George Whitefield: A Biography, with special reference to his labors in America

Again was our evangelist tired of London, and again had he grown sick for want of field-preaching. Accordingly he set out for Bristol and other parts of the west of England; and although rain and hail pelted him in his field-pulpits, he preached "about twenty times in eight or nine days." As soon as he found himself in his own element, he saw every thing in his old lights. He says, "Every thing I meet with seems to carry this voice with it: 'Go thou and preach the gospel; be a pilgrim on earth; have no party, or certain dwelling-place.' My heart echoes back, 'Lord Jesus, help me to do or suffer thy will. When thou seest me in danger of nestling, in pity, in tender pity put a thorn in my nest, to prevent me from it.'"

From Bristol, Whitefield went to Taunton, where he met with the Rev. Richard Pearsall, an eminent and excellent Presbyterian minister, of whom he speaks very highly; and from thence, on his way to Plymouth, he stayed at Wellington, to preach for the Rev. Risdon Darracott, who has ever since been distinguished as "the star in the west." Mr. Darracott was the son of a dissenting minister in Dorsetshire, where he was born in 1717, when Whitefield was three years old. He studied for the ministry under the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, at Northampton, and entered on his ministerial course in Cornwall in 1738, which situation he was most reluctantly compelled to leave two years afterwards from violent hemorrhage of the lungs. Under this alarming visitation he spent about six months with his friends in Devonshire, where his fervent-minded father had preached till his death at the age of forty. While here, he had a call to succeed a venerable minister at Wellington, who had recently deceased. He found the congregation small, and the number of communicants but twenty-eight. His ministry soon drew a large congregation, many of whom had never before made a profession of religion, and were first attracted into the town from the neighboring villages out of mere curiosity to hear him. The house of worship was soon insufficient to contain his hearers; and even when it was enlarged, many were frequently compelled to stand out of doors, unable to obtain an entrance. The Rev. Benjamin Fawcett, who preached his funeral sermon, said, "I never knew any congregation which appeared to have so many instances of abiding religious impressions;" and added, "I have good reason to believe that his ministry was owned to the effectual conversion of many hundreds of souls."

The night before the death of this excellent man, which took place in his forty-second year, he exclaimed, "Oh, what a good God have I, in and through Jesus Christ. I would praise him, but my lips cannot. Eternity will be too short to speak his praises." The physician coming in, he said to him, "Oh, what a mercy is it to be interested in the atoning blood of Jesus. I come to the Lord as a vile sinner, trusting in the merits and precious blood of my dear Redeemer. O grace, grace, free grace!" His last words were, "I am going from weeping friends to congratulating angels, and rejoicing saints in glory. He is coming. Oh, speed thy chariot wheels; why are they so long in coming? I long to be gone!" He left in his church more than two hundred communicants.

Whitefield and Darracott were congenial spirits, and Darracott, like his friend, had suffered much reproach in the cause of his Master; he was what Whitefield called him, "a flaming and successful preacher of the gospel." He had just at this time lost three lovely children. "Two of them," says Whitefield, "had died on the Saturday evening before the sacrament; but weeping did not prevent sowing. He preached the next day, and administered as usual. Our Lord strengthened him; and for his three natural, gave him above thirty spiritual children; and he is likely to have many more. He has ventured his little all for Christ; and last week a saint died who left him and his heirs two hundred pounds in land. Did ever any one trust in God, and was forsaken?" This interview with Darracott, and with good old Mr. Pearsall, who had been a preacher of righteousness before Whitefield was born, had an inspiring influence upon him. He says, "I began to take the field again at his dwelling for the spring! I begin to begin to spend and be spent for Him who shed his own dear heart's blood for me. He makes ranging exceedingly pleasant."

