WHITEFIELD'S FIRST VISIT TO NEW ENGLAND.
SEPTEMBER TO NOVEMBER, 1740.
The religious state of New England in the early part of the
eighteenth century, was little better than the description we
have already given of the state of Great Britain and its other
dependencies at that period. Dr. Prince tells us, that the first age
of New England was one of an almost continual revival. Preaching was
attended with so much power in some places, "that it was a common
inquiry, by such members of a family as were detained at home on a
Sabbath, whether any had been visibly awakened in the house of God
that day." And he adds, "Few Sabbaths did pass without some being
evidently converted, and some convincing proof of the power of God
accompanying his word."
Dr. Increase Mather, writing towards the close of the seventeenth
century, while he confirms the statements we have already given,
bears farther testimony which is of a very painful character.
He says, "Prayer is necessary on this account, that conversions
have become rare in this age of the world. They that have their
thoughts exercised in discerning things of this nature, have sad
apprehensions that the work of conversion has come to a stand.
During the last age scarcely a sermon was preached without some
being apparently converted, and sometimes hundreds were converted
by one sermon. Who of us now can say that we have seen any thing
such as this? Clear, sound conversions are not frequent in our
congregations; the great bulk of the present generation are
apparently poor, perishing, and if the Lord prevent not, undone;
many are profane, drunkards, lascivious, scoffers at the power of
godliness, and disobedient; others are civil and outwardly conformed
to good order, because so educated, but without knowing aught of
a real change of heart." The same estimable writer says, in 1721,
"I am now in my eighty-third year, and having had an opportunity
of conversing with the first planters of this country, and having
been for _sixty-five_ years a preacher of the gospel, I feel as did
the ancient men who had seen the former temple, and who wept aloud
as they saw the latter. The children of New England are, or once
were, for the most part, the children of godly parents. What did our
fathers come into this wilderness for? Not to gain estates as men
do now, but for religion, and that they might have their children
in a hopeful way of being truly religious. There was a famous man
who preached before one of the greatest assemblies that ever was
addressed; it was about seventy years ago; and he said to them, 'I
lived in a country seven years, and all that time I never heard a
profane oath, or saw a man drunk.' And where was that country? It
was New England. Ah, degenerate New England! What art thou come to
at this day? How are those sins become common that were once not
even heard of!"
Passing over, for the present, indications of a revival of religion,
which had appeared in other parts of the country, we speak now
only of New England. In 1734, a very extraordinary work of grace
appeared at Northampton, Massachusetts, under the ministry of the
distinguished Jonathan Edwards, the elder, the history of which is
given in his admirable "Narrative of the surprising Work of God" at
that period, in Northampton and the vicinity.
It is important to remark here, that the preaching which led to such
delightful results was of the most faithful and pungent character.
We will give one instance, as illustrative of many, as will be
distinctly seen by those who have read EDWARDS' sermon, "_Sinners
in the hands of an angry God_," or his "_Justice of God in the
damnation of Sinners_." Perhaps, however, no sermon in New England
has ever acquired greater celebrity, or accomplished more good, than
the one preached by President Edwards at Enfield, July 8, 1741, from
the words, "Their feet shall slide in due time." Deut. 32:35. "When
they went into the meeting-house, the appearance of the assembly was
thoughtless and vain; the people scarcely conducted themselves with
common decency." But as the sermon proceeded, the audience became
so overwhelmed with distress and weeping, that the preacher was
"obliged to speak to the people and desire silence, that he might
be heard." The excitement soon became intense; and it is said that
a minister who sat in the pulpit with Mr. Edwards, in the agitation
of his feelings, caught the preacher by the skirt of his dress, and
said, "Mr. Edwards, Mr. Edwards, is not God a God of mercy?" Many of
the hearers were seen unconsciously holding themselves up against
the pillars, and the sides of the pews, as though they already felt
themselves sliding into the pit. This fact has often been mentioned
as a proof of the strong and scriptural character of President
Edwards' peculiar eloquence--the eloquence of truth as attended by
influence from heaven; for his sermons were read, without gestures.
But there was another element which must be taken into account when
we look at the result of this sermon, as well as others delivered in
like circumstances, and one which we fear has been often overlooked.
"While the people of the neighboring towns were in great distress
about their souls, the inhabitants of Enfield were very secure,
loose, and vain. A lecture had been appointed there, and the
neighboring people were so affected at the thoughtlessness of the
inhabitants, and had so much fear that God would, in his righteous
judgment, pass them by, that many of them were prostrate before
him a considerable part of the previous evening, supplicating the
mercy of heaven in their behalf. And when the time appointed for the
lecture came, a number of the surrounding ministers were present,
as well as some from a distance"--a proof of the prayerful interest
felt on behalf of the town. In all this we see much of the secret
of the powerful impression produced by that sermon, and are taught
that in seasons when God seems about to pour out his Spirit on a
community, Christians should be found "continuing instant in prayer."
In this more hopeful state of things than had long before existed
in New England, Whitefield, who was now the second time in America,
was most urgently entreated to visit the descendants of the Pilgrim
fathers. He complied with the request, and arrived at Newport on
the evening of the Sabbath, September 14, 1740. We furnish an
account, written chiefly by himself, in his journal, published in
London, 1741, a copy of which may be found in the library of Harvard
University, to which we have had a kind access, and which is rich in
what we may term _Whitefieldian lore_. He writes,
"Was sick part of the passage, but found afterwards the sea-air,
under God, much improved my health. Arrived at Newport, in Rhode
Island, just after the beginning of evening service. We came
purposely thither first with our sloop. I think it the most pleasant
entrance I ever yet saw. Almost all the morning the wind was
contrary; but I found a very strong inclination to pray that we
might arrive time enough to be present at public worship. Once I
called the people; but something prevented their coming. At last,
finding my impression increase upon me, I desired their attendance
immediately. They came. With a strong assurance that we should be
heard, we prayed that the Lord would turn the wind, that we might
give him thanks in the great congregation; and also that he would
send such to us as he would have us to converse with, and who might
show us a lodging. Though the wind was ahead when we began, when we
had done praying, and came up out of the cabin, it was quite fair.
"With a gentle gale we sailed most pleasantly into the harbor; got
into public worship before they had finished the psalms; and sat, as
I thought, undiscovered. After service was over, a gentleman asked
me whether my name was not Whitefield. I told him 'yes;' he then
desired me to go to his house, and he would take care to provide
lodgings and necessaries for me and my friends. I went, silently
admiring God's goodness in answering my prayer so minutely. Several
gentlemen of the town soon came to pay their respects to me, among
whom was one Mr. Clap, an aged dissenting minister, but the most
venerable man I ever saw. He looked like a good old Puritan, and
gave me an idea of what stamp those men were who first settled New
England. His countenance was very heavenly; he rejoiced much in
spirit at the sight of me, and prayed most affectionately for a
blessing on my coming to Rhode Island."
