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

Among many who became the subjects of divine grace during this visit of Whitefield to New England, was Daniel Emerson, who was educated at Harvard college, where he received his first degree in 1739, and where he continued to reside for some time as a graduate. While at college, he is said to have been very fond of the gay pleasures of this life, until his attention was effectually called to religion by the preaching of Whitefield, whom he followed from place to place for several days. He was ordained at Hollis, New Hampshire, in 1743, where, in a ministry of fifty years, he was a worthy follower of his spiritual father. The chief excellences of his preaching were sound doctrine, deep feeling, and zeal at times almost overwhelming. He was truly a son of thunder, and a flaming light. He was almost incessantly engaged in labors, preaching, attending funerals, etc., far and near. His efforts were greatly blessed, especially among his own people, who under his ministry enjoyed extensive revivals of religion, and where also a large number of ministers have been called to their work. He died in 1801, aged eighty-five.

It may be appropriate to introduce here a sketch of Whitefield's doctrines and labors at this time, as given us by the eminent Dr. Thomas Prince, in his "Christian History," under date of January 26, 1744-5, but having reference to Whitefield's first visit to New England, which we have just described:

"He spoke with a mighty sense of God, eternity, the immortality and preciousness of the souls of his hearers, of their original corruption, and of the extreme danger the unregenerate are in; with the nature and absolute necessity of regeneration by the Holy Ghost; and of believing in Christ, in order to our pardon, justification, yielding an acceptable obedience, and obtaining salvation from hell and an entrance into heaven. His doctrine was plainly that of the reformers; declaring against our putting our good works or morality in the room of Christ's righteousness, or their having any hand in our justification, or being indeed pleasing to God while we are totally unsanctified, acting upon corrupt principles, and unreconciled enemies to him; which occasioned some to mistake him, as if he opposed morality. But he insisted on it, that the tree of the heart is by original sin exceedingly corrupted, and must be made good by regeneration, that so the fruits proceeding from it may be good likewise; that where the heart is renewed, it ought and will be careful to maintain good works, that if any be not habitually so careful who think themselves renewed, they deceive their own souls; and even the most improved in holiness, as well as others, must entirely depend on the righteousness of Christ for the acceptance of their persons and services. And though now and then he dropped some expressions that were not so accurate and guarded as we should expect from aged and long-studied ministers, yet I had the satisfaction to observe his readiness with great modesty and thankfulness to receive correction as soon as offered.

"In short, he was a most importunate wooer of souls to come to Christ for the enjoyment of him, and all his benefits. He distinctly applied his exhortations to the elderly people, the middle-aged, the young, the Indians, and negroes, and had a most winning way of addressing them. He affectionately prayed for our magistrates, ministers, colleges, candidates for the ministry, and churches, as well as people in general; and before he left us, in a public and moving manner, he observed to the people how sorry he was to hear that the religious assemblies, especially on lectures, had been so thin, exhorted them earnestly to a more general attendance on our public ministrations for the time to come, and told them how glad he should be to hear of the same.

"Multitudes were greatly affected, and many awakened with his lively ministry. Though he preached every day, the houses were crowded; but when he preached on the Common, a vaster number attended; and almost every evening the house where he lodged was thronged to hear his prayers and counsels.

"On Mr. Whitefield's leaving us, great numbers in this town [Boston] were so happily concerned about their souls, as we had never seen any thing like it before, except at the time of the general earthquake;[1 - Dr. Prince, in a note, here says, "Though people were then," in the time of the earthquake, "generally frightened, and many awakened to such a sense of their duty as to offer themselves to our communion, yet very few came to me then under deep convictions of their unconverted and lost condition, in comparison of what came now. Nor did those who came to me then, come so much with the inquiry, 'What shall we do to be saved?' as to signify they had such a sense of their duty to come to the Lord's table that they dare not stay away any longer."] and their desires excited to hear their ministers more than ever. So that our assemblies, both on lectures and Sabbaths, were surprisingly increased, and now the people wanted to hear us oftener. In consequence of which a public lecture was proposed to be set up at Dr. Colman's church, near the midst of the town, on every Tuesday evening."

