of Burlington, so famed for his admiration of the works of Inigo
Jones, and for his architectural expenditure; George Bubb Dodington,
afterwards Lord Melcombe, a friend and favourite of the Prince of Wales,
and whose costly mansion was often crowded with literary men; George
Augustus Selwyn, an eccentric wit, to whom nearly all the current
_bon-mots_ of the day were attributed; the Earl of Holderness; Lord
(afterwards Marquess) Townshend, named George, after his godfather,
George the First, a distinguished general in the army, member of
Parliament for Norfolk, and ultimately a field-marshal. Charles
Townshend, now a young man of twenty-three, whom Burke described as
“the delight and ornament of the House of Commons, and the charm of
every private society he honoured with his presence;” Lord St. John,
half-brother to Lord Bolingbroke; the Earl of Aberdeen; the Earl of
Lauderdale; the Earl of Hyndford, Envoy Extraordinary to the King of
Prussia; the Marquis of Tweeddale, Secretary of State for Scotland;
George, afterwards, Lord Lyttelton, at one time member for Okehampton,
and secretary of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and who had recently
published his well-known book, “Observations on the Conversion of
St. Paul;” William Pitt, the distinguished first Earl of Chatham; Lord
North, in his twenty-first year, afterwards First Lord of the Treasury,
and ultimately Earl of Guildford; Evelyn, Duke of Kingston; Viscount
Trentham (a title borne by the Duke of Sutherland); the Earl of March
(one of the titles of the Duke of Richmond); the Earl of Haddington;
Edward Hussey, who married a daughter of the Duke of Montagu, and was
created Earl of Beaulieu; Hume Campbell, afterwards created Baron Hume;
the Earl of Sandwich, subsequently ambassador to the court of Spain,
First Lord of the Admiralty, and Secretary of State for the Home
Department; and Lord Bolingbroke, the friend of the Pretender, a man
of great ability,――a statesman, a philosopher, and an infidel.
Gillies adds to this long list the name of David Hume, who had recently
returned from Italy in great chagrin, because the people of England
“entirely overlooked and neglected” his “Inquiry concerning Human
Understanding.” It is said that Hume considered Whitefield the most
ingenious preacher he ever listened to, and that twenty miles were not
too far to go to hear him. “Once,” said the great infidel, “Whitefield
addressed his audience thus: ‘The attendant angel is about to leave us,
and ascend to heaven. Shall he ascend and not bear with him the news
of one sinner reclaimed from the error of his way?’ And, then, stamping
with his foot, and lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, he cried
aloud, ‘Stop, Gabriel, stop, ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet
carry with you the tidings of one sinner being saved.’ This address
surpassed anything I ever saw or heard in any other preacher.”
The Earl of Chesterfield and the Earl of Bath have been previously
noticed as being among Whitefield’s hearers. One more name must be
mentioned. Lady Townshend was one of Whitefield’s earliest admirers.
Her wit and eccentricities were notorious. Of course she was a member
of the Church of England; but Horace Walpole tells a story of George
Selwyn detecting her crossing herself and praying before the altar of
a popish chapel. Alternately, she liked and disliked Whitefield. “She
certainly means,” said Walpole, “to go armed with every viaticum――the
Church of England in one hand, Methodism in the other, and the Host
in her mouth.”[221] Whitefield had the moral courage to tackle even
this eccentric lady; and, towards the close of 1748, wrote to her as
follows:――
“Yesterday, good Lady Huntingdon informed me that your ladyship
was ill. Had I judged it proper, I would have waited upon your
ladyship this morning; but I was cautious of intrusion. My
heart’s desire and prayer to God is, that this sickness be not
unto death, but to His glory, and the present and eternal good
of your precious and immortal soul. O that from a spiritual
abiding sense of the vanity of all created good, you may cry
out,――
‘Begone, vain world, my heart resign,
For I must be no longer thine:
A nobler, a diviner guest
Now claims possession of my breast.’
Then, and not till then, will your ladyship with cheerfulness
wait for the approach of death. It is a true and living faith
in the Son of God that can alone bring present peace, and lay
a solid foundation for future and eternal comfort. I cannot
wish your ladyship anything greater, anything more noble, than
a large share of this precious faith. When, like Noah’s dove, we
have been wandering about in a fruitless search after happiness,
and have found no rest for the sole of our feet, the glorious
Redeemer is ready to reach out His hand and receive us into
His ark. This hand, honoured madam, He is reaching out to you.
May you be constrained to give your heart entirely to Him, and
thereby enter into that rest which remains for the happy, though
despised, people of God.”