Soon after this, Whitefield went again into Yorkshire. At Rotherham he says, "Satan rallied his forces. The crier was employed to give notice of a bear-baiting. You may guess who was the bear! However, I preached twice. The drum was heard, and several watermen attended with great staves. The constable was struck, and two of the mobbers apprehended, but rescued afterwards." Sheffield and Leeds he found to be a new and warmer climate. Lancashire, however, was still but cold to him. All was quiet at Manchester, and he "humbly hoped some had enlisted," but no great impression was then made. At Bolton, a drunkard stood up behind him to preach; and the wife of the man who lent him the field, twice attempted to stab the workman who put up the stand for him. This roused him, and he bore down all opposition by a torrent of eloquence, which quite exhausted him. In the night, however, some rude fellows got into the barn and stables where his chaise and horses had been put, and cut them very shamefully. This conduct he called, "Satan showing his teeth."

To narrate the particulars of this journey would be little more than a repetition of scenes of insult and of success with which the reader has already become familiar. At Ulverston he says, "Satan made some small resistance. A clergyman, who looked more like a butcher than a minister, came with two others, and charged a constable with me; but I never saw a poor creature sent off with such disgrace."

One of the most remarkable conversions recorded in the history of the church occurred during this journey by the ministry of Mr. Whitefield. The full particulars are recorded in the Life of the Countess of Huntingdon, and can only be briefly mentioned here.

In the early period of Whitefield's ministry, many of the taverns became places where his doctrines and zeal were talked of and ridiculed. A Mr. Thorpe, and several other young men in Yorkshire, undertook at one of these parties to mimic the preaching of Mr. Whitefield. The proposition met with applause; one after another stood on a table to perform his part, and it devolved on Mr. Thorpe to close this irreverent scene. Much elated, and confident of success, he exclaimed, as he ascended the table, "I shall beat you all." Who would have supposed that the mercy of God was now about to be extended to this transgressor of his law? The Bible was handed to him; and by the guidance of unerring Providence, it opened at Luke 13:3: "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." The moment he read the text his mind was impressed in a most extraordinary manner; he saw clearly the nature and importance of the subject; and as he afterwards said, if he ever preached with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, it was at that time. His address produced a feeling of depression in his auditors; and when he had finished, he instantly retired to weep over his sins. He soon after became associated with the people of God, and died a successful minister of Christ, at Masborough, in Yorkshire, in 1776, about six years after the death of Mr. Whitefield. He was the father of the distinguished Rev. William Thorpe, of Bristol.

Passing on to Edinburgh, Whitefield was, as usual, received with the most unfeigned tenderness and joy, preaching to great multitudes of attentive and serious people, whose earnest desire to hear him made him exert himself beyond his strength. He says, "By preaching always twice, once thrice, and once four times in a day, I am quite weakened; but I hope to recruit again. Christ's presence makes me smile at pain." He returned to London, having preached about one hundred times, it was believed to not less than one hundred thousand people.

Among the occasional hearers of Whitefield when in Scotland, was the celebrated infidel historian, David Hume. An intimate friend having asked him what he thought of Mr. Whitefield's preaching, he replied, "He is, sir, the most ingenious preacher I ever heard; it is worth while to go twenty miles to hear him." He then repeated the following passage, which occurred towards the close of the discourse he had been hearing. "After a solemn pause, Mr. Whitefield thus addressed his numerous audience: 'The attendant angel is just about to leave the threshold, and ascend to heaven. And shall he ascend, and not bear with him the news of one sinner, among all this multitude, reclaimed from the error of his ways?' To give the greater effect to this exclamation, he stamped with his foot, lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, and with gushing tears cried aloud, 'Stop, Gabriel! stop, Gabriel! stop, ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to God.' He then, in the most simple but energetic language, described what he called a Saviour's dying love to sinful man, so that almost the whole assembly melted into tears. This address was accompanied with such animated, yet natural action, that it surpassed any thing I ever saw or heard in any other preacher."