In reference to the work of grace which was connected with Whitefield's preaching in New England, the Rev. Dr. Baron Stow, in his "Centennial Discourse," says, "The result, by the blessing of God, was a powerful revival, such as New England had never witnessed. The work was opposed with great vehemence; and no impartial reader of the history of those extraordinary scenes can question that much of the hostility was provoked by improprieties of both speech and action, that would at any time be offensive to those who love good order and Christian decorum. But after making liberal allowance for all that was truly exceptionable, it is cheerfully admitted by the candid Christian, that the excitement was, in the main, the product of the Holy Spirit, and that its fruits were eminently favorable to the advancement of true religion. A torpid community was aroused, as by the trump of God, from its long and heavy slumber; ministers and people were converted; the style of preaching, and the tone of individual piety were improved; a cold, cadaverous formalism gave place to the living energy of experimental godliness; the doctrines of the gospel were brought out from their concealment, and made to reassert their claims to a cordial, practical credence, and all the interests of truth and holiness received new homage from regenerated thousands."

One or two other facts connected with Whitefield's usefulness in New England are too important to be omitted. During this visit he was much gratified by an interview with a colored man, who had been his chaise-driver when he first visited Cambridge. The negro had heard him preach in the college a sermon especially addressed "to those who labor and are heavy-laden." It took such a hold on the poor man, that he repeated it in the kitchen when he reached home. Mr. Cooper of Boston was so well satisfied, as was Whitefield also, with his account of his conversion, that he was admitted to the Lord's table.

Another "brand plucked from the burning" was a son of Mackintosh, an English rebel, who had been condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and had been allowed by George the First to settle in New England. One of his daughters, a lady of fortune, had heard Whitefield preach in Dr. Prince's church at Boston, and had been won by the word to Christ. She was soon after smitten by sickness, and ripened rapidly for heaven. On her death-bed she cried out for her "soul friend" Mr. Whitefield; but checking her own impatience, she asked, "Why should I do so? He is gone about his Master's work, and in a little time we shall meet to part no more." The distinguished evangelist had a very high opinion of her piety, and his interest in her was increased by the fact that she had a very remarkable escape from some ruffians who had been bribed to convey her and her sister to Scotland, that their uncle might seize on an estate worth a thousand pounds a year.

There were at this time not less than twenty ministers in the neighborhood of Boston who unhesitatingly spoke of Whitefield as their spiritual father, directly tracing their conversion to his ministry. Of one of these we have an account by Collins, the journalist of South Reading. Speaking of 1741, he says, "Mr. Whitefield preached upon our Common in the open air. Mr. Hobby the minister went with the multitude to hear him. It is said that Mr. Hobby afterwards remarked, he came to pick a hole in Mr. Whitefield's coat, but that Whitefield picked a hole in his heart. Mr. Hobby afterwards wrote and published a defence of Mr. Whitefield in a letter to Mr. Henchman, the minister of Lynn, who had written against him."

The letters of Whitefield, during his journeys of eleven hundred miles in New England, were few and brief; but they clearly indicated that at this time he was inclined "to return no more to his native country." New England, notwithstanding his trials there, had evidently won his heart, and for a time almost weaned him from Great Britain. When he left it, as he was now about to do, for the south, he wrote, "God only knows what a cross it was to me to leave dear New England so soon. I hope death will not be so bitter to me as was parting with my friends. Glad shall I be to be prayed thither again before I see my native land. I would just be where He would have me, although in the uttermost parts of the earth. I am now hunting for poor lost sinners in these ungospelized wilds."

Is there not an awfully retributive providence connected with the rejection of the gospel and its ministers? Do we not see this principle at work in the history and present state of the Jews; and has it not often appeared also in the history of Christianity? There was a beautiful village, now a city, in Massachusetts, from which Whitefield was driven with such rancorous abuse, that he shook off the dust of his feet, and proclaimed that the Spirit of God would not visit that spot till the last of those persecutors was dead. The good man's language had a fearful truth in it, though he was not divinely gifted with the prophet's inspiration. A consciousness of desertion paralyzed the energies of the church; for nearly a century it was nurtured on the unwholesome food of unscriptural doctrine. In the very garden of natural loveliness, it sat like a heath in the desert, upon which there could be no rain; and not till that whole generation had passed from the earth, did Zion appear there in her beauty and strength.

CHAPTER VII.

LABORS IN NEW YORK AND THE MIDDLE AND SOUTHERN STATES.