The foregoing were _some_, not all, of Whitefield’s aristocratic
hearers. Others will be mentioned hereafter. The gatherings, in Chelsea
and in North Audley Street, were profoundly interesting spectacles;
and never, till the day of judgment, when all secrets will be unfolded,
will it be ascertained to what extent the preaching of the youthful
Whitefield affected the policy of some of England’s greatest statesmen,
and moulded the character of some of its highest aristocratic families.
Who will venture to deny that, in some of these families, the effects
of Whitefield’s ministry is felt to the present day? Let us pursue his
history.
Whitefield continued his correspondence with Hervey and Stonehouse. On
January 13, 1749, he wrote to the former as follows:――
“The prospect of doing good to the rich, who attend the house of
good Lady Huntingdon, is very encouraging. I preach there twice
a week, and yesterday Lord Bolingbroke was one of my auditors.
His lordship was pleased to express very great satisfaction. Who
knows what God may do? He can never work by a meaner instrument.
I want humility, I want thankfulness, I want a heart continually
flaming with the love of God.
“I thank you for your kind invitation to your house and pulpit.
I would not bring you or any of my friends into difficulties,
for owning poor, unworthy, hell-deserving me; but, if Providence
should give me a clear call, I shall be glad to come your way.
I rejoice in the prospect of having some ministers in our church
pulpits who dare own a crucified Redeemer. I hope the time will
come when many of the priests will be obedient to the word.”
It is a humiliating fact, that Whitefield, an ordained clergyman, and
under no official censure, was not able to avail himself of Hervey’s
invitation without the probability of involving his gentle friend in
trouble; and it is a beautiful trait in Whitefield’s character, that,
however great the gratification of preaching in a church might be, he
was unwilling to indulge himself in such a pleasure at the expense of
any of his friends.
Dr. Stonehouse occasioned Whitefield sorrow and anxiety. The Doctor
was a sincere, earnest, and devout Christian, but he was afraid of
being branded as a Methodist; and, for the same reason, he was afraid
of being known as one of Whitefield’s friends. Hence the following,
written four days after the date of the letter just quoted:――
“The way of duty is the way of safety. Our Lord requires of us
to confess Him in His gospel members and ministers. To be afraid
of publicly owning, associating with, and strengthening the
hearts and hands of the latter, especially when they are set
for the defence of the gospel, is, in my opinion, very offensive
in His sight, and can only proceed from a want of more love
to Him and His people. You say, ‘We are most of us too warm;’
but I hope you do not think that being ashamed of any of your
Lord’s ministers is an instance of it. Thanks be to God! that
Mr. Hervey seems, as you express it, ‘to court the enmity of
mankind.’ It is an error on the right side. Better so than to
be afraid of it. The Lord never threatened to spew any church
out of His mouth for being too hot; but, for being neither hot
nor cold, He has. It is too true, my dear sir, ‘we have but
few faithful ministers;’ but is keeping at a distance from one
another the way to strengthen their interest? By no means. To
tell you my whole mind, I do not believe God will bless either
you or your friends, to any considerable degree, till you are
more delivered from the fear of man. Alas! how were you bowed
down with it, when I saw you last! And your letter bespeaks you
yet a slave to it. O my brother, deal faithfully with yourself,
and you will find a love of the world, and a fear of not
providing for your children, have gotten too much hold of your
heart. Do not mistake me. I would not have you throw yourself
into flames. I would only have you act a consistent part, and
not, for fear of a little contempt, be ashamed of owning the
ministers of Christ. After all, think not, my dear sir, that I
am pleading my own cause. You are not in danger of seeing me at
Northampton. I only take this occasion of saying a word or two
to your heart. You will not be offended, as it proceeds from
love. I salute Mr. Hervey, and dear Doctor Doddridge, most
cordially.”
Towards the end of January, Whitefield set out, from London, to the
west of England, where he spent the next five weeks. By appointment,
he and Howell Harris held an “Association” at Gloucester,[222] where,
he says, “affairs turned out better than expectation.” From Gloucester,
he proceeded to Bristol, where he employed the next ten days.
Whitefield was singularly devoid of envy. On leaving London, his
place at Lady Huntingdon’s was occupied by his friend Wesley,[223]
whose preaching secured her ladyship’s approval. Robert Cruttenden
also introduced the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D.,[224] a young man of
twenty-eight, who, at this time, was the officiating minister of the
Independent Church at Haberdashers’ Hall. Cruttenden, in a letter to
Whitefield, told him that their two hours’ interview with the Countess
had been exceedingly pleasant.[225] With his large heart, Whitefield
was delighted by such intelligence as this, and wrote to her ladyship
as follows:――
“BRISTOL, _February 1, 1749_.