In the summer of 1751, Whitefield paid a second visit to Ireland, and was most hospitably received in Dublin by a respectable and opulent gentleman named Lunell, who had been brought to Christ by the first Methodist itinerant preacher in that city. During this excursion, Whitefield preached about eighty sermons, fourteen of them in Dublin, and seven in Limerick. His hearers in Dublin organized themselves into a public society, which does not seem to have met his approbation. He says, "This morning I have been talking with dear Mr. Adams, and can not help thinking that you have run before the Lord, in forming yourselves into a public society as you have done. I am sincere when I profess that I do not choose to set myself at the head of any party. When I came to Ireland, my intention was to preach the gospel to all; and if it should ever please the Lord of all lords to send me thither again, I purpose to pursue the same plan. For I am a debtor to all of every denomination, and have no design, if I know any thing of this desperately wicked and deceitful heart, but to promote the common salvation of mankind. The love of Christ constrains me to this."

During this visit, Whitefield a few times ventured out of the city to Oxmantown-green, then a large open place, situated near the royal barracks, where the Ormond and Liberty boys, two factions among the lowest class of the people, generally assembled on the Sabbath to fight with each other. The congregations at first were very numerous, and deeply affected, nor did any disturbance occur. Thus encouraged, the preacher ventured again, and gave notice of his intention to resume his labors. He went through the barracks, the door of which opened into the green, and pitched his tent near the barrack walls, not doubting of the protection, or at least of the interposition of the officers and soldiers, if there should be occasion for it. The multitude in attendance was indeed vast. After singing and prayer, Whitefield preached without molestation, except that now and then a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at him. It being war-time, he took occasion to exhort his hearers, as was his usual practice, not only to fear God, but to honor the king; and prayed for the success of the king of Prussia. When the service was over, he thought to return home by the way he came, but, to his great surprise, a passage through the barracks was denied; and he was compelled to pass from one end of the green to the other, through thousands of Roman-catholics. He was unattended; for a soldier and four preachers who came with him had fled from the scene of danger, and he was seriously attacked by the mob. They threw vollies of stones upon him from all quarters, and he reeled backwards and forwards till he was almost breathless and covered with blood. At length, with great difficulty he staggered to the door of a minister's house near 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 a cordial, and washed his wounds, a coach was procured, in which, amidst the oaths, imprecations, and threatenings of the rabble, he got safe home, and united in a hymn of thanksgiving with his friends. In a letter written to a friend soon after this event, he says, "I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large, and near my temple: I thought of Stephen, and was in hopes, like him, to go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence of my Master."

Unpromising, however, as things were in Ireland, the labors of Whitefield, followed as they were by those of the Wesleys, became the foundation of a number of Christian societies that proved vast blessings to Ireland; and some of them grew into large churches, which continue to flourish till this day.

The society to which reference has been made, which assembled in Skinner's alley, secured ministerial aid from the late Rev. John Edwards, who was one of Whitefield's converts, and among the earliest preachers at the Tabernacle in London; and who also itinerated over nearly the whole of England, Scotland, and Ireland. The period was one of great persecution, and this good man had several remarkable preservations from death. At one time, while he resided in Dublin, he was returning from preaching at a village, when he was seized by a party of rude fellows, who declared they would throw him over the bridge into the Liffey. This was observed by an opposite political party, residing on the other side of the river, who encountered his assailants, and rescued him out of their hands, saying he lived on their side the river, and none should hurt him. At another time, having preached out of doors, a furious mob of the White-boys, a political party so called, beset the house in which he was, and threatened to burn it to the ground, unless he was driven out of it. His anxious friends could see but one way for his escape, which was through a window that opened into a garden belonging to a justice of the peace, who was himself a violent persecutor of the Methodists. Through this window Mr. Edwards was, like the apostle Paul, let down in a basket. Here he stood some time in great consternation, fearing the family might observe him, and charge him with breaking into the garden for improper purposes, and so both religion and himself would be injured. At length he ventured to knock at the door, and asked for the magistrate, to whom he ingenuously stated the facts, and who most generously protected and extended to him the hospitalities of his house for two days.