1740, 1741

Whitefield was now again on his way to New York, preaching at Rye and King's Bridge on the road. At the latter place he was met by several friends from the city, with whom he pleasantly talked, "and found," he says, "an inexpressible satisfaction in my soul when I arrived at the house of my very dear friend Mr. Noble. After supper the Lord filled my heart, and gave me to wrestle with him for New York inhabitants and my own dear friends." He was also cheered by meeting Mr. Davenport from Long Island, whose labors as an evangelist were then exciting much interest. Here too he met with a violent pamphlet published against him. "Met also with two volumes of sermons published in London as delivered by me, though I never preached on most of the texts. But Satan must try all ways to bring the work of God into contempt."

On the morning after his arrival, Whitefield preached in Mr. Pemberton's meeting-house, and says concerning the service, "Never saw the word of God fall with such weight in New York before. Two or three cried out. Mr. Noble could scarce refrain himself. And look where I would, many seemed deeply wounded. At night the word was attended with great power. One cried out; and the Lord enabled me at the latter end of my sermon to speak with authority. Alas, how vain are the thoughts of men! As I came along yesterday, I found my heart somewhat dejected, and told Mr. Noble I expected but little moving in New York; but he bid me 'expect great things from God,' and likewise told me of several who were, as he hoped, savingly wrought upon by my ministry when I was there last."

On the following day he finished his answer to the pamphlet already referred to, and says, "God enabled me to write it in the spirit of meekness." He adds, "Preached twice as yesterday to very crowded auditories, and neither time without power. In the evening exercise some fainted, and the Lord seemed to show us more and more that a time for favoring New York was near at hand. Oh, wherefore did I doubt? Lord, increase my faith."

The following day, November 2, was the Sabbath. "Preached this morning with freedom and some power, but was much dejected before the evening sermon. For near half an hour before I left Mr. Noble's house, I could only lie before the Lord, and say I was a poor sinner, and wonder that Christ would be gracious to such a wretch. As I went to meeting I grew weaker and weaker, and when I came into the pulpit I could have chosen to be silent rather than speak. But after I had begun, the Spirit of the Lord gave me freedom, till at length it came down like a mighty rushing wind, and carried all before it. Immediately the whole congregation was alarmed. Shrieking, crying, weeping, and wailing were to be heard in every corner; men's hearts failing them for fear, and many falling into the arms of their friends. My soul was carried out till I could scarcely speak any more. A sense of God's goodness overwhelmed me."

After narrating two or three pleasing incidents as to the effect of his preaching even on the minds of children, and describing his feelings on his return home, he gives an account of the wedding of two young persons who were going as his assistants to Georgia. "Never," he says, "did I see a more solemn wedding. Jesus Christ was called, and he was present in a remarkable manner. After Mr. Pemberton had married them, I prayed. But my soul, how was it enabled to wrestle with and lay hold on God! I was in a very great agony, and the Holy Ghost was so remarkably present, that most, I believe, could say, 'Surely God is in this place.' After this, divine manifestations flowed in so fast, that my frail tabernacle was scarce able to sustain them. My dear friends sat round me on the bedsides. I prayed for each of them alternately with strong cries, and pierced by the eye of faith even within the veil. I continued in this condition for about half an hour, astonished at my own vileness and the excellency of Christ, then rose full of peace and love and joy."

On Monday, the 3d, he preached both morning and afternoon to increasing congregations, and says, "There was a great and gracious melting both times, but no crying out. Nearly £110 currency were collected for the orphans; and in the evening many came and took an affectionate leave. About seven we took boat; reached Staten Island about ten, greatly refreshed in my inner man. A dear Christian friend received us gladly, and we solaced ourselves by singing and praying. About midnight retired to sleep, still longing for that time when I shall sleep no more."

On Tuesday he preached on Staten Island from a wagon, to three or four hundred people. "The Lord came among them," and several inquired after the way of salvation. Here he met Gilbert Tennent and Mr. Cross. The former of these excellent ministers had recently lost his wife, and though he was ardently attached to her, he calmly preached her funeral sermon with the corpse lying before him. Tennent had lately been preaching in New Jersey and Maryland, and had a delightful account to give his friend of the progress of the good work. Nor was the account given by Mr. Cross of less interest. After sermon he rode to Newark, where he preached till dark, as he thought with but little good effect. "However, at night the Lord manifested forth his glory; for, coming down to family prayer where I lodged, and perceiving many young men around me, my soul was, as it were, melted down with concern for them. After singing, I gave a word of exhortation; with what power none can fully express but those that saw it. Oh, how did the word fall like a hammer and like a fire. What a weeping was there!"

