had some glorious earnests of future blessings. My constant
work now is preaching about fifteen times a week. This, with a
weak appetite, want of rest, and much care lying upon my mind,
enfeebles me. But the joy of the Lord is my strength; and my
greatest grief is, that I can do no more for Him, who has done
and suffered so much for me.”
The Rev. Henry Venn was now one of the most active clergymen of the
Church of England. Besides being curate of Clapham, he held three
lectureships in the city. His _regular_ duties consisted of a full
service at Clapham on the Sunday morning; a sermon, in the afternoon,
at St. Alban’s, Wood Street; and another, in the evening, at St.
Swithin’s, London-stone. On Tuesday morning, a sermon at St. Swithin’s;
on Wednesday morning, at seven o’clock, at St. Antholin’s; and, on
Thursday evening, at Clapham.[414] Whitefield had become acquainted
with him, and wrote to Hervey, at Weston-Favel, as follows:――
“London, December 9, 1756. I hope that my dear friend prospers
both in soul and body. Conviction and conversion work goes on
here. Lord, keep us from tares! All is well at Clapham. I have
expounded there twice. God has met with us in our new building.”
To the Rev. Aaron Burr, the President of New Jersey College, for
whom he had done his best to obtain a D.D. degree from the Edinburgh
University, Whitefield wrote:――
“London, December 9, 1756. Night and day, our hands are lifted
up for dear America; but, I fear, we are to be brought into
far greater extremity, both at home and abroad, ere deliverance
comes. I am sorry you have not your degree. It is ready, if
testimonials were sent from those who know you. This not being
done, it looks as though the character given you on this side
the water was not justly founded. I wish you would write oftener.
How glad would I be to see America, but my way is hedged up.
The awakening both in town and country continues. More ministers
are coming out to preach the gospel. I am strengthened to preach
fourteen times a week, and I trust it is not in vain.”
“London, December 15, 1756. Last Sunday, in the new chapel,
there was a wonderful stirring among the dry bones. Some great
people came, and begged they might have a constant seat: an
earnest this, I believe, of more good things to come.”
“London, December 30, 1756. God is doing wonders in the new
chapel. Hundreds went away last Sunday morning, who could not
come in. On Christmas Day, and last Tuesday night (the first
time of burning candles), the power of the Lord was present,
both to wound and to heal. A neighbouring doctor has baptized
the place, calling it ‘Whitefield’s Soul-Trap.’ I pray that
it may be a _soul-trap_ indeed, to many wandering sinners.
Abundance of people round about, I hear, are much struck. O
for humility! O for gratitude! O for faith! Wherefore should I
doubt? Surely Jesus will carry me through, and help me to pay
the workmen.”
In such a spirit, Whitefield ended another year of his eventful life.
He was now attracting to his meeting-house some of the “_great people_”
of the western parts of the metropolis; and, yet, his preaching was as
faithful as ever. Let the following serve as a specimen:――
“Woe unto you, who are at ease in Zion, and, instead of staying
to be tempted by the devil, by idleness, self-indulgence, and
making continual provision for the flesh even tempt the devil
to tempt you! Woe unto you, who, not content with sinning
yourselves, turn factors for hell, and make a trade of tempting
others to sin! Woe unto you, who either deny Divine revelation,
or never use it, but to serve a bad turn! Woe unto you, who
sell your consciences, and pawn your souls, for a little worldly
wealth or honour! Woe unto you, who climb up to high places, in
Church or State, by corruption, bribery, extortion, cringing,
flattery, or bowing down to, and soothing the vices of those
by whom you expect to rise! Woe unto you! for, whether you will
own the relation or not, you are of your father the devil; for
the works of your father you do. I tremble for you. How can you
escape the damnation of hell?”[415]
Such preaching was needed in the days of Whitefield, and it is equally
needed now. For lack of it, thousands, even in churches and chapels,
are dreaming elysian dreams, while in the utmost danger of perishing.
In more respects than one, the year 1756 was a year of turmoil; but
the Methodists were not without their friends. One pamphlet, published
during the year, undesignedly in Whitefield’s favour, had the following
inordinately long title: “The Great Secret Disclosed; or an Infallible
Salve for Opening the Eyes of all such as the God of this World has
Blinded; by once applying which, the Person will be able to see the
true cause why Religion decays amongst us, and why Methodism started
up, and daily increases; and, with it, all that train of Vice and
Immorality so common to be met with in every corner of the Nation;
with an effectual method for bringing about a Reformation by destroying
Methodism.” (8vo. 52 pp.)