In the evening, in company with Mr. Clap and other friends,
Whitefield visited Mr. Honeyman, the minister of the church of
England, and requested the use of his pulpit. "At first he seemed
a little unwilling, being desirous to know 'what extraordinary
call I had to preach on week-days,' which he said was disorderly.
I answered, 'St. Paul exhorted Timothy to 'be instant in season
and out of season;' that if the orders of the church were rightly
complied with, our ministers should read public prayers twice every
day, and then it would not be disorderly at such times to give them
a sermon. As to an extraordinary call, I claimed none otherwise than
upon the apostle's injunction, 'As we have opportunity, let us do
good unto all men.' He still held out, and did not give any positive
answer; but at last, after he had withdrawn and consulted with the
gentlemen, he said, 'If my preaching would promote the glory of
God, and the good of souls, I was welcome to his church as often
as I would, during my stay in town.' We then agreed to make use of
it at ten in the morning, and three in the afternoon. After this,
I went to wait on the governor, who seemed to be a very plain man,
and had a very plain house, which much pleased me. By profession,
I think he is a Seventh-day Baptist; he is a man of good report
as to his conduct and dealing with the world." As might have been
expected, the evening was spent in exposition and prayer, with a
crowded company, in the house of his friend Bowers, the gentleman
who first addressed him when coming out of church.
On Monday morning, he breakfasted with "old Mr. Clap, and was much
edified by his conversation." Of this venerable servant of Christ
he says, "I could not but think, while at his table, that I was
sitting with one of the patriarchs. He is full of days, a bachelor,
and has been minister of a congregation in Rhode Island upwards of
forty years. People of all denominations, I find, respect him. He
abounds in good works; gives all away, and is wonderfully tender of
little children; many of different persuasions come to be instructed
by him. Whenever he dies, I am persuaded, with good old Simeon, he
will be enabled to say, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart
in peace.'" Whitefield preached, according to appointment, morning
and afternoon, "in the church. It is very commodious, and I believe
will contain three thousand people. It was more than filled in the
afternoon. Persons of all denominations attended. God assisted me
much. I observed numbers affected, and had great reason to believe
the word of the Lord had been 'sharper than a twoedged sword,' in
some of the hearers' souls."
On the evening of the same day he received the following note:
REVEREND SIR AND BELOVED BROTHER--Although mine eyes never saw
your face before this day, yet my heart and soul have been
united to you in love, by the bond of the Spirit. I have longed
and expected to see you for many months past. Blessed be God,
mine eyes have seen the joyful day. I trust, through grace, I
have some things to communicate to you that will make your heart
glad. I shall omit writing any thing, and only hereby present
my hearty love, and let you know that I am waiting now at the
post of your door for admission. Though I am unworthy, my Lord
is worthy, in whose name, I trust, I come. I am your unworthy
brother,
"JONATHAN BARBER."
"On reading it," says Whitefield, "I could not but think this was
one of those young ministers whom God had lately made use of in such
a remarkable manner, at the east end of Long Island. I sent for him,
and found he was the man. My heart rejoiced. We walked out, and took
sweet counsel together; and among other things, he told me that he
came to Rhode Island under a full conviction that he should see me
there, and had been waiting for me about a week.... What rendered
this more remarkable was, I had no intention of sailing to Rhode
Island till about three days before I left Carolina; and I had a
great desire to put in, if I could, at the east end of Long Island,
to see this very person, whom the great God now brought unto me.
Lord, accept our thanks, sanctify our meeting, and teach us both
what we shall do for thine own name's sake. In the evening I went
to the venerable Mr. Clap's, and exhorted and prayed with a great
multitude, who not only crowded into the house, but thronged every
way about it. The dear old man rejoiced to see the things which
he saw; and after my exhortation was over, dismissed me with his
blessing."
Tuesday, we scarcely need remark, was spent by Whitefield in the
work of his great Master. He preached to a vast congregation,
including the members of the House of Assembly, who adjourned to
attend the service; and he had very delightful evidence that his
labors had already been useful. On Wednesday he left Newport, and
about noon preached at Bristol, at the request of the court, which
was then in session, and slept that night at a hotel on the road to
Boston. On Thursday morning he set out early, and as he passed on
with his friends, he says, "Found that the people were apprized of
my coming, and were solicitous for my preaching; but being resolved
under God, if possible, to reach Boston, we travelled on for near
fifty miles, and came to Boston about eight in the evening. When
we were within four miles of the city, the governor's son, several
other gentlemen, and one or two ministers, waited at a gentleman's
house to give me the meeting. They received me with great gladness,
and told me many more would have come, had not a large funeral
been in the town, or if there had been more certain notice of my
arriving. This rejoiced me; for I think I can stand any thing
better than this. It savors too much of human grandeur. But I must
be tried every way; the Lord be my helper. After stopping a while,
we went together to Boston, to the house of one Mr. Sandiford,
brother-in-law to the Rev. Dr. Colman, who long since had sent me an
invitation.... My heart was but low, and my body weak; but, at the
request of one of the ministers, I gave thanks to our gracious God
for bringing me in safety, and prayed that my coming might be in the
fulness of the blessing of the gospel of peace."
He slept well that night, and the next morning, he says, "I
perceived fresh emanations of divine light break in upon and refresh
my soul." He was visited by several gentlemen, including Josiah
Willard, Esq., the secretary of the province, a man who feared God,
and with whom Whitefield had for some time been in correspondence.
The governor, Belcher, received him with the utmost respect, and
requested frequent visits. He attended public worship at the church
of England, and waited on the commissary home, who received him
very courteously. As it was a day on which the clergy of that body
had a meeting, he came into the company of five of them assembled
together. They soon attacked him "for calling _that Tennent_ and
his brethren faithful ministers of Christ." He answered, that he
believed they were so. They questioned the validity of Presbyterian
ordination, and quoted from his journal his own words against him.
He replied, that perhaps his sentiments were altered. They then
went into a doctrinal discussion, which continued till Whitefield,
finding how inconsistent they were, took his leave, resolving that
they should not have the opportunity of denying him their pulpits.
However, they treated him, on the whole, with more courtesy than he
had lately been accustomed to receive from the ministers of his own
church.
In the afternoon of the same day, he preached to a vast congregation
in the Rev. Dr. Colman's meeting-house, in Brattle-street, and in
the evening exhorted and prayed with such as came to his lodgings.
On Saturday, in the forenoon, he discoursed to a crowded audience at
the Old South church, where Dr. Sewall was pastor, the only church
edifice in Boston with which Whitefield was connected which is still
standing as it then was. In the afternoon he preached on the Common
to about eight thousand persons, and, at night to a thronged company
at his own lodgings.