We must stay a moment to give a fact or two in reference to the Rev. Aaron Burr, then quite a young man, who two or three years before had been ordained at Newark, and whose ministry had been attended with a delightful revival the year preceding Whitefield's visit. During the period of this revival, the neighboring village of Elizabethtown had been remarkable for its insensibility; even Whitefield had preached there, "and not a single known conversion," says Dr. Stearns, "followed his ministrations." Afterwards the pastor, the well-known Jonathan Dickinson, saw happy results from very plain preaching. Newark caught a new flame from its neighboring altar, and Mr. Burr, who had lately been to New England in quest of health, had heard the devoted evangelist again and again, and invited him to visit his flock, which he did about a month afterwards with happy results. The account given by Mr. Burr of Whitefield's preaching in New England was precisely what we should expect from the man who was afterwards the first president of Princeton college, and who, fourteen years after this, accompanied his eloquent friend to New England, "and saw at Boston, morning after morning, three or four thousand people hanging in breathless silence on the lips of the preacher, and weeping silent tears."

The Rev. Stephen Dodd of East Haven, Conn., relates that an old lady told him that when Mr. Whitefield came to preach in the old meeting-house at Newark, she was twelve years old, and as he entered the pulpit she looked at him with distrust, but before he got through his prayers herself and all the congregation were melted down, and the sermon filled the house with groans and tears. The next time he came, the congregation was so large that the pulpit window was taken out, and he preached through the opening to the people in the burying-ground.

On Wednesday, the 5th, he went to Baskinridge, Mr. Cross' parish, where he found Mr. Davenport, who, according to appointment, had been preaching to about three thousand people. He writes, "As I went along, I told a friend my soul wept for them, and I was persuaded within myself that the Lord would that day make his power to be known among them. In prayer, I perceived my soul drawn out, and a stirring of affections among the people. I had not discoursed long before the Holy Ghost displayed his power. In every part of the congregation somebody or other began to cry out, and almost all melted into tears. This abated for a few moments, till a little boy about seven or eight years of age cried out exceeding piteously indeed, and wept as though his little heart would break. Mr. Cross having compassion on him, took him up into the wagon, which so affected me, that I broke from my discourse, and told the people the little boy should preach to them, and that God, since old professors would not cry after Christ, had displayed his sovereignty, and out of an infant's mouth was perfecting praise. God so blessed this, that a universal concern fell on the congregation again. Fresh persons dropped down here and there, and the cry increased more and more."

In the evening, Gilbert Tennent preached excellently in Mr. Cross' barn, two miles off. His subject was the necessity and benefit of spiritual desertions, a remarkable subject, as has been said, at such a time, in a barn, and at night. "A great commotion," says Whitefield, "was soon observed among the hearers. I then gave a word of exhortation. The Lord's presence attended it in a surprising manner. One, in about six minutes, cried out, 'He is come, He is come!' and could scarcely sustain the discovery that Jesus Christ made of himself to his soul. Others were so earnest for a discovery of the Lord to their souls, that their eager crying obliged me to stop, and I prayed over them as I saw their agonies and distress increase. At length my own soul was so full that I retired, and was in a strong agony for some time, and wept before the Lord under a deep sense of my own vileness, and the sovereignty and greatness of God's everlasting love. Most of the people spent the remainder of the night in prayer and praise. Two or three young ministers spoke alternately, and others prayed as the Lord gave them utterance."

The next morning Whitefield exhorted, sung, and prayed with the people in the barn, and had some delightful conversation with a lad of thirteen, a poor negro woman, and several others. In company with several Christian friends, he then rode to the house of Gilbert Tennent in New Brunswick. Here he found letters from Savannah saying that great mortality existed in the neighborhood, but that the family at the orphan-house continued in health, and that a minister was about coming from England to take his church at Savannah. "This last," says he, "much rejoiced me, being resolved to give up the Savannah living as soon as I arrived in Georgia. A parish and the orphan-house together are too much for me; besides, God seems to show me it is my duty to evangelize, and not to fix in any particular place." Here he was met by William Tennent also, and after much conversation and prayer, it was settled that Gilbert Tennent should go to Boston to carry on the work so happily begun there. After preaching, exhortation, and prayer, Whitefield went with Davenport to Trenton, and so on to Philadelphia. On their way, they were twice remarkably preserved from drowning in creeks much swollen by the rains; and late on a very dark Saturday night arrived in the city, which had been already honored by his usefulness.