The title shews that the pamphlet was not _intended_ to promote the
interests of Methodism. Like Balaam, the writer purposed to curse his
enemies, and, yet, he blessed them. Two extracts must suffice.
“It is generally reported that Mr. Whitefield has a hundred
thousand followers, most of whom, before his preaching, were the
vilest of mankind, but are now sober and religious persons, good
members of society, and good subjects of the king. It is also
said that Mr. Wesley’s preaching has had as good an effect on
the like numbers; most of whom have been brought to be members
of the Church of England; namely, to baptize their children,
and to receive the sacrament there: for, as he and his brother
preach only betimes in a morning and in the evening, and order
their followers to go, the other parts of the day, to their
respective places of worship; and, as most of them went to
no place of worship before, and as such always looked upon
themselves as Church people, they go, forenoon and afternoon,
to its services. Thus, instead of weakening the Church, by
taking members from it, the Methodists have strengthened it, by
adding thousands of members to it; for the Methodists, properly
speaking, are no Church, having no ordinances administered among
them.[416]
“Mr. Whitefield seems to have been the first whom the clergy of
a whole nation agreed to prevent preaching, without ever proving
that he had broken either the ecclesiastical, moral, or national
law. His chief crime was that he appeared to be in earnest both
in reading prayers and preaching.”
The author’s “effectual method” to destroy Methodism was: 1. That
the clergy should “treat the Methodists as Church members, and not
molest them in performing the duties of religion;” and, 2. They should
“out-pray and preach them.”
Another pamphlet, of the same Balaam-like character, was published in
1756, with the title, “Methodism Displayed, and Enthusiasm Detected;
intended as an Antidote against, and a Preservative from, the delusive
Principles and unscriptural Doctrines of a Modern _Sett_ of seducing
Preachers; and as a Defence of our Regular and Orthodox Clergy, from
their unjust Reflections.” (8vo. 36 pp.)
This was an enigmatical production. After giving to the “_Modern Sett
of seducing Preachers_” a number of hard names, the author writes as
follows:――
“If for a steady adherence and firm attachment to the doctrines
of the Church of England I am accounted a _Methodist_, I am
content. May I live and die a Church of England _Methodist_!
A _Methodist_! Why, really it is a simple and inoffensive name,
and I do not see much reason to be ashamed of it. The world
does not usually fix this apellation upon persons of an openly
wicked and scandalously sinful life. A gaming, pleasure-taking,
playhouse-frequenting person, who lives in debauchery and excess
of drinking, is sure to escape the name of _Methodist_. Nor
has a minister that name given him, who, notwithstanding his
solemn declarations, subscriptions, and oaths to assent to and
to abide by the Articles of our Church, preaches contrary to
them,――denies the _fall of man_,――_original sin_,――contends for
justification by works, instead of by faith,――is an enemy to
the doctrine of imputed righteousness,――from whose sermons
you seldom hear the name of Jesus, or the agency and influence
of the Holy Spirit, unless utterly to deny, inveigh against,
and explode all spiritual _inspiration_ and inward feelings:
these and such-like preachers escape from the imputation of
_Methodism_. So, again, that decent, regular person, who, freed
from the _irksome care of souls_, comfortably lolls in his
chariot, thinks it is time for him to have done with praying and
preaching, and, therefore, has _left off trade_, and is content
with a bare £1000 per annum Church preferment; he, who loves
the Church, rails at your popular, mob-driving preachers, and
is sure they would not take half the pains they do, if views of
money-getting were not at the bottom,――this sort of gentleman
stands very clear of being deemed a Methodist.”
Another extract must be given. The picture it draws was not a
caricature.
“Take knowledge of that _thing_. He is parson of St――――’s church.
Lest the people should be seduced and deceived by hearing the
doctrines of the Church of England preached, he denies these
true ministers[417] the pulpit, and says they are _Enthusiasts_;
and the people, as ignorant as himself, join the cry. An
enthusiast! What is that? Oh, ’tis the cant word of the day
for the many-headed monster, the bugbear of the times. ‘Ah,’
says a constant church-goer, ‘I heard one of those preachers
at our church. He preached such a sermon! It was almost an hour
long, and he said downright, that all unconverted people were
in a state of damnation, and would go to hell, if they did not
believe on the Lord Jesus! Truly, he set the parish in an uproar,
for we are not used to such sort of preaching. Thank God for a
good parson, say I; for the Sunday after our parson (God bless
him!) preached a sermon against such doctrine; and, though he
was no longer than a quarter of an hour, he made us all easy
again. He told us we were in no danger of going to hell, and
that there was no fear of our being damned, for we were all
good _Christians_, if we paid every one their own, and did as
we would be done by.’”