On the morning of the next day, which was the Sabbath, he heard
Dr. Colman preach; in the afternoon, he preached at Mr. Foxcroft's
meeting-house to a vast auditory. This gentleman was the senior
pastor of the First church, meeting in Chauncy-place, and the
Rev. Charles Chauncy was his colleague. The church edifice was in
Cornhill-square, not far from the old state-house, and was usually
called the "Old Brick meeting." As this house was by far too small
to contain his auditory, he almost immediately afterwards preached
on the Common, to about fifteen thousand hearers; and again at night
at his lodgings. He says, "Some afterwards came into my room. I felt
much of the divine presence in my own soul, and though hoarse was
enabled to speak with much power, and could have spoke, I believe,
till midnight."
On Monday morning, Whitefield preached at Mr. Webb's meeting-house,
the "New North," on the corner of Clark and Hanover streets. "The
presence of the Lord," he says, "was among us. Look where I would
around me, visible impressions were made upon the auditory. Most
wept for a considerable time." In the afternoon he meant to have
preached at Mr. Cheekley's, in Summer-street, but was prevented
by an accident. Just before the time for the commencement of the
service, a person broke a board in one of the galleries, of which
to make a seat; the noise alarmed some who heard it, and they
imprudently cried out that the galleries were giving way. The
house being much crowded, the whole congregation were thrown into
the utmost alarm and disorder; some jumped from the gallery into
the seats below, others fell from the windows, and those below
pressing to get out of the porch, were many of them thrown over each
other and trodden upon. Many, as might be expected, were seriously
bruised; others had bones broken; and within two days five persons
died from the injuries they had received. Mr. Whitefield's presence
of mind did not fail him; he immediately led the anxious throng to
the Common, and preached to them from the text, "Go ye out into the
highways and hedges, and compel them to come in." He says, "The
weather was wet, but above eight thousand followed into the fields."
On Tuesday morning, Whitefield visited Mr. Walter, at Roxbury. This
gentleman had been the colleague, and was now the successor of John
Eliot, "the apostle of the Indians." These two men had been pastors
of that church one hundred and six years. Whitefield was much
pleased with Walter, who, in return, was glad to hear that he, like
old Bishop Beveridge, called man "half a devil and half a beast." He
preached that forenoon at Mr. Gee's meeting-house, the "Old North,"
of which church the celebrated Dr. Cotton Mather had formerly been
pastor. The house stood in the North square, and was taken down by
the British army and burned for fuel at the siege of Boston, in
1776. The auditory Whitefield preached to that morning was not very
crowded, as the people were in doubt where he would preach. After
dining with the secretary of the province, he says, "I preached
in the afternoon at Dr. Sewall's to a thronged congregation, and
exhorted and prayed as usual at my own lodgings; at neither place
without some manifestations of a divine power accompanying the word."
Wednesday was not lost. Whitefield himself shall describe its
proceedings. "Went this morning to see and preach at Cambridge, the
chief college for training up the sons of the prophets in all New
England. It has one president, I think four tutors, and about a
hundred students. It is scarce as big as one of our least colleges
in Oxford, and as far as I could gather from some who well knew the
state of it, not far superior to our universities in piety and true
godliness. Tutors neglect to pray with, and examine the hearts of
their pupils. Discipline is at too low an ebb. Bad books are become
fashionable. Tillotson and Clarke are read instead of Sheppard,
Stoddard, and such like evangelical writers; and therefore I chose
to preach on these words: 'We are not as many, who corrupt the
word of God;' and in the conclusion of my sermon I made a close
application to tutors and students. A great number of neighboring
ministers attended, as indeed they do at all other times, and God
gave me great boldness and freedom of speech. The president of the
college and minister of the parish treated me very civilly. In the
afternoon I preached again in the court, without any particular
application to the students. I believe there were about seven
thousand hearers. The Holy Spirit melted many hearts. The word was
attended with a manifest power; and a minister soon after wrote me
word, that 'he believed one of his daughters was savingly wrought
upon at that time.' Paid my respects to the lieutenant-governor,
who lives at Cambridge, and returned in the evening to Boston, and
prayed with and exhorted many people who were waiting round the door
for a spiritual morsel. I believe our Lord did not send them empty
away."
An elm under which Whitefield preached in Cambridge became
distinguished; it being under its shade that Washington, thirty-one
years after, first drew his sword in the cause of the Revolution,
on taking the command of the American army. From this circumstance,
it has been called the "Washington elm." The last time the late
distinguished Dr. Holyoke, of Salem, Mass., was in Cambridge, then
nearly a hundred years old, while passing this tree with a friend,
he said that he heard Whitefield's sermon, being at the time a
student in college.
On Thursday he preached the weekly lecture at Mr. Foxcroft's, the
First church. But he says, "I was so oppressed with a sense of my
base ingratitude to my dearest Saviour, that Satan would fain have
tempted me to hold my tongue, and not invite poor sinners to Jesus
Christ, because I was so great a sinner myself. But God enabled
me to withstand the temptation, and since Jesus Christ had shown
such mercy to, and had not withdrawn his Holy Spirit from me, the
chief of sinners, I was enabled more feelingly to talk of his love;
and afterwards found that one stranger, in particular, was in all
probability effectually convinced by that morning's sermon. After
public worship, I went, at his excellency's invitation, and dined
with the governor. Most of the ministers of the town were invited
with me. Before dinner, the governor sent for me up into his
chamber. He wept, wished me 'good luck in the name of the Lord,'
and recommended himself, ministers, and people to my prayers.
Immediately after dinner, I prayed explicitly for them all, and
went in his coach to the end of the town; but had such a sense of
my vileness upon my soul, that I wondered people did not stone me.
Crossed a ferry, and preached at Charlestown, a town lying on the
north side of Boston. The meeting-house was very capacious, and
quite filled. A gracious melting was discernible through the whole
congregation, and I perceived much freedom and sweetness in my own
soul, though the damp I felt in the morning was not quite gone off.
In the evening I exhorted and prayed as usual at my lodgings; and
blessed be God, I found a great alteration in my hearers. They now
began to melt and weep under the word."
On Friday, the following day, he preached in the morning at Roxbury,
from a little ascent, to many thousands of people, with much of the
divine presence. Several came to him afterwards, telling him how
they were struck with the word. Having dined with Judge Dudley, he
preached to a still larger congregation from a scaffold erected
outside Mr. Byles' meeting-house in Hollis-street. Wrote to several
friends in England; gave a short exhortation to a large crowd of
hearers; and then spent the evening with several ministers in
edifying conversation, singing, and prayer.