“I am glad your ladyship approves of Mr. Wesley’s conduct,
and that he has preached at your ladyship’s. The language of
my heart is, ‘Lord, send by whom Thou wilt send, only convert
some of the mighty and noble, for Thy mercy’s sake!’ Then I care
not if I am heard of no more. I am, also, glad your ladyship
approves of Mr. Gibbons. He is, I think, a worthy man. By taking
this method, you will have an opportunity of conversing with the
best of all parties, without being a bigot, and too strenuously
attached to any. Surely, in this, your ladyship is directed
from above. The blessed Jesus cares for His people of all
denominations. He is gathering His elect out of all. Happy
they who, with a disinterested view, take in the whole church
militant, and, in spite of narrow-hearted bigots, breathe an
undissembled catholic spirit towards all.”
In the same month, Lady Huntingdon wrote to Whitefield a cheering
account of the death of one of his noble converts:――
“My last,” says she, “mentioned the sudden illness of my Lord
St. John. A few days after, her ladyship wrote to me in great
alarm, and begged me to send some pious clergyman to her lord.
Mr. Bateman went. His lordship enquired for you, to whom he said
he was deeply indebted. His last words to Mr. Bateman were: ‘To
God I commit myself. I feel how unworthy I am; but Jesus Christ
died to save sinners; and the prayer of my heart now is, God be
merciful to me a sinner!’ His lordship breathed his last about
an hour after Mr. Bateman left. This, my good friend, is the
firstfruits of that plenteous harvest, which, I trust, the great
Husbandman will yet reap amongst the nobility of our land. Thus
the great Lord of the harvest has put honour on your ministry.
My Lord Bolingbroke was much struck with his brother’s language
in his last moments. O that the obdurate heart of this desperate
infidel may yet be shaken to its very centre! May his eyes be
opened by the illuminating influence of Divine truth! May the
Lord Jesus be revealed to his heart as the hope of glory and
immortal bliss hereafter! I tremble for his destiny. He is a
singularly awful character.”[226]
Whitefield’s preaching in Bristol was again successful.
“The power of the Lord,” he writes, “attended the word, as in
days of old, and several persons, who never heard me before,
were brought under great awakenings.”[227]
On February 8th, he proceeded to Exeter, where he found the Society
affairs in great confusion; but, winter though it was, and though his
health was far from being vigorous, he began to preach in the open
air. Large crowds assembled; and, he says, “I trust real good was
done.”[228] He also preached at Bovey-Tracey, where he “found several
poor simple souls;” and at Marychurch, where there were about a score
of converted people who had been greatly persecuted. At Kingsbridge,
at eight o’clock at night, he found a thousand people assembled in the
street, and at once commenced preaching, from the words, “I must work
the works of Him that sent me while it is day; the night cometh, when
no man can work.” He writes:――
“I preached in the street. The moon shone. All were quiet; and,
I hope, some began to think of working out their salvation with
fear and trembling. The next morning, I preached again. Four
ministers attended. Our Lord was pleased to make it a fine
season. I had the pleasure of hearing, that, by two or three
discourses preached at this place about five years ago, many
souls were awakened. One young man, then called, has become a
preacher. He was in a tree, partly to ridicule me. I spoke to
him to imitate Zaccheus, and come down and receive the Lord
Jesus. The word was backed with power. He heard, came down,
believed, and now adorns the gospel.”[229]
On February 15, Whitefield arrived at Plymouth,[230] being escorted,
the last ten miles of his journey, by a cavalcade of his “spiritual
children,” who had gone out to meet him. He found “many hundreds, in
the tabernacle, waiting to hear the word;” and, though the hour was
late, he immediately commenced preaching. Here he remained a week. The
following was addressed to Lady Huntingdon:――
“About two thousand attend every night. Last Sunday evening, in
the field, there were above five thousand hearers. Affairs bear
a promising aspect. I hear much good has been done at Bristol.
Everywhere, fresh doors are opening, and people flock from all
quarters. Prejudices subside, and strong impressions are made on
many souls. I have not been so well, for so long a season, for
many years, as I have been since I left London: a proof, I think,
that the Lord calls me into the fields.”
Whilst at Plymouth, Whitefield wrote several letters, full of interest,
but too long for insertion here. To Lady Betty Germain, he said:――
“Of the honourable women, ere long, I trust there will be not
a few who will dare to be singularly good, and will confess the
blessed Jesus before men. O with what a holy contempt may the
poor despised believer look down on those who are yet immersed
in the pleasures of sense, and, amidst all the refinements of
their unassisted, unenlightened reason, continue slaves to their
own lusts and passions! Happy, thrice happy, they who begin
to experience what it is to be redeemed from this present evil
world! You, honoured madam, I trust, are one of this happy
number.”