On the following day, he twice preached in the house which his friends were now building for him, and in which Gilbert Tennent labored for many years with great success. He says, "It is one hundred feet long and seventy feet broad. A large gallery is to be erected all around in it. Many footsteps of Providence have been visible in beginning and carrying it on. Both in the morning and evening God's glory filled the house, for there was great power in the congregation. The roof is not yet up, but the people raised a convenient pulpit and boarded the bottom. The joy of most of the hearers when they saw me was inexpressible. Between services, I received a packet of letters from England, dated in March last. May the Lord heal, and bring good out of the divisions which at present seem to be among the brethren there. God giving me freedom, and many friends being in the room, I kneeled down and prayed with and exhorted them all. But Oh, how did they melt under both; my soul was much rejoiced to look round on them."

A fact in connection with the building of this church edifice illustrates the practical philosophy of Dr. Franklin. Tennent waited on him for aid in the erection of the house, which was cheerfully afforded; the philosopher was asked by Tennent as to the best method of raising the necessary funds, who instantly recommended him to call at every house in the town to solicit help. He argued thus: "Many are really desirous to give, and will be glad to see you; others are inclined to be friendly, and will give if they are urged; a third will be sure, if they are omitted, to say they would have given had they been asked; and a fourth class will give you, rather than have it said they refused." Tennent acted on the doctor's counsel, and the funds were raised without difficulty.

Two instances of the happy influence of the truth in the conversion of sinners, in connection with this visit, must be given from Whitefield's own pen. The first related to a Mr. Brockden, a lawyer eminent in his profession, and the recorder of deeds for the city. For many years this gentleman had been distinguished for Deism. Whitefield writes, "In his younger days he had some religious impressions, but going into business, the cares of the world so choked the good seed, that he not only forgot his God in some degree, but at length began to doubt of and to dispute his very being. In this state he continued many years, and has been very zealous to propagate his deistical, I could almost say atheistical principles among moral men; but he told me he never endeavored to make proselytes of vicious, debauched people. When I came to Philadelphia, this time twelvemonth, he told me he had not so much as a curiosity to hear me. But a brother Deist, his choicest friend, pressed him to come and hear me. To satisfy his curiosity, he at length complied with the request. I preached at the court-house stairs, upon the conference which the Lord had with Nicodemus. I had not spoken much before the Lord struck his heart. 'For,' said he, 'I saw your doctrine tended to make people good.' His family knew not that he had been to hear me. After he came home, his wife, who had been at sermon, came in also, and wished heartily that he had heard me. He said nothing. After this, another of his family came in, repeating the same wish; and, if I mistake not, after that another; till at last, being unable to refrain any longer, with tears in his eyes, he said, 'Why, I have been hearing him;' and then expressed his approbation. Ever since he has followed on to know the Lord; and I verily believe Jesus Christ has made himself manifest to his soul. Though upwards of threescore years old, he is now, I believe, born again of God. He is as a little child, and often, as he told me, receives such communications from God, when he retires into the woods, that he thinks he could die a martyr for the truth."

The other instance was that of the captain of a ship, "as great a reprobate," says Whitefield, "as ever I heard of." This man used to go on board the transport ships, and offer a guinea for a new oath, that he might have the honor of making it. "To the honor of God's grace," says our evangelist, "let it be said, he is now, I believe, a Christian; not only reformed, but renewed. The effectual stroke, he told me, was given when I preached last spring at Pennepack. Ever since he has been zealous for the truth; stood like a lamb when he was beaten, and in danger of being murdered by some of my opposers, and, in short, shows his faith by his works."

The stay of Mr. Whitefield in Philadelphia at this time was about a week, during which he preached in the new house twice every day to large and deeply interested congregations. He says, "It would be almost endless to recount all the particular instances of God's grace which I have seen this week past. Many that before were only convicted, now plainly proved that they were converted, and had a clear evidence of it within themselves. My chief business was now to build up and to exhort them to continue in the grace of God. Notwithstanding, many were convicted almost every day, and came to me under the greatest distress and anguish of soul. Several societies are now in the town, not only of men and women, but of little boys and little girls. Being so engaged, I could not visit them as I would, but I hope the Lord will raise up some fellow-laborers, and that elders will be ordained in every place."