Saturday, he preached in the morning at Mr. Welsteed's
meeting-house, and in the afternoon to about fifteen thousand
people on the Common. "But Oh, how did the word run! It rejoiced
me to see such numbers greatly affected, so that some, I believe,
could scarcely abstain from crying out. That place was no other
than a Bethel, and a gate of heaven." After he had gone home to his
lodgings he says, "The power and presence of the Lord accompanied
and followed me. Many now wept bitterly, and cried out under the
word like persons that were really hungering and thirsting after
righteousness; and after I left them, God gave me to wrestle with
him in my chamber, in behalf of some dear friends then present,
and others that were absent from us. The Spirit of the Lord was
upon them all. It made intercession with groanings that cannot be
uttered."
On the day following, being the Sabbath, in the morning he preached
at the Old South church, Dr. Sewall's, to a very crowded auditory,
"with almost as much power and visible appearance of God as
yesterday. Collected £555 currency for my little lambs; was taken
very ill after dinner; vomited violently, but was enabled to preach
at Dr. Colman's in the afternoon to as great, if not a greater
congregation than in the morning. Here also £470 were collected for
the orphan-house in Georgia. In both places all things were carried
on with decency and order. People went slowly out, as though they
had not a mind to escape giving; and Dr. Colman said 'it was the
most pleasant time he ever enjoyed in that meeting-house through the
whole course of his life.' Blessed be God, after sermon I perceived
myself somewhat refreshed. Supped very early. Had the honor of a
private visit from the governor, who came full of affection to
take his leave of me for the present. Went, at their request, and
preached to a great company of negroes, on the conversion of the
Ethiopian, Acts the eighth; at which the poor creatures, as well as
many white people, were much affected; and at my return, gave an
exhortation to a crowd of people who were waiting at my lodgings. My
animal spirits were almost exhausted, and my legs, through expense
of sweating and vomiting, almost ready to sink under me; but the
Lord visited my soul, and I went to bed greatly refreshed with
divine consolations." Even at this early period such sufferings of
his bodily system frequently followed his herculean labors.
Early on Monday morning, Sept. 29, Whitefield left Boston on an
excursion to the eastward. At Marblehead, he "preached to some
thousands in a broad place in the middle of the town, but not with
much apparent effect." At Salem, he "preached to about seven
thousand people. Here the Lord manifested forth his glory. One man
was, I believe, struck down by the power of the word. In every part
of the congregation, persons might be seen under great concern." He
went on to Ipswich, where he was kindly "entertained at the house
of Mr. Rogers, one of the ministers of the place." Of this family
our evangelist was soon to know more than he had hitherto done. At
about this period, John Rogers, aged 77, and Nathanael Rogers, were
joint pastors of the First church at Ipswich; both of them were
ardent promoters of the revival, as was also Daniel Rogers, of the
same family. Whitefield learned with deep interest that his host
was a descendant of the celebrated martyr, John Rogers. The next
day he preached there to some thousands. "The Lord," says he, "gave
me freedom, and there was a great melting in the congregation." At
Newbury, in the afternoon, the Lord accompanied the word with power.
The meeting-house was very large, many ministers were present, and
the people were greatly affected. Blessed be God, his divine power
attends us more and more." Wednesday, he preached at Hampton, in
the open air, to some thousands. He was here very highly gratified
with the conversation of Mr. Colton, the minister, and with the
Christian simplicity of his excellent wife. The high wind prevented
his being heard so well as he usually was, and he did not enjoy his
accustomed freedom; still, "some, though not many, were affected."
At Portsmouth, he "preached to a polite auditory, but so very
unconcerned, that I began to question whether I had been speaking
to rational or brute creatures. Seeing no immediate effects of
the word preached, I was a little dejected; but God, to comfort my
heart, sent one young man, crying out in great anguish of spirit,
'What shall I do to be saved?'"
From Portsmouth, our evangelist proceeded to York, in Maine, "to
see one Mr. Moody, a worthy, plain, and powerful minister of Jesus
Christ, though now much impaired by old age. He has lived by faith
for many years, would have no settled salary, and has been much
despised by bad men, and as much respected by the true lovers of
the blessed Jesus." The next morning he was much comforted to hear,
from Mr. Moody, that he would preach that morning to a hundred new
creatures; "and indeed," says he, "I believe I did; for when I came
to preach, I could speak little or no terror, but most consolation."
He preached morning and evening. "The hearers looked plain and
simple, and the tears trickled apace down most of their cheeks." He
returned to Portsmouth that night, and the next morning preached to
a far greater congregation, and with much better effect than before.
"Instead of preaching to dead stocks, I now had reason to believe I
was preaching to living men. People began to melt soon after I began
to pray; and the power increased more and more during the whole
sermon." This was still more clearly evinced after Mr. Whitefield's
departure from the town.
Returning to Boston, through Salem, Marblehead, and Malden, in each
of which places he preached, and being now in improved health, he
preached, October 7, both morning and evening, "with much power,"
at Brattle-street. There had been for several days a report in
circulation, that he had died suddenly, or was poisoned, and the
people greatly rejoiced again to see him alive. At Mr. Webb's, the
New North church, on the following Wednesday, he thought there was
more of the presence of God through the whole ministration, than
he had before, known at one time in the course of his life. He
went there with the governor, in his coach, and preached morning
and evening. "Jesus Christ manifested forth his glory; many hearts
melted within them; and I think I was never drawn out to pray for
and invite little children to Jesus Christ, as I was this morning. A
little before, I had heard of a child who was taken sick just after
it had heard me preach, and said he would go to Mr. Whitefield's
God, and died in a short time. This encouraged me to speak to the
little ones. But O, how were the old people affected when I said,
'Little children, if your parents will not come to Christ, do you
come, and go to heaven without them.' There seemed to be but few
dry eyes, look where I would. I have not seen a greater commotion
since my preaching at Boston. Glory be to God, who has not forgotten
to be gracious." He collected, after this sermon, £440 for his
orphan-house, which was now more generally supported than ever
before.
The interesting fact we have just related of the impression produced
on the mind of a little child by the preaching of Mr. Whitefield,
may afford the opportunity to introduce one or two other facts
bearing on the same general topic, and suggesting some practical
lessons.
Whitefield could indeed descend to talk with children. Here is
a specimen which at once impresses us with a lively idea of his
spirit, and of the adaptation of the religion of Jesus to the young
as well as the old. A little girl seven years of age, when on her
death-bed, desired an interview with him; he came, and thus they
conversed:
WHITEFIELD. For what purpose, my dear child, have you sent for me?
GIRL. I think I am dying, and I wished very much to see you.
WHITEFIELD. What can I do for you?
GIRL. You can tell me about Christ, and pray for me.
WHITEFIELD. My dear girl, what do you know about Christ?
GIRL. I know he is the Saviour of the world.
WHITEFIELD. My dear child, he is so.
GIRL. I hope he will be _my_ Saviour also.
WHITEFIELD. I hope, my dear, that this is the language of faith out
of the mouth of a babe; but tell me what ground you have for saying
this?
GIRL. Oh, sir, he bids little children, such as I, to come unto him,
and says, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven;" and besides, I love
Christ, and am always glad when I think of him.