Whitefield began the year 1757 with mingled feelings. He rejoiced
because of the prosperity of the work of God; he was distressed by
political and Church contentions; and he was full of care respecting
his distant Orphan House. Hence the following selections from his
letters:――
“LONDON, _January 12, 1757_.
“A wide door seems to be opening at Tottenham Court chapel.
The word flies like lightning in it. O that it may prove a
Bethel――a house of God――a gate of heaven! I believe it will. As
the awakening continues, I have some hopes that we are not to be
given up. Alas! alas! we are _testing_ and _contesting_, while
the nation is bleeding to death. We are condemning this and that;
but sin, the great mischief-maker, lies unmolested, or rather
encouraged by every party.”
To his housekeeper at Bethesda, Whitefield wrote:――
“LONDON, _February 5, 1757_.
“Tottenham Court chapel is made a Bethel, and the awakening
increases every day. O that it were so in Georgia! Surely the
great Shepherd and Bishop of souls will bless you, for taking
care of the lambs in that distant wilderness. Mr. P.’s leaving
Bethesda sadly distresses me. I desire that all, who are capable,
may be put out, and the family reduced as low as possible, till
the war is over, and the institution out of debt. Lord, remember
me and all my various concerns! God bless and direct you in
every step! He will, He will. What is to become of us here, God
only knows. A year perhaps may determine. The best sign is, that
the awakening continues.”
Four years ago, Whitefield had published his pamphlet against
Zinzendorf and the Moravians. Things since then had altered for the
better. Hence the following:――
“LONDON, _February 17, 1757_.
“O to be an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile!
Simplicity and godly sincerity are all in all. A want of
this, I fear, has led the Count into all his mistakes. With
great regret, I speak or write of any people’s weaknesses;
but I thought Divine Providence called me to publish what you
mention. The Redeemer gave it His blessing. I do not find that
their fopperies are continued, and I hear also that they have
discharged many debts.”
At this period, one of the most popular of the metropolitan actors was
a young man of twenty-seven――Edward Shuter, born in a cellar adjoining
Covent Garden――“the offspring of a chairman on the one side, and of an
oyster-woman on the other.” He had been a marker at a billiard table,
and a tapster at a public-house. He had joined a company of strolling
players, among whom, by his drolleries and good nature, he soon
acquired the appellation of _Comical Ned_. At length, Garrick engaged
him at Drury Lane. “He was so thoroughly acquainted,” says a critical
authority, “with the _vis comica_, that he seldom called in those
common auxiliaries, grimace and buffoonery, but rested entirely on
genuine humour. He had strong features, and a peculiar turn of face,
which, without any natural deformity, he threw into the most ridiculous
shapes.” His facetiousness was irresistible. Being in disgrace, on
one occasion, for some irregularity in his performance, the audience
demanded an apology, and vehemently called for him, after he had made
his exit. At the time they were vociferating “Shuter! Shuter!” an
actress happened to be the only person on the stage, when Shuter,
poking out his comical face, from behind one of the scenes, called out,
“Don’t _shoot her_!” which restored the good temper of the spectators
for the rest of the evening.
It is a strange fact, that, this remarkable man――“the greatest comic
genius I ever saw,” said Garrick[418]――was now one of Whitefield’s
constant hearers. Hence the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:――
“LONDON, _March 2, 1757_.
“Not many mighty, not many noble, are called; but some come to
hear at Tottenham Court. Shuter, the player, always makes one
of the auditory, and, as I hear, is much impressed, and brings
others with him.”
The good Countess, from this, was led to take an interest in Shuter’s
welfare. In a letter, to Lady Fanny Shirley, she says:――
“I have had a visit from Shuter, the comedian, whom I saw
in the street, and asked to call on me. He was wonderfully
astonished when I announced my name. We had much conversation;
but he cannot give up his profession for another more reputable.