Perhaps no man was ever more free from sectarianism than George Whitefield. It is true, that he was ordained a clergyman of the church of England, and never manifested any degree of reluctance to officiate within its walls; but it is equally true, that the vast majority of his sermons were delivered in connection with other bodies of Christians. When he was once preaching from the balcony of the court-house, Market-street, Philadelphia, he delivered an impressive apostrophe: "Father Abraham, who have you in heaven? any Episcopalians?" "No." "Any Presbyterians?" "No." "Any Baptists?" "No." "Have you any Methodists, Seceders, or Independents there?" "No, no!" "Why, who have you there?" "We don't know those names here. All who are here are Christians, believers in Christ – men who have overcome by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of his testimony." "Oh, is that the case? then God help me, God help us all, to forget party names, and to become Christians, in deed and in truth." It might be well for the different bodies of Christians to think of the propriety of following this example of the holy man. The peculiarities of each Christian denomination may have their importance, but they ought not to keep good men in a state of separation, much less of alienation from each other.

On Monday, November 17, Whitefield left Philadelphia. He says, "Was much melted at parting from my dear friends. Had it much impressed upon my mind, that I should go to England, and undergo trials for the truth's sake. These words, 'The Jews sought to stone thee, and goest thou thither again?' with our Lord's answer, have been for some time lying upon me; and while my friends were weeping round me, St. Paul's words darted into my soul, 'What mean you to weep and break my heart? I am willing not only to be bound, but to die for the Lord Jesus.' After fervent prayer, I took my leave of some, but being to preach at Gloucester in the West Jerseys, others accompanied me in boats over the river. We sung as we sailed, but my heart was low. I preached at Gloucester, but found myself weighed down, and was not able to deliver my sermon with my usual vigor. However, there was an affecting melting, and several, as I heard afterwards, who had been in bondage before, at that time received joy in the Holy Ghost. I rode on in company with several to Greenwich, and preached to a few, with scarce any power. In the evening we travelled on a few miles, but my body was more and more out of order, and I thought God was preparing me for future blessings. It is good to be humbled. I am never better than when I am brought to lie at the foot of the cross. It is a certain sign God intends that soul a greater crown. Lord, let me always feel myself a poor sinner." On Tuesday he preached at Pilesgrove to about two thousand people, but saw only a few affected. "At night," he says, "God was pleased so abundantly to refresh my soul as to make me forget the weakness of my body; I prayed and exhorted with great power in the family where I lodged." On Wednesday, at Cohansey, where Gilbert Tennent had prepared the way for him, he says, "Preached to some thousands both morning and afternoon. The word gradually struck the hearers, till the whole congregation was greatly moved, and two cried out in the bitterness of their souls after a crucified Saviour, and were scarcely able to stand. My soul was replenished as with new wine, and life and power flew all around me." At Salem, on the 20th, he preached in the morning at the court-house, and in the afternoon in the open air before the prison, to about two thousand persons. "Both times God was with us." On Friday, November 21, he got with some difficulty to Newcastle, where he preached in the court-house, and "observed some few affected, and some few scoffing." Here he was joined by Mr. Charles Tennent, who had lately married a young lady awakened under Whitefield's ministry. They went on to White Clay creek, "and God," says he, "was pleased to appear for me in an extraordinary manner. There were many thousands waiting to hear the word. I have not seen a more lovely sight. I sang the twenty-third psalm, and these words gave my soul unspeakable comfort:

"'In presence of my spiteful foes,

He does my table spread.'

"The Lord Jesus assisted me in preaching. The melting soon began, and the power increased more and more, till the greatest part of the congregation was exceedingly moved. Several cried out in different parts, and others were to be seen wringing their hands and weeping bitterly. The stir was ten times greater than when I was here last." At Fagg's Manor, on Saturday afternoon, he preached "to many thousands, and God was pleased mightily to own his word. There was a wondrous powerful moving, but it did not rise to such a degree as when I preached here last spring. I was taken ill after preaching." After still farther labors, he retired to rest, and he says, "The Lord gave me sweet sleep, and in the morning I arose with my natural strength much renewed." This was the Sabbath, and he preached at Nottingham "to a large congregation, who seemed in no wise to regard the rain, so they might be watered with the dew of God's blessing."