WHITEFIELD. My dear child, you make my very heart to rejoice; but
are you not a sinner?
GIRL. Yes, I am a sinner, but my blessed Redeemer takes away sin,
and I long to be with him.
WHITEFIELD. My dear girl, I trust that the desire of your heart will
be granted; but where do you think you will find your Redeemer?
GIRL. O, sir, I think I shall find him in heaven.
WHITEFIELD. Do you think you will get to heaven?
GIRL. Yes, I do.
WHITEFIELD. But what if you do not find Christ there?
GIRL. If I do not find Christ there, I am sure it is not heaven; for
where he dwells must be heaven, for there also dwells God, and holy
angels, and all that Christ saves.
Who can tell the results of a single sermon, or trace the
consequences of one conversion? When Mr. Whitefield was preaching
in New England, a lady became the subject of divine grace, and her
spirit was peculiarly drawn out in prayer for others. But in her
Christian exercises she was alone; she could persuade no one to pray
with her but her little daughter, about ten years of age. She took
this dear child into her closet from day to day, as a witness of her
cries and tears. After a time, it pleased God to touch the heart of
the child, and to give her the hope of salvation by the remission
of sin. In a transport of holy joy she then exclaimed, "O, mother,
if all the world knew this! I wish I could tell every body. Pray,
mother, let me run to some of the neighbors and tell them, that they
may be happy and love my Saviour too." "Ah, my dear child," said the
mother, "that would be useless, for I suppose that were you to tell
your experience, there is not one within many miles who would not
laugh at you, and say it was all delusion." "Oh, mother," replied
the dear girl, "I think they would believe me. I must go over to
the shoemaker and tell him; he will believe me." She ran over, and
found him at work in his shop. She began by telling him that he must
die, and that he was a sinner, and that she was a sinner, but that
her blessed Saviour had heard her mother's prayers, and had forgiven
all her sins; and that now she was so happy that she did not know
how to tell it. The shoemaker was struck with surprise, his tears
flowed down like rain; he threw aside his work, and by prayer and
supplication sought for mercy. The neighborhood were awakened, and
within a few months more than fifty persons were brought to the
knowledge of Jesus, and rejoiced in his power and grace.
But to return to our narrative of Whitefield's labors in Boston. On
Thursday, October 9, he preached the public lecture at the Old South
church. He had selected another text, but it was much impressed on
his heart that he should preach from our Lord's conference with
Nicodemus. A large number of ministers were present, and when he
came to the words, "Art thou a master in Israel, and knowest not
these things?" he says, "The Lord enabled me to open my mouth boldly
against unconverted ministers, to caution tutors to take care of
their pupils, and also to advise ministers particularly to examine
into the experiences of candidates for ordination. For I am verily
persuaded the generality of preachers talk of an unknown and unfelt
Christ; and the reason why congregations have been so dead is,
because they have had dead men preaching to them. O that the Lord
may quicken and revive them, for his own name's sake. For how can
dead men beget living children? It is true, indeed, God may convert
men by the devil, if he pleases, and so he may by unconverted
ministers; but I believe he seldom makes use of either of them for
this purpose. No; the Lord will choose vessels made meet by the
operations of the blessed Spirit for his sacred use: and as for
my own part, I would not lay hands on an unconverted man for ten
thousand worlds. Unspeakable freedom God gave me while treating on
this head. After sermon, I dined with the governor, who seemed more
kindly affected than ever, and particularly told me, of the minister
who has lately begun to preach extempore, that 'he was glad he had
found out a way to save his eyes.' In the afternoon I preached on
the Common to about fifteen thousand people, and collected upwards
of two hundred pounds for the orphan-house. Just as I had finished
my sermon, a ticket was put up to me, wherein I was desired to pray
for a person just entered upon the ministry, but under apprehension
that he was not converted. God enabled me to pray for him with my
whole heart; and I hope that ticket may teach many others not to
run before they can give an account of their conversion. If they
do, they offer to God strange fire." The same day and evening,
Whitefield attended the funeral of one of the provincial council,
preached at the almshouse, exhorted a great number of persons at
the workhouse, who followed him there, and conversed with many who
waited at his lodgings for spiritual advice. From the time of his
return from the east, he had been thronged, morning and evening,
with anxious inquirers. His friends cried, "Spare thyself;" but he
says, "I went and ate bread very comfortably at a friend's house,
where I was invited, and soon after retired to my rest. Oh, how
comfortable is sleep after working for Jesus."
On Friday he preached at Charlestown and at Reading to many
thousands, and on Saturday from the meeting-house door at Cambridge,
on Noah as a preacher of righteousness; a great number of persons
were present, who stood very attentively during a shower of rain,
and were at the latter part of the sermon much affected. On the same
afternoon he returned to Boston, and again preached, and was engaged
till midnight, chiefly in conversation and prayer with persons
anxious for their salvation.
Sunday, October 12, he rose with body and soul greatly refreshed,
and spent its early hours in conversing with those who came for
spiritual counsel. He then "preached with great power and affection"
at the Old South church, which was so exceedingly thronged, that
he was obliged to get in at one of the windows. He dined with the
governor, who came to him after dinner weeping, and desired his
prayers. He heard Dr. Sewall in the afternoon. Both during the
exercises and after them he was sick, but went with the governor in
his coach, and preached his farewell sermon on the Common, Gillies
says, to twenty thousand, and Tracy to nearly thirty thousand
people, though the whole population of Boston did not at that time
exceed twenty thousand. Great multitudes were melted into tears when
he spoke of leaving them. The governor then went with him to his
lodgings. He stood in the passage and spoke to a great company, both
within and without the doors; but they were so deeply affected, and
cried out so loud, that he was compelled to leave off praying. The
remaining part of the evening was chiefly spent in conversation with
inquirers.
In closing his account of this day's work, he exclaims, "Blessed be
God for what things he has done in Boston! I hope a glorious work is
now begun, and that the Lord will stir up some faithful laborers to
carry it on. Boston is a large, populous place, very wealthy. Has
the form kept up, but has lost much of the power of religion. I have
not heard of any remarkable stir for these many years. Ministers
and people are obliged to confess, that the love of many is waxed
cold. Both, for the generality, seem to be too much conformed
to the world. There is much of the pride of life to be seen in
their assemblies. Jewels, patches, and gay apparel are commonly
worn by the female sex; and even the common people, I observed
dressed up in the pride of life. There are nine meeting-houses of
the Congregational persuasion, one Baptist, one French, and one
belonging to the Scotch-Irish. One thing Boston is very remarkable
for--the external observance of the Sabbath. Men in civil offices
have a regard for religion. The governor encourages them, and the
ministers and magistrates are more united than in any other place
where I have been. Both were exceedingly civil to me during my stay.
I never saw so little scoffing, never had so little opposition.