One fact more must be told of this excellent man. He resolved to visit a town to which had removed a number of soldiers who had received benefit from his ministry. He was met, however, by some of these pious men, who told him that the inhabitants were determined to take his life. Edwards was not to be dissuaded from his purpose; and on his arrival he immediately preached in the street, and several distinguished persons, including the mayor of the town, came to hear him, and by their influence prevented disturbance. After the service, the mayor invited him to breakfast with several of the principal inhabitants, and told him they were very glad he was come – that the people were extremely dissolute in their manners, and the clergy, both Protestants and Catholics, exceedingly remiss in their duty, and they hoped the Methodists would succeed in reforming the town. These gentlemen subscribed to the support of stated preaching, and extensive and lasting good was done.

Amid Whitefield's innumerable engagements and declining health, Bethesda and his beloved America could not be forgotten. While he was at Glasgow during this summer of 1751, he was greatly delighted to hear that Mr. Dinwiddie, brother-in-law to the Rev. Mr. M'Culloch, of Cambuslang, was appointed governor of Virginia. The gospel had been much opposed there, and he thought the appointment now made would greatly tend to check persecution.

Whitefield, as it appears to us, now very suddenly determined on another voyage to America. He arrived in London from Edinburgh in the early part of August, with improved health, the country air having healed his hemorrhage. He took a hasty leave of his friends, and set sail for Georgia, in the Antelope, Captain M'Lellan, taking several orphans with him. He arrived at Savannah Oct. 27, and had the happiness of finding the orphan-house in a prosperous condition. Here, however, he did not stay long; as in November we hear of him in his usual labors, and with his usual ardor engaged in his constant work of preaching. Having formerly suffered much from the climate of America in the summer, he determined again to embark for London, which he did in April. We can scarcely trace his object in this journey to and from America, except in some designs of the government to place Georgia on a new footing.

In June, 1752, Mr. Whitefield was found in the society of the Countess of Huntingdon at Bath, where he continued about three weeks, preaching every evening to great numbers of the nobility. Here he became acquainted with Mrs. Grinfield, a lady who attended on the person of Queen Caroline. "One of Cæsar's household," he writes, "hath been lately awakened, through her ladyship's instrumentality, and I hope others will meet with the like blessing." He afterwards visited her at the palace of St. James, and says, "The court, I believe, rings of her, and if she stands, I trust she will make a glorious martyr for her blessed Lord."

The Moravians, or United Brethren, were at one period on terms of very cordial friendship with the Messrs. Wesley and Whitefield. At the time of which we are writing, a series of strange absurdities, resembling the adoration of saints and other superstitions of popery, developed themselves among members of that body, at the head of which then stood Count Zinzendorf, to whom Whitefield wrote an urgent remonstrance on the subject. An open separation took place, and Mrs. Grinfield, the Rev. John Cennick, and some others, adhered to the count, while Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon endeavored to bring him back to what they believed the simplicity of the gospel. Lady Huntingdon, speaking of her final interview with him, says, "Our conference was long, and as the count honored me with his company for a few days, was resumed at intervals, always closing with a solemn scriptural prayer to our great and glorious Head, for the illuminating influences of his Spirit to guide us into all truth. We parted with the utmost cordiality."

"Dear Mr. Whitefield's letter," says Lady Huntingdon, "has much grieved the count. But his remonstrance is faithful, and the awful exposures he has reluctantly been forced to make, may be productive of the highest good in opening the eyes of many to the miserable delusions under which they lie."

A correspondence, indeed we may say friendship, had for years existed between Whitefield and the eminent philosopher Dr. Benjamin Franklin. The following, from a letter of Whitefield, August 17, 1752, shows his fidelity to the eminent citizen and statesman: "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 into the kingdom of heaven. You will excuse this freedom. I must have aliquid Christi– something of Christ, in all my letters." This honest letter ought to have delighted the philosopher in his closet, even more than the eulogium he heard while standing behind the bar of the House of Lords, when Earl Chatham said of him, "Franklin is one whom Europe holds in high estimation for his knowledge and wisdom; one who is an honor, not to the English nation only, but to human nature."