On the following afternoon, at Bohemia, in Maryland, he says, "Preached to about two thousand, and have not seen a more solid melting, I think, since my arrival. Some scoffers stood on the outside, but the Holy Spirit enabled me to lay the terrors of the Lord before them, and they grew more serious. My soul much rejoiced in the Lord to see salvation brought to Maryland." On Tuesday, November 25, "came to Reedy Island, and had the wonderful presence of God in the assembly in the afternoon. Several of my dear Philadelphia friends came to take their last farewell." On Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, he preached again. "The Lord was with us every time. I was greatly delighted to see the captains of the ships, and their respective crews, come constantly to hear the word of God on shore, and join with us in religious exercises on board."

On December 1, when they sailed from Reedy Island to Charleston, he wrote in his journal, "But before I go on, stop, O my soul, and look back a little on the great things the Lord hath done for thee during this excursion. I think 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, one hundred and seventy-five times in public, besides exhorting very frequently in private. I have travelled upwards of eight hundred miles, and gotten upwards of £700 sterling in goods, provisions, and money for my poor orphans. Never did God vouchsafe me such great assistances. Never did I perform my journeys with so little fatigue, or see such a continuance of the divine presence in the congregations to whom I have preached. All things concur to convince me that America is to be my chief scene for action."

In about eight days, he arrived at Charleston, where he found there had recently been a large fire, and to improve the sad event he preached a sermon, and passed on to his own home, where he found all well, and where he made arrangements for his voyage to England, leaving on the 29th of December. On that day he narrowly escaped death. A laborer was walking behind him with a gun under his arm, which went off unawares; happily its muzzle was towards the ground, "otherwise," says Whitefield, "I and one of my friends, in all probability, should have been killed; for we were directly before, and not above a yard or two distant from it. How ought we to live in such a state as we would not fear to die in; for in the midst of life we are in death!" In the evening he preached his farewell sermon as pastor of Savannah.

On Mr. Whitefield's arrival at Charleston, in company with two gentlemen named Bryan, who had been called to suffer persecution for Christ's sake, he had the happiness of meeting his brother, the captain of a vessel from England, who gave him much interesting intelligence of the Christians in that country. Commencing with the Sabbath, he preached twice every day, in addition to expounding the Scriptures almost every evening, and expresses his gratitude for divine assistance. But though he had much to rejoice in, he had also more than one source of sorrow. Some professors of religion, of whom he had hoped well, had fallen away, and not a few of his enemies were even more enraged than formerly. Hugh Bryan had written a letter, in which, among other matters, "it was hinted that the clergy break their canons." At the request of Jonathan Bryan, Whitefield had corrected it for the press, and it was published while he was now in the city. Hugh Bryan was apprehended, and on his examination, being asked, frankly confessed that Whitefield had corrected and made some alterations in it. Writing on January 10, he says, "This evening a constable came to me with the following warrant:

"'South Carolina SS. By B – W – , etc. Whereas I have received information upon oath that George Whitefield, Clerk, hath made and composed a false, malicious, scandalous, and infamous Libel against the Clergy of this Province, in contempt of His Majesty and His Laws, and against the King's Peace: These are therefore, in His Majesty's Name, to charge and command you and each of you forthwith to apprehend the said George Whitefield, and to bring him before Me to answer the premises. Hereof fail not, at your peril. And for your so doing this shall be your and each of your sufficient Warrant. Given under my hand and seal this tenth day of January, in the fourteenth year of His Majesty's Reign, Anno Domini one thousand seven hundred and forty [one.]

    "'B – W – .'"

Whitefield gave security to appear by his attorney at the next quarter sessions, under penalty of one hundred pounds proclamation money. "Blessed be God," he says in his journal, "for this further honor. My soul rejoices in it. I think this may be called persecution. I think it is for righteousness' sake." The next morning he preached on Herod sending the wise men to find out Christ, professing a desire to worship him, but intending to kill him; persecution under pretence of religion, being his theme. The afternoon sermon was on the murder of Naboth, from which he discoursed on the abuse of power by men in authority. He says, "My hearers, as well as myself, made the application. It was pretty close." No doubt it was. In the evening he expounded the narrative of Orpah and Ruth, and exhorted his hearers to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, though his cause be never so much persecuted and spoken against.