To the Countess of Delitz, he wrote:――
“Your ladyship’s answering my poor scrawl was an honour I did
not expect. Welcome, thrice welcome, honoured madam, into the
world of new creatures! O what a scene of happiness lies before
you! Your frames, my lady, like the moon, will wax and wane;
but the Lord Jesus will remain your faithful friend. You seem
to have the right point in view, to get the constant witness and
indwelling of the Spirit of God in your heart. This the Redeemer
has purchased for you. Of this, He has given your ladyship a
taste. O that your honoured sister may go hand in hand with you!
Wherefore doth she doubt?”
It has been previously stated that, on Whitefield’s arrival at Bermudas,
he was warmly welcomed by the Church clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Holiday.
Unfortunately, Mr. Holiday’s friendship was shortlived. Hence the
following:――
“PLYMOUTH, _February 20, 1749_.
“I did not think Mr. Holiday’s friendship would hold long. It
will be time enough for me to speak to him, when I see Bermudas
again, which I propose doing as soon as possible. Meanwhile,
I would observe that, if I am a Roman Catholic, the pope must
have given me a very large dispensation. Surely, Mr. Holiday
has acted like one, to pretend so much friendship, and yet
have nothing of it in his heart. But thus it must be. We must
be tried in every way. As for any secrets that I told him, he
is very welcome to reveal them. You know me too well to judge
I have many secrets. May the secret of the Lord be with me!
and then I care not if there was a window in my heart for all
mankind to see the uprightness of my intentions.
“I am now in the west, and have begun to take the field. Great
multitudes flock to hear. I find it is a trial, to be thus
divided between the work on this and the other side of the water.
I am convinced I have done right in coming over now; but I keep
myself quite disengaged, that I may be free to leave England the
latter end of the summer, if the Lord is pleased to make my way
clear. I long to have Bethesda a foundation for the Lord Jesus.
If I can procure a proper person, of good literature, who will
be content to stay two or three years, something may be done.”
Before his departure from Plymouth, Whitefield preached at Tavistock;
where, he says, “I was rudely treated; for, whilst I was praying, some
of the baser sort brought a bull and dogs, and disturbed us much; but
I hope good was done.”
On reaching Exeter, he wrote to his friend Robert Cruttenden, once a
minister of Christ, then an infidel, and now re-converted:――
“EXETER, _February 25, 1749_.
“I suppose you will be pleased that I am thus far in my return
to London. O my friend, my friend, I come with fear and
trembling. To speak to the rich and great, so as to win them to
the blessed Jesus, is indeed a task. But, wherefore do we fear?
We can do all things through Christ strengthening us. But why
does Mr. Cruttenden think it strange that no one can be found to
help me in the country? Is it not more strange that you should
lie supine, burying your talents in a napkin, complaining you
have nothing to do, and yet souls everywhere are perishing about
you for lack of knowledge? Why do you not preach or print? At
least, why do you not help me, or somebody or another, in a more
public way? You are in the decline of life, and if you do not
soon reassume the place, you are now qualified for, you may lose
the opportunity for ever. I write this in great seriousness. May
the Lord give you no rest, till you lift up your voice like a
trumpet! Up, and be doing; and the Lord will be with you.”
Whitefield arrived in London at the beginning of the month of March.
On his way, at Bristol, he and Charles Wesley met. Charles was to be
married to Miss Gwynne a month afterwards, and wrote: “March 3. I met
George Whitefield, and made him quite happy by acquainting him with
my design.”[231] Whitefield spent a month in London, and was fully
occupied, not only with preaching in the Tabernacle, and in the house
of Lady Huntingdon, but with work that was not at all congenial to him.
At the end of the year 1748, the Rev. George White, the notorious
clergyman of Colne, in Lancashire, had published his infamous “Sermon
against the Methodists.” In a footnote, the fuming author, speaking of
Whitefield and Wesley, said:――
“These officious haranguers cozen a handsome subsistence out
of their irregular expeditions. No satisfactory account has
been given us of Mr. Whitefield’s disbursements in Georgia; and,
I am afraid, by his late modest insinuations, in or about the
Highlands of Scotland, of the want of £500 more, he thinks the
nation is become more and more foolish, and within the reach of
his further impositions. It appears, from many probable accounts,
that Mr. Wesley has, in reality, a better income than most of
our bishops, though, now and then, (no great wonder,) it costs
him some little pains to escape certain rough compliments.”[232]
This was a false, libellous attack on Whitefield’s honesty; and
Grimshaw, of Haworth, and Benjamin Ingham wished him to answer it.