In the course of the summer of 1752, and the following one, Whitefield visited Scotland twice, and preached much also throughout England and Wales. As usual, he greatly rejoiced in the presence and service of God, and never appears to have been more happy than in this period of his life. "Since I left Newcastle," he writes, "I have scarcely known sometimes whether I have been in heaven or on earth. Thousands and thousands flock twice or thrice a day to hear the word of life. God favors us with weather, and I would fain make hay while the sun shines. Oh that I had as many tongues as there are hairs in my head. The ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus should have them all. Fain would I die preaching."

About this period also, Mr. Hervey and he were employed in revising each other's manuscripts; the former was then preparing his "Theron and Aspasio," a work which, though florid in its style, has been eminently useful in conducting many of its readers to a saving knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel. Of his friend's writings Mr. Whitefield 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 foretell their fate; nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without showing some resentment against its artful murderer… 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 treated 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 comfort me but this, that the Lord chooses the weak things of this world to confound the strong, and things that are not, to bring to naught things that are. I write for the poor; you for the polite and noble. God will assuredly own and bless what you write."

Whitefield was now also very busy in erecting his second London Tabernacle, which he dedicated, June 10, 1753. We have, for the sake of completing the narrative of its first building, already given in our third chapter a statement of the second tabernacle, to which the reader is referred.

Both the judgment and inclination of Mr. Whitefield concurred to induce him to persevere in his itinerant course, correctly judging that in this way he best employed his peculiar talents. After preaching, therefore, with his usual fervor and success for a short time in his newly erected Tabernacle, he again set out towards Scotland, where he spent some days at Edinburgh and Glasgow, and preached generally twice, sometimes three times a day, and once five times. He says, "Attention sat upon all faces, and friends came round like bees, importuning me to stay another week." This he found too much for his strength, but still went forward, often expressing his desire to serve his divine Master to the utmost limit of his power, and his hopes to be with him soon in heaven. During this journey, including his return to London, where he arrived the latter end of September, he travelled about twelve hundred miles, and preached one hundred and eighty times, to many thousands of hearers.

As converts increased in Bristol and its neighborhood, Mr. Whitefield felt compelled to erect there also a "tabernacle." Lady Huntingdon was one of the earliest contributors to this important object, and through her influence Lord Chesterfield gave twenty pounds to it. He had no taste for religion, but he well understood oratory, and in his letter to Lady Huntingdon covering his remittance, he said, "Mr. Whitefield's eloquence is unrivalled, his zeal inexhaustible." The Earl of Bath sent fifty pounds, saying, "Mocked and reviled as Mr. Whitefield is by all ranks of society, still, I contend that the day will come when England will be just, and own his greatness as a reformer, and his goodness as a minister of the most high God."

The Tabernacle at Bristol was dedicated November 25, 1753, with a sermon from Whitefield. Its history is one of deep interest. Its early ministers were worthy of any age, but remarkably fitted for that in which their lot was cast; men of pith and power, undismayed at dangers, braving all kinds of difficulty and toil, and prepared equally for labor and sufferings in the cause of their great Master. Nor have later ministers dishonored their predecessors; the cause still flourishes, and the hallowed house has been the birthplace of many eminent Christians. What Whitefield then said of this house might often be said of it now: "It is large, but not half large enough; for if the place could contain them, nearly as many would attend as in London." He always delighted in his visits to this place, and laid here a foundation for vast benefits, even to the present day. On one of his visits to preach here, he began a series of sermons on the evening before the commencement of the fair. His text was, "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat; yea, come buy wine and milk without money, and without price." Isa. 55:1. The congregation was large, and thus he began: "My dear hearers, I fear that many of you are come to attend Bristol fair. So am I. You do not mean to show your goods until to-morrow; but I shall exhibit mine to-night. You are afraid purchasers will not come up to your price; but I am afraid my buyers will not come down to mine; for mine," striking his hand on the Bible, "are 'without money, and without price.'"