But one might easily see much would hereafter arise, when I came
to be more particular in my application to particular persons; for
I fear many rest in a head-knowledge, are close pharisees, and
have only a name to live. It must needs be so when the power of
godliness is dwindled away, and where the form only of religion
is become fashionable among people. Boston people are dear to my
soul. They were greatly affected by the word, followed me night
and day, and were very liberal to my dear orphans. I promised, God
willing, to visit them again, and intend to fulfil my promise when
it shall please God to bring me again from my native country. In the
meanwhile, dear Boston, adieu. The Lord be with thy ministers and
people, and grant that the remnant which is still left according
to the election of grace, may take root downwards, and bear fruit
upwards, and fill the land."
On the morning following these solemn services, Whitefield left
Boston on his way to Northampton. To detail his four days' progress,
would be almost to repeat what we have already written. At Concord,
where he arrived on Monday about noon, he preached twice to some
thousands in the open air, "and a comfortable preaching it was. The
hearers were sweetly melted down." Mr. Bliss, the minister of the
town, of whose subsequent labors it has been well said, more perfect
accounts ought to have been preserved, wept abundantly. On Tuesday
he "preached at Sudbury to some thousands with power, and observed
a considerable commotion in the assembly;" as was also the case the
same afternoon at Marlborough. At the latter place he was met by
Governor Belcher, who went with him through the rain that night to
Worcester. Here, on Wednesday, he "preached in the open air to some
thousands. The word fell with weight indeed. It carried all before
it. After sermon, the governor said to me, 'I pray God I may apply
what has been said to my own heart. Pray, Mr. Whitefield, that I may
hunger and thirst after righteousness.'" Passing on, he preached
at Leicester, Brookfield, and Cold-Spring, on his way to Hadley,
where he arrived on Friday, and preached about noon. In this place
he says, "A great work was begun, and carried on some years ago;
but lately the people of God have complained of deadness and losing
their first love. However, as soon as I mentioned what God had done
for their souls formerly, it was like putting fire to timber. The
remembrance of it quickened them, and caused many to weep sorely."
On the same afternoon he crossed the ferry to Northampton.
Of the great revival of religion in New England, which commenced at
Northampton about 1734, and is the subject of President Edwards'
"Narrative," we have already briefly spoken; its importance will
justify a more extended notice. It began without any extraordinary
circumstances to awaken the attention of the people, or any uncommon
arrangements or efforts by the minister. The young people of the
place had for two or three years shown an increased measure of
thoughtfulness, and a growing disposition to receive religious
instruction. There had been, from time to time, instances of strong
religious impression and of hopeful conversion. But in the latter
end of December, 1734, five or six persons, one after another,
became very suddenly the subjects of the grace of God which newly
creates the soul. Among these was a young woman distinguished for
her gayety in youthful society, "one of the greatest company-keepers
in the whole town," who came to the pastor with a broken heart
and a contrite spirit, and with faith and hope in the Saviour of
sinners, before any one had heard of her being at all impressed
with serious things. The sudden, though, as time proved, the _real_
conversion of this young woman, was the power of God striking the
electric chain of religious sympathies which had imperceptibly,
but effectually encircled all the families of Northampton. Mr.
Edwards' "Narrative" says, "The news of it seemed to be almost
like a flash of lightning upon the hearts of young people all over
the town, and upon many others.... Presently a great and earnest
concern about the great things of religion and the eternal world
became universal in all parts of the town, and among persons of
all degrees and all ages. All talk but about spiritual and eternal
things was soon thrown by; all the conversation in all companies
was upon these things only, except so much as was necessary for
people carrying on their ordinary secular business. The minds of
people were wonderfully taken off from the world; it was treated
among us as a thing of very little consequence. All would eagerly
lay hold of opportunities for their souls, and were wont very often
to meet together in private houses for religious purposes. And
such meetings, when appointed, were generally thronged. Those who
were wont to be the vainest and loosest, and those who had been
most disposed to think and speak lightly of vital and experimental
religion, were now generally subject to great awakening. And the
work of conversion was carried on in a most astonishing manner, and
increased more and more. From day to day, for many months together,
might be seen evident instances of sinners brought out of darkness
into marvellous light. In the spring and summer following, the town
seemed to be full of the presence of God; it was never so full of
love, and yet so full of distress, as it was then. It was a time
of joy in families, on account of salvation being brought to them;
parents rejoicing over their children as new-born, and husbands
over their wives, and wives over their husbands. The goings of God
were then seen in his sanctuary, God's day was a delight, and his
tabernacles were amiable. Our public assemblies were then beautiful;
the congregation was alive in God's service, every one eagerly
intent on the public worship, every hearer eager to drink in the
words of the minister as they came from his mouth. The assembly
were, from time to time, in tears, while the word was preached; some
weeping with sorrow and distress, others with joy and love, others
with pity and concern for their neighbors."
In December, 1743, nine years after this blessed work had begun,
Edwards writes, "Ever since the great work of God that was wrought
here about nine years ago, there has been a great, abiding
alteration in this town, in many respects. There has been vastly
more religion kept up in the town, among all sorts of persons, in
religious exercises, and in common conversation, than used to be
before. There has remained a more general seriousness and decency
in attending the public worship. I suppose the town has been in no
measure so free from vice, for any long time together, for these
sixty years, as it has these nine years past. There has also been
an evident alteration with respect to a charitable spirit to the
poor. And though, after that great work of nine years ago, there
has been a very lamentable decay of religious affections, and the
engagedness of people's spirits in religion, yet many societies for
prayer and social religion were all along kept up, and there were
some few instances of awakening and deep concern about the things of
another world, even in the most dead time. In the year 1740, in the
spring, before Mr. Whitefield came to this town, there was a visible
alteration. There was more seriousness and religious conversation,
especially among young people. Those things that were of ill
tendency among them were more forborne; and it was a more frequent
thing for persons to visit their ministers upon soul accounts. In
some particular persons, there appeared a great alteration about
that time. And thus it continued till Mr. Whitefield came to town,
which was about the middle of October following."
And what thought Whitefield himself on his arrival at Northampton?
Let us hear him. "Their pastor's name is Edwards, successor and
grandson to the great Stoddard, whose memory will be always precious
to my soul, and whose books, entitled, "_A Guide to Christ_," and
"_Safety of appearing in Christ's righteousness_," I would recommend
to all. Mr. Edwards is a solid, excellent Christian, but at present
weak in body. I think I may say I have not seen his fellow in all
New England. When I came into his pulpit, I found my heart drawn out
to talk of scarce any thing besides the consolations and privileges
of saints, and the plentiful effusion of the Spirit upon the
hearts of believers. And when I came to remind them of their former
experiences, and how zealous and lively they were at that time, both
minister and people wept much; and the Holy Ghost enabled me to
speak with a great deal of power. In the evening, I gave a word of
exhortation to several who came to Mr. Edwards' house."