On the following Thursday, he received several highly gratifying letters from his friends at Boston. Mr. Secretary Willard said to him, "Divers young men in this town, who are candidates for the ministry, have been brought under deep convictions by your preaching, and are carried off from the foundation of their false hopes to rest only upon Christ for salvation."

The Rev. Mr. Cooper wrote, "I can inform you that there are many abiding proofs that you did not run in vain, and labor in vain among us in this place. I can only say now in general, some have been awakened who were before quite secure, and I hope a good work begun in them. Others, who had been under religious impressions, are now more earnestly pressing into the kingdom of heaven, and many of the children of God are stirred up to give diligence for the full assurance of faith. There is a greater flocking to all the lectures in the town, and the people show such a disposition to the new Tuesday evening lecture, that our large capacious house cannot receive all that come. I am sure your visit to us has made a large addition to the prayers that are going up for you in one place and another, and I hope also unto the jewels that are to make up your crown in the day of the Lord."

In addition to these statements, Mr. Welch, a pious merchant, wrote, "I fear I am tedious, but I cannot break off till I just mention, to the glory of the grace of God, and for your comfort and encouragement, the success your ministry of late has had among us. Impressions made seem to be abiding on the minds of many. The doctrines of grace seem to be more the topic of conversation than ever I knew them. Nay, religious conversation seems to be almost fashionable, and almost every one seems disposed to hear or speak of the things of God. Multitudes flock to the evening lecture, though it has sometimes been the worst of weather. Ministers seem to preach with more life, and the great auditories seem to hear with solemn attention, and I hope our Lord Jesus is getting to himself the victory over the hearts of many sinners."

These, and other letters of a similar character, filled the heart of Whitefield with grateful pleasure; and he went on preaching and enjoying the society of his friends till Friday, January 16. He says, "I never received such generous tokens of love, I think, from any people before, as from some in Charleston. They so loaded me with sea-stores, that I sent many of them to Savannah." He now went on board, and was fully engaged in preparations for the voyage, which however was not entered on till the 24th. On that day the Minerva sailed over Charleston bar, and after a generally pleasant voyage, they landed at Falmouth, March 11. "This," says he, "was a profitable voyage to my soul, because of my having had many sweet opportunities for reading, meditation, and prayer."

The impartiality of history requires us, however reluctantly, here to notice the separation which to some extent now took place between Whitefield, and his old friends Messrs. John and Charles Wesley. Their mutual attachment in early life we have already seen, as also Whitefield's anxiety in Georgia to defend Mr. John Wesley's conduct against those who opposed him. Impartial observers, however, after a while began to remark, that on some doctrinal points, especially on that of predestination, a difference was springing up. On his passage to England, February 1, 1741, Whitefield thus wrote to Mr. Charles Wesley: "My dear, dear brethren, why did you throw out the bone of contention? Why did you print that sermon against predestination? Why did you in particular, my dear brother Charles, affix your hymn, and join in putting out your late hymn-book? How can you say you will not dispute with me about election, and yet print such hymns? and your brother sent his sermon against election, to Mr. Garden and others in America. Do not you think, my dear brethren, I must be as much concerned for truth, or what I think truth, as you? God is my judge, I always was, and hope I always shall be desirous that you may be preferred before me. But I must preach the gospel of Christ, and that I cannot now do, without speaking of election." He then tells Mr. Charles Wesley, that in Christmas-week he had written an answer to his brother's sermon, "which," says he, "is now printing at Charleston; another copy I have sent to Boston, and another I now bring with me, to print in London. If it occasion a strangeness between us, it shall not be my fault. There is nothing in my answer exciting to it, that I know of. O, my dear brethren, my heart almost bleeds within me. Methinks I could be willing to tarry here on the waters for ever, rather than come to England to oppose you."

Dr. Whitehead, in his "Life of John Wesley," has very wisely said, "Controversy almost always injures the Christian temper, much more than it promotes the interests of speculative truth. On this question a separation took place between Mr. Wesley and Mr. Whitefield, so far as to have different places of worship; and some warm and tart expressions dropped from each. But their good opinion of each other's integrity and usefulness, founded on long and intimate acquaintance, could not be injured by such a difference of sentiment; and their mutual affection was only obscured by a cloud for a season."