His reply to Grimshaw was as follows:――
“LONDON, _March 17, 1749_.
“MY DEAR BROTHER,――What a blessed thing it is that we can write
to, when we cannot see one another! By this means we increase
our joys, and lessen our sorrows, and, as it were, exchange
hearts.
“Thanks be to the Lord Jesus, that the work flourishes with you!
I am glad your children grow so fast; they become fathers too
soon; I wish some may not prove dwarfs at last. A word to the
wise is sufficient. I have always found awakening times like
spring times; many blossoms, but not always so much fruit. But
go on, my dear man, and, in the strength of the Lord, you shall
do valiantly. I long to be your way; but I suppose it will be
two months first.
“Pray tell my dear Mr. Ingham that I cannot now answer the
Preston[233] letter, being engaged in answering a virulent
pamphlet, entitled, ‘The Enthusiasm of the Methodists and
Papists compared,’ supposed to be done by the Bishop of Exeter.
Thus it must be. If we will be temple builders, we must have
the temple builders’ lot; I mean, hold a sword in one hand,
and a trowel in the other. The Lord make us faithful Nehemiahs,
for we have many Sanballats to deal with! But, wherefore should
we fear? If Christ be for us, who can be against us? ‘_Nil
desperandum, Christo duce_,’ is the Christian’s motto. Remember
me, in the kindest manner, to honest-hearted Mr. Ingham, and
tell him that, in a post or two, I hope he will hear from me.”
What Whitefield, for want of time, could not undertake was accomplished
by the redoubtable Grimshaw, who, in an 8vo. pamphlet of 98 pages,
cudgelled White almost unmercifully.[234]
Whitefield was answering Lavington. Notwithstanding the recantation
extorted from him by the Countess of Huntingdon, only six months before,
the irritable prelate could neither forget nor forgive the publication
of the fictitious charge that has been already mentioned; and now
he vented his anger by issuing anonymously the first part of “The
Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared.” (8vo. 82 pp.) No
good end would be served by lengthened quotations from this scolding
pamphlet. The Bishop of Exeter was too angry to be polite. Suffice it
to say, that, so far as Whitefield is concerned, Lavington’s attacks
are founded upon incautious and improper expressions in Whitefield’s
publications――expressions most of which Whitefield himself had
publicly lamented and withdrawn, or modified. The pith of the bishop’s
pamphlet is contained in his last paragraph but one. The _italics_ in
the following quotations are his lordship’s own:――
“This _new dispensation_ is a _composition_ of _enthusiasm_,
_superstition_, and _imposture_. When the blood and spirits
run _high_, inflaming the brain and imagination, it is most
properly _enthusiasm_, which is _religion run mad_; when _low
and dejected_, causing groundless terrors, or the placing of the
_great duty of man_ in little observances, it is _superstition_,
which is _religion scared out of its senses_; when any
fraudulent dealings are made use of, and any wrong projects
carried on under the mask of piety, it is _imposture_, and may
be termed religion turned _hypocrite_.”
The title of Whitefield’s answer was as follows: “Some Remarks on a
Pamphlet, entitled, ‘The Enthusiasm of Methodists and Papists compared;’
wherein several mistakes in some parts of his past writings and conduct
are acknowledged, and his present sentiments concerning the Methodists
explained. In a letter to the Author. By George Whitefield, late of
Pembroke College, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of
Huntingdon. ‘Out of the eater came forth meat’ (Judges xiv. 4). London:
printed by W. Strahan, 1749.” (8vo. 48 pp.)
The title-page indicates the contents of Whitefield’s pamphlet. He
honestly acknowledges his errors by inserting the letter already
given, under the date of “June 24, 1748,” and which, with very
little alteration, had been published in Scotland, before Lavington’s
malignant ridicule had been committed to the press. Three brief
extracts, from Whitefield’s “Remarks,” will be enough. In reply to
the accusation of claiming to be inspired and infallible, Whitefield
says:――
“No, sir, my mistakes have been too many, and my blunders too
frequent, to make me set up for _infallibility_. I came soon
into the world; I have carried high sail, whilst running through
a whole torrent of popularity and contempt; and, by this means,
I have sometimes been in danger of oversetting; but many and
frequent as my mistakes have been, or may be, as soon as I am
_made sensible of them_, they shall be _publicly acknowledged
and retracted_.”
Again, having stated what are the doctrines of the Methodists,
Whitefield writes:――