After the dedication of this Bristol Tabernacle, Whitefield preached in the open air in various parts of Somersetshire, at seven o'clock at night. "My hands and body," says he, "were pierced with cold; but what are outward things, when the soul is warmed with the love of God? The stars shone with exceeding brightness; 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.'"

At this time he had a fine opportunity to show his Christian attachment to his old friends. Mr. John Wesley had, by a series of extraordinary labors, brought his life into great danger, and Whitefield, hearing of this while at Bristol, wrote a sympathizing letter to his brother Charles, in which he prays for the descending garment of Elijah to rest on the surviving Elisha, and encloses an ardent and solemn farewell to the invalid, who was supposed to be dying. He says, "The news and prospect of your approaching dissolution have quite weighed me down. I pity myself and the church, but not you. A radiant throne awaits you, and ere long you will enter into your Master's joy. Yonder he stands with a massy crown, ready to put it on your head, amidst an admiring throng of saints and angels. But I, poor I, that have been waiting for my dissolution these nineteen years, must be left behind to grovel here below. Well, this is my comfort, it cannot be long ere the chariots will be sent even for worthless me. If prayers can detain you, even you, reverend and very dear sir, shall not leave us yet. But if the decree is gone forth that you must now sleep in Jesus, may he kiss your soul away, and give you to die in the embraces of triumphant love. If in the land of the living, I hope to pay my best respects to you next week. If not, reverend and dear sir, farewell." He had soon the satisfaction of witnessing the recovery of his friend, who was to survive him more than twenty years.

We have already intimated that Whitefield used his influence in Scotland in favor of the New Jersey college, located at Princeton. In accordance with his advice, the friends of the college in this country sent over the Rev. Samuel Davies, afterwards president of the college, and the Rev. Gilbert Tennent, to promote its interests in the British islands. A few extracts from the manuscript diary of Davies, with the use of which we have been favored for this volume, will show the readiness of Whitefield to labor, or to "be nothing," so that the cause of Christ might be advanced. The deputation arrived in England in the closing month of 1753, and thus writes Davies:

"Wednesday, December 26. Mr. Whitefield having sent us an invitation last night to make his house our home during our stay here, we were perplexed what to do, lest we should blast the success of our mission among the dissenters, who are generally disaffected to him. We at length concluded, with the advice of our friends and his, that a public intercourse with him would be imprudent, in our present situation, and visited him privately this evening; and the kind reception he gave us revived dear Mr. Tennent. He spoke in the most encouraging manner as to the success of our mission. And in all his conversation discovered so much zeal and candor, that I could not but admire the man as the wonder of the age. When we returned, Mr. Tennent's heart was all on fire, and after we had gone to bed, he suggested that we should watch and pray; and we rose and prayed together till about three o'clock in the morning.

"Jan. 1. Went in the evening to hear Mr. Whitefield in the Tabernacle, a large, spacious building. The assembly was very numerous, though not equal to what is common. He preached on the parable of the barren fig-tree; and though the discourse was incoherent, yet it seemed to me better calculated to do good to mankind than all the accurate, languid discourses I ever heard. After sermon I enjoyed his pleasing conversation at his house."

It would seem that Messrs. Davies and Tennent had their trials, as well as their encouragements. Writing Jan. 14, Mr. Davies says, "Spent an hour with Mr. Whitefield. He thinks we have not taken the best method in endeavoring to keep in with all parties, but should 'come out boldly,' as he expressed it, which would secure the affections of the pious people, from whom we might expect the most generous contributions." On the evening after this, they dined with Whitefield at the house of a common friend, and he rejoiced in the abundant success they afterwards met with from nearly all parties.

"Jan. 25. Dined with Mr. Bradbury, who has been in the ministry about fifty-seven years. He read us some letters which passed between Mr. Whitefield and him, anno 1741; occasioned by Mr. Whitefield's reproving him in a letter for singing a song in a tavern, in a large company, in praise of old English beef. The old gentleman sung it to us, and we found it was partly composed by himself, in the high-flying days of Queen Anne. He is a man of a singular turn, which would be offensive to the greatest number of serious people; but for my part I could say,

'I knew 'twas his peculiar whim,
Nor took it ill, as't came from him.'"