On the following morning, "At Mr. Edwards' request, I spoke to his
little children, who were much affected. Preached at Hatfield, five
miles from Northampton, but found myself not much strengthened.
Conversed profitably on the way about the things of God with dear
Mr. Edwards, and preached about four in the afternoon to his
congregation. I began with fear and trembling, feeling but little
power in the morning, but God assisted me. Few dry eyes seemed to be
in the assembly for a considerable time. I had an affecting prospect
in my own heart of the glories of the upper world, and was enabled
to speak of them feelingly to others. I believe many were filled, as
it were, with new wine; and it seemed as if a time of refreshing was
come from the presence of the Lord."
The day following this was the Sabbath. Whitefield tells us in his
journal, that he "felt wonderful satisfaction in being at the house
of Mr. Edwards. He is a son himself, and hath also a daughter of
Abraham for his wife. A sweeter couple I have not yet seen. Their
children were dressed, not in silks and satins, but plain, as
becomes the children of those who in all things ought to be examples
of Christian simplicity. She is a woman adorned with a meek and
quiet spirit, talked feelingly and solidly of the things of God, and
seemed to be such a help-mate for her husband, that she caused me to
renew those prayers, which, for some months, I have put up to God,
that he would be pleased to send me a daughter of Abraham to be my
wife. I find, upon many accounts, it is my duty to marry. Lord, I
desire to have no choice of my own. Thou knowest my circumstances;
thou knowest I only desire to marry in and for thee."
Whitefield "preached this morning, and perceived the melting begin
sooner and rise higher than before. Dear Mr. Edwards wept during
the whole time of exercise. The people were equally, if not more
affected; and my own soul was much lifted up towards God. In the
afternoon the power increased yet more and more. Our Lord seemed to
keep the good wine till the last. I have not seen four such gracious
meetings together since my arrival. My soul was much knit to these
dear people of God; and though I had not time to converse with them
about their experiences, yet one might see they were for the most
part, a gracious, tender people; and though their former fire might
be greatly abated, yet it immediately appeared when stirred up."
Edwards had looked forward to Whitefield's visit to Northampton with
interest, for he felt greatly concerned for his success. He wrote
a week before his arrival to his friend Dr. Wheelock, then a young
minister of twenty-nine, "I think that those that make mention of
the Lord, should now be awakened and encouraged to call upon God,
and not keep silence, nor give him any rest, till he establish and
till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth; and particularly
should be earnest with God, that he would still uphold and succeed
the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, the instrument that it has pleased him
to improve to do such great things for the honor of his name, and
at all times so to guide and direct him under his extraordinary
circumstances, that Satan may not get any advantage of him."
After his visit, Edwards writes, "Mr. Whitefield's sermons were
suitable to the circumstances of the town; containing just
reproofs of our backslidings, and in a most moving and affecting
manner, making use of our great profession and our great mercies
as arguments with us to return to God, from whom we had departed.
Immediately after this, the minds of the people in general appeared
more engaged in religion, showing a greater forwardness to make
it the subject of their conversation, and to meet frequently for
religious purposes, and to embrace all opportunities to hear
the word preached. The revival at first appeared chiefly among
professors, and those who had entertained the hope that they were
in a state of grace, to whom Mr. Whitefield chiefly addressed
himself; but in a very short time, there appeared an awakening and
deep concern among some young persons that looked upon themselves
in a Christless state; and there were some hopeful appearances of
conversion; and some professors were greatly revived. In about a
month or six weeks, there was a great alteration in the town, both
as to the revivals of professors, and awakenings of others."
During this visit of Whitefield to Edwards, some conversation
was held between them, of which, several years afterwards, as it
appears to us, far too much was said. Edwards took an opportunity,
privately, to converse with his friend about _impulses_, and
furnished him with some reasons for thinking that he gave too much
attention to such things. Whitefield did not appear offended,
neither did he seem inclined to converse much on the subject, or to
yield to the reasonings of his friend Edwards. The latter says, "It
is true, that I thought Mr. Whitefield liked me not so well for my
opposing these things; and though he treated me with great kindness,
yet he never made so much of an intimate of me, as of some others."
It seems also, that they conversed on the strong language which
the great evangelist was accustomed to employ as to those whom he
considered to be unconverted, and the duty of the people to forsake
the preaching of ministers whom he did not consider to be renewed
in the spirit of their minds. Whitefield told Edwards also, of the
design he had cherished of bringing over a number of young men from
England, to be ordained by the Tennents, in New Jersey; an object,
however, which he never accomplished.
It appears that after preaching at Northampton twice on the Sabbath,
Whitefield, accompanied by his friend Edwards, rode to the house of
the father of the last-named gentleman, the Rev. Timothy Edwards,
in East Windsor, Connecticut. At this place, as also at Westfield,
Springfield, Suffield, Hartford, Wethersfield, Middletown, and
Wallingford, he preached to large assemblies, generally with his
accustomed animation and power, and with the happy proofs of
success which he so frequently witnessed. During this week also,
he experienced a remarkable deliverance from great danger. He
says, "A little after I left Springfield, my horse, coming over a
broken bridge, threw me over his head, directly upon my nose. The
fall stunned me for a while. My mouth was full of dust, I bled a
little, but falling upon soft sand, got not much damage. After
I had recovered myself, and mounted my horse, God so filled me
with a sense of his sovereign, distinguishing love, and my own
unworthiness, that my eyes gushed out with tears; but they were all
tears of love. Oh, how did I want to sink before the high and lofty
One who inhabiteth eternity!"
During this week also, on his way to Suffield, he met with a
minister who said, "It was not absolutely necessary for a gospel
minister, that he should be converted;" meaning, no doubt, that
though conversion was necessary to his salvation, it was not
indispensable to his ministerial character and usefulness. This gave
Whitefield a subject. "I insisted much in my discourse upon the
doctrine of the new birth, and also the necessity of a minister's
being converted, before he could preach Christ aright. The word
came with great power, and a great impression was made upon the
people in all parts of the assembly. Many ministers were present. I
did not spare them. Most of them thanked me for my plain dealing;
but one was offended; and so would more of his stamp be, if I were
to continue longer in New England. For unconverted ministers are
the bane of the Christian church; and though I honor the memory of
that great and good man Mr. Stoddard, yet I think he is much to
be blamed for endeavoring to prove that unconverted men might be
admitted into the ministry. How he has handled the controversy, I
know not. I think no solid arguments can be brought to defend such a
cause. A sermon lately published by Mr. Gilbert Tennent, entitled,
'_The Danger of an Unconverted Ministry_,' I think unanswerable.
