpet sounded there. Nor could his zeal the vast Atlantic bound— Throughout the western world he Christ displays, And joyful news to Georgia's coast conveys. There orphans yet unborn, shall weeping tell How mourn'd, the founder of Bethesda fell— The love of Jesus was his darling theme; An heaven he felt in that dear precious name: Hence when his heart with sacred ardor glow'd, His tongue in promptest elocution flow'd. With what compassion, energy and fire, Would he the guilty heart for Christ require! Oft while his Master's glorious grace he show'd, An arrow dipt in Jesus' precious blood, Th' aspiring sinner in the dust brought low, And forc'd him at the bleeding cross to bow— Whene'er he meant the power of sin to kill, And carnal hearts with purest love to fill, Transgressors he to Calvary's summit led, Where Jesus, spotless victim, bowed his head. But, as a glass, the sinner's guilt to show, The Law he brought with all its curse and woe, The conscience wounded with this flaming sword, While Sinai seem'd to thunder in his word. But—whilst each terror of the Lord and threat, With zeal and faithfulness he did repeat, He all dissolv'd in sorrow would appear, While plenteous flow'd the sympathetic tear; Like Jesus, who o'er bloody Salem mourn'd, While wrath divine against it vengeful burn'd— In prayer, with a peculiar gift endow'd, Reverent before the throne of grace he bow'd; In tears, like Jacob, with the Angel strove, Prevail'd like Israel, with the God of love.— For all he pray'd—and all in love receiv'd, With heart capacious, who in Christ believ'd. "In him there dwelt a spirit generous, bold, Unaw'd by threatenings, unallur'd by gold. Preferments, honours, ease, he deem'd but loss, Vile and contemptible for Jesus' cross.— Enur'd to scandal, injuries, and pain, To him to live was Christ; to die was gain."

  In a note upon the last paragraph, the author says, "Whoever is acquainted with Mr. Whitefield's life, well knows that I have not exaggerated matters. For in a visit to Ireland, he was solicited by the Primate of that kingdom, to accept of some considerable church preferment; but declined the offer, because he looked upon himself as called to an itinerant life; and what makes this circumstance the more remarkable, is, that Mr. Whitefield, at that time, had no prospect what|ever, as to temporals."