In March, 1754, Whitefield, in company with twenty-two poor destitute children, sailed the fifth time for America.

CHAPTER XIII.

FIFTH VISIT TO AMERICA – RENEWED LABORS IN GREAT BRITAIN – TOTTENHAM-COURT-ROAD CHAPEL.

1754-1763

On this voyage to America, Whitefield sailed for South Carolina by way of Lisbon. His health demanded repose; he thought that seeing Popery as it is when unrestrained by public opinion, might be of use to him in his future labors; and moreover, he had with him a number of orphans whom he wished comfortably to settle at Bethesda before he visited the northern provinces. It would be pleasant, if our limits would allow it, to furnish the letters he wrote from Lisbon during nearly four weeks, but a few sentences must suffice: "This leaves me an inhabitant of Lisbon. We have now been here almost a week, and I suppose shall stay a fortnight longer. A reputable merchant has received me into his house, and every day shows me the ecclesiastical curiosities of the country. O, my dear friend, bless the Lord of all lords, for causing your lot to be cast in such a fair ground as England, and giving you such a goodly heritage. It is impossible to be sufficiently thankful for civil and religious liberty, for simplicity of worship, and powerful preaching of the word of God. O for simplicity of manners, and a correspondent behavior. The air agrees with my poor constitution extremely well. Through divine assistance; I hope what I see will also improve my better part, and help to qualify me better for preaching the everlasting gospel."

In another letter he writes, "Never did civil and religious liberty appear to me in so amiable a light as now. What a spirit must Martin Luther and the first reformers be endued with, that dared to appear as they did for God. Lord, hasten that blessed time when others, excited by the same spirit, shall perform like wonders. Oh, happy England! Oh, happy Methodists, who are Methodists indeed! And all I account such, who, being dead to sects and parties, aim at nothing else but as holy a method of living to, and dying in the blessed Jesus."

He was heartily glad to get away from Popish processions and superstitious rites, and again to visit his "dear America."

Our evangelist arrived with his orphans at Beaufort, in South Carolina, May 27, 1754, greatly improved in health, with a heart burning with love and zeal for his Lord and Master. He says, with his usual energy, "Oh 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." His family now consisted, "black and white," of one hundred and six members, all dependent on his personal efforts and influence. He regarded his charge as a stewardship for God, and collected accordingly, nothing doubting. It was now summer, and besides the oppressive heat, "great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains" frequently beat upon him as he journeyed from place to place. His health improved, and his spirits rose as he advanced on his journey. At Charleston, and elsewhere, his labors were received with the same degree of acceptance as formerly, and he was much encouraged by the conversion of a clergyman, a faithful successor to Mr. Smith of the city just named, and the first student sent forth from Bethesda.

He arrived at New York, by water, July 27, and divided his labors between that city and Philadelphia almost entirely for nearly two months. In the latter city, he tells us, he was seized with violent cholera morbus, and brought to the gates of death. To use his own words, he "had all his cables out, ready to cast anchor within the port of eternity;" but he was soon "at sea again," although only able to preach once a day for some time. "Everywhere," he says, "a divine power accompanied the word, prejudices were removed, and a more effectual door opened than ever for preaching the gospel." When he looked at "the glorious range for hunting in the American woods," he was at a loss on which hand to turn… "Affection, intense affection cries aloud, Away to New England, dear New England, immediately. Providence, and the circumstances of the southern provinces, point directly to Virginia."

While thus undecided, he visited his old friend Governor Belcher, then governor of New Jersey, and residing at Elizabeth town. He found the good old man ripening for heaven, willing to depart and to be with Christ. At this time the commencement of New Jersey college was held, and as a mark of their respect, the president and trustees conferred on him the honorary degree of master of arts. The meeting of the synod immediately followed, respecting which body he says, "I was much refreshed with the company of the whole synod; such a number of simple-hearted, united ministers I never saw before. I preached to them several times, and the great Master of assemblies was in the midst of us."