Tracy truly says, that Stoddard, in his '_Appeal to the Learned_,'
assumes that an unconverted minister is bound to continue in the
performance of ministerial duties, and infers that unconverted men
may therefore be admitted to the church. This opinion at one period
extensively prevailed, though all held it desirable that a minister
should be a converted man. By his attacks on this opinion, and
especially by thus endorsing Tennent's Nottingham sermon, Whitefield
gave great offence."
On Wednesday afternoon, he preached at East Windsor, and spent
the night with Mr. Edwards, senior, "I believe," he says, "a true
disciple and minister of the Lord Jesus Christ. After exercise, we
supped at the house of old Mr. Edwards. His wife was as aged, I
believe, as himself, and I fancied that I was sitting in the house
of a Zacharias and Elisabeth." On the following day, he "preached to
many thousands, and with much freedom and power," at Hartford in the
morning, and at Wethersfield in the afternoon. Here he met Messrs.
Wheelock and Pomeroy, "two young, faithful, and zealous ministers
of Jesus Christ." From this place he had intended to go eastward
as far as Plymouth, and return by another route to Providence, and
notice had been given in the newspapers of about twenty sermons
which he proposed to preach at the times and places specified.
He was afterwards blamed for making these appointments without
first consulting the pastors of the several churches; thus giving
countenance, it was said, to the practice of itinerants intruding
into other men's parishes without their consent. The proceeding
was certainly somewhat irregular, but Whitefield was not much to
be blamed for it. The details were settled, and the publication
made, by men in whose judgment and knowledge of the customs of
the country he had a right to confide; and the appointments
were believed, in all cases, and doubtless known in some, to be
agreeable to the parties concerned. At Wethersfield, however, the
evangelist ascertained the necessity of his hastening on to New
York, and immediately, therefore, published a note recalling these
appointments.
On Friday, October 24, Whitefield arrived at New Haven, and was
entertained at the house of Mr. James Pierpont, the brother-in-law
of Mr. Edwards, and of Mr. Noyes, the minister of the First
Congregational church. The Legislature of the colony being in
session, he remained till after the Lord's day; and "had the
pleasure of seeing numbers daily impressed," under his ministrations
in the old polygonal meeting-house. Several ministers of the
vicinity visited him, "with whose pious conversation he was much
refreshed." Good old Governor Tallcott, on whom with due politeness
he waited to pay his respects, said to him, "Thanks be to God for
such refreshings in our way to heaven." Among others who heard his
glowing appeals to the congregations that listened to him during
this visit, was young Samuel Hopkins, still well known as an eminent
divine. Hopkins was now nineteen, and was a student at college; his
biographer tells us, that "he was much interested in the man, and
much impressed by his solemn warnings."
The testimony of Hopkins himself may here be introduced. He says,
speaking of Whitefield, "The attention of the people in general was
greatly awakened upon hearing the fame of him, that there was a
remarkable preacher from England travelling through the country. The
people flocked to hear him when he came to New Haven. Some travelled
twenty miles out of the country to hear him. The assemblies were
crowded, and remarkably attentive; people appeared generally to
approve, and their conversation turned chiefly upon him and his
preaching. Some disapproved of several things, which occasioned
considerable disputes. I heard him when he preached in public, and
when he expounded in private in the evening, and highly approved of
him, and was impressed by what he said in public and in private.
He preached against mixed dancing and the frolicking of males
and females together, which practice was then very common in New
England. This offended some, especially young people. But I remember
I justified him in this in my own mind, and in conversation with
those who were disposed to condemn him. This was in October, 1740,
when I had entered on my last year in college."
On this visit, Whitefield dined with the Rev. Mr. Clap, the rector
of the college. Of the college he says, "It is about one-third part
as big as Cambridge. It has one rector, three tutors, and about a
hundred students. But I hear of no remarkable concern among them
concerning religion." Mr. Clap, it is well known, afterwards became
the public opponent of Whitefield; and it would seem that his
dislike to him commenced with this first interview; for he "spoke
very closely to the students, and showed the dreadful consequences
of an unconverted ministry." In his journal of the day he says, "O
that God may quicken ministers! O that the Lord may make them a
flaming fire!" On the two days following, he preached at Milford,
Stratford, and Fairfield, on his way to New York. On Wednesday, when
at Stamford, he thus speaks of New England and his labors in it:
"I give God thanks for sending me to New England. I have now had
an opportunity of seeing the greatest and most populous parts of
it; and take it all together, it certainly on many accounts exceeds
all other provinces of America, and for the establishment of
religion, perhaps all other parts of the world. Never, surely, was
so large a spot of ground settled in such a manner, in so short a
space of one hundred years. The towns all through Connecticut and
eastwards towards York in the province of Massachusetts, [Maine,]
near the river-side, are large, well peopled, and exceedingly
pleasant to travel through. Every five miles, or perhaps less,
you have a meeting-house, and I believe there is no such a thing
as a pluralist, or non-resident minister in both provinces. Many,
nay, most that preach, I fear do not experimentally know Christ;
yet I cannot see much worldly advantage to tempt them to take upon
them the sacred function. Few country ministers, as I have been
informed, have sufficient allowed them in money to maintain a
family. God has remarkably, in sundry times and in divers manners,
poured out his Spirit in several parts of both provinces; and it
often refreshes my soul to hear of the faith of the good forefathers
who first settled in these parts. Notwithstanding they had their
foibles, surely they were a set of righteous men. They certainly
followed our Lord's rule, sought first the kingdom of God and his
righteousness; and behold, all other things God added unto them.
Their seed are now blessed, in temporal things especially, and
notwithstanding the rising generation seem to be settled on their
lees, yet I believe the Lord hath more than seven thousand who have
not bowed the knee to Baal. The ministers and people of Connecticut
seem to be more simple than those that live near Boston, especially
in those parts where I went. But I think the ministers' preaching
almost universally by notes, is a certain mark they have in a great
measure lost the old spirit of preaching. For though all are not to
be condemned that use notes, yet it is a sad symptom of the decay
of vital religion when reading sermons becomes fashionable, where
extempore preaching did once almost universally prevail. As for
the universities, I believe it may be said, their light is become
darkness, darkness that may be felt, and is complained of by the
most godly ministers. I pray God these fountains may be purified,
and send forth pure streams to water the cities of our God....
As for the civil government of New England, it seems to be well
regulated, and I think, at opening all their courts, either the
judge or a minister begins with a prayer. Family worship, I believe,
is generally kept up. The negroes I think better used, both in soul
and body, than in any other province I have yet seen. In short, I
like New England exceedingly well; and when a spirit of reformation
revives, it certainly will prevail here more than in other places,
because they are simple in their worship, less corrupt in their
principles, and consequently easier to be brought over to the form
of sound words, into which so many of their pious ancestors were
delivered. Send forth, O Lord, thy light and thy truth, and for
thine infinite mercy's sake, show thou hast a peculiar delight in
these habitable parts of the earth. Amen, Lord Jesus, amen, and
amen."
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] 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."
[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."
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.