He spoke of Mr. Whitefield with great affection, and with
admiration of his talents. He promised to come some other time,
when he had more leisure for conversation. Poor fellow! I think
he is not far from the kingdom.”[419]
It is related that on one occasion, when Shuter was in the height of
his reputation, as the representative of “Ramble,” and while he was
seated in a pew exactly in front of the pulpit of Tottenham Court
chapel, Whitefield was inviting sinners to the Saviour, with his
accustomed earnestness, and, at the moment, caught Shuter’s eye, and
exclaimed, “And thou, poor _Ramble_, who hast long _rambled_ from Him,
come thou also. Oh, end thy _ramblings_ by coming to Jesus!”[420] This,
certainly, was more personal than polite; but poor Shuter bore it. Long
after, when his friends used to rate him as a Methodist, he would say,
“A precious _method_ is mine! No, I wish I were; for if any be right,
the Methodists are.”[421]
On Monday, April 25, Whitefield set out for Scotland. Sixteen days
afterwards, he arrived in Edinburgh, where he at once commenced
preaching in his old open-air cathedral, the Orphan Hospital Park,
and, for nearly a month, preached twice a day, morning and evening,
“to very numerous audiences.”[422]
In all respects, this was a memorable visit. A week after Whitefield’s
arrival, the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland met at
Edinburgh, Charles, the ninth Baron of Cathcart, being his Majesty’s
commissioner,――“a nobleman no less distinguished for the virtues which
adorn private life, than he was eminent for all those which exalt
a public character. In the capacity of father, husband, and friend,
his lordship had few equals, and was exceeded by none in discharging,
with dignity and ability, the duties of the high stations in which
he had been placed by his sovereign.”[423] The Rev. William Leechman,
D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow, was chosen
moderator. Leechman was a celebrated preacher, a popular lecturer, “a
man,” says Sir Henry Moncreiff, “of primitive and apostolic manners,
equally distinguished by his love of literature and his liberal
opinions.”[424] The sessions of the Assembly were continued from the
19th to the 30th of May, and Whitefield attended every one of them.
“On Saturday, the 28th, he dined, by invitation, with the commissioner,
(though not at the same table,) and said grace after dinner.”[425]
Much important business was transacted. A committee was appointed “to
consider the laws relating to the _election_ and _qualifications of
members of Assembly_.” An act of the Synod of Argyle, “that the use
of sermons on the Saturday before, and Monday after, dispensing the
sacrament of the Lord’s supper, be discontinued in all time coming,”
occasioned a long debate, but was ultimately approved. A minister was
arraigned for attending a theatre. A second minister, accused of the
same offence, pleaded “that he had gone to the playhouse only once, and
_endeavoured to conceal himself in a corner_.” Lengthened discussions
followed, and a resolution was passed, “earnestly recommending the
several Presbyteries to take care that none of their ministers do,
upon any account, attend the theatre.” Another resolution was approved,
forbidding “_simoniacal practices_.” Several cases of “_double
presentation_” to livings had to be decided. A scandal respecting the
Rev. William Brown occupied considerable time; but the result was, the
Assembly “assoilzied Mr. Brown.” Appeals and petitions from ministers
were heard, and resolutions were passed respecting the fund for
ministers’ widows, and “anent ministers making _agreements with their
heritors_ concerning the extent of their stipends.”
Listening to learned and long debates on these and kindred subjects
was Whitefield’s daily recreation between his morning and evening
preachings.
On June 6, he set out for Glasgow, where he continued several
days.[426] An extract from the _Scots’ Magazine_ for 1757, page 322,
may be welcome:――
“In a letter from Glasgow, of June 19, we have the following
account: ‘On Monday last, the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, at the desire
of several of our magistrates, preached a sermon for the benefit
of the poor of this city, from Mark vi. 34. At the conclusion of
his discourse, he pressed the charity with many solid arguments.
A number of the magistrates and elders stood up to collect at
the outside of the congregation; who went away with regularity,
and gave their contributions very cheerfully. The whole amounted
to £58 sterling, which is all to be applied to the relief of our
poor. After the sermon, the magistrates waited on Mr. Whitefield,
and thanked him for this good office, which has given great and
general satisfaction.’”
At Whitefield’s farewell sermon in the Orphan Hospital Park, Edinburgh,
there was a young Scotchman present, who afterwards became one of
Wesley’s most faithful and sturdy itinerants. Thomas Rankin, born at
Dunbar, was now resident at Leith, and came to Edinburgh to hear the
great preacher. He writes:――
“I had often before had thoughts of hearing Mr. Whitefield; but
so many things had been said to me of him, that I was afraid
I should be deceived. He preached in the field adjoining the
Orphan House yard. His text was Isaiah xxxiii. 13–17. The sermon
exceeded all the sermons I ever heard. About the middle of
it, I ventured to look up, and saw all the crowds around Mr.
Whitefield bathed in tears. I listened with wonder and surprise,
and had such a discovery of the plan of salvation as I had never
known before. I was astonished at myself that I had listened to
the idle tales concerning him, and thereby have been kept from
hearing a burning and shining light, who had been instrumental
in the hand of God for the good of so many thousands of souls.
When I understood he was about to leave Edinburgh, I was
distressed. I remembered more of that sermon than of all the
sermons I had ever heard. I had a discovery of the unsearchable
riches