Influenced by what he saw and heard in New Jersey, Whitefield determined to go to New England, and to return from thence by Virginia to Georgia, and made his arrangements accordingly; it would comprise a circuit of more than two thousand miles, but he said, "The Redeemer's strength will be more than sufficient."

It has been thought that it was during this visit of Whitefield to New Jersey, and probably at the table of Governor Belcher, that he dined in company with a number of ministers, and held the often-reported conversation with "Father Tennent." After dinner, Mr. Whitefield adverted to the difficulties attending the Christian ministry; lamented that all their zeal availed but little; said that he was weary with the burden of the day; and declared his great comfort in the thought, that in a short time his work would be done, when he should depart and be with Christ. He then appealed to the ministers, if it was not their great comfort that they should soon go to rest. They generally assented, except Mr. Tennent, who sat next to Mr. Whitefield in silence, and by his countenance indicated but little pleasure in the conversation.

Seeing this, Mr. Whitefield, gently tapping him on the knee, said, "Well, brother Tennent, you are the oldest man among us; do you not rejoice to think that your time is so near at hand, when you will be called home?" Mr. Tennent bluntly answered, "I have no wish about it." Mr. Whitefield pressed him again. Mr. Tennent again answered, "No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at all; and if you knew your duty, it would be none to you. I have nothing to do with death; my business is to live as long as I can, as well as I can, until He shall think proper to call me home." Mr. Whitefield still urged for an explicit answer to his question, in case the time of death were left to his own choice. Mr. Tennent replied, "I have no choice about it; I am God's servant, and have engaged to do his business as long as he pleases to continue me therein. But now, brother, let me ask you a question. What do you think I should say, if I was to send my servant into the field to plough; and if at noon I should go to the field, and find him lounging under a tree, and complaining, 'Master, the sun is very hot, and the ploughing hard; I am weary of the work you have appointed me, and am overdone with the heat and burden of the day. Do, master, let me return home, and be discharged from this hard service?' What should I say? Why, that he was a lazy fellow, and that it was his business to do the work that I had appointed him, until I should think fit to call him home."

Accompanied by President Burr, Whitefield set out, October 1, for Boston, and arrived there on the 9th. Here he stayed a week, and saw there, morning after morning, three or four thousand people hanging in breathless silence on his lips, and weeping silent tears. Whitefield himself calls it "a lovely scene," and says he "never saw a more effectual door opened for the gospel. Sinners have been awakened, saints quickened, and enemies made at peace with me. Grace, grace! Surely my coming here was of God. Convictions do fasten, and many souls are comforted." Such were the crowds at the early sermons, that in order to reach the pulpit, he had to get in at the windows of the churches. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, he wrote, "In Boston, the tide ran full as high as ever your ladyship knew it at Edinburgh, or in any part of Scotland."

While at Boston, Whitefield heard with much pleasure of the appointment of his friend Habersham as secretary to the new governor of Georgia, and wrote to him, "I wish you joy of your new honor. May the King of kings enable you to discharge your trust as becomes a good patriot, subject, and Christian. You have now a call, I think, to retire from business, and to give up your time to the public." Our evangelist travelled north as far as Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, generally preaching two or three times a day, till November 7, when he took his farewell at Boston, at four o'clock in the morning. Speaking of this journey, he says, "What have I seen? Dagon falling everywhere before the ark; enemies silenced, or made to own the finger of God; and the friends of Jesus triumphing in his glorious conquests. A hundredth part cannot be told. We had scarcely one dry meeting." When he arrived in the neighborhood of Portsmouth, the northern boundary of his journey, he was overwhelmed with humility as well as joy, by the large cavalcade which came out to meet and welcome him. He says of them, "They were too many;" and of this northern journey, "It seems to me the most important one I was ever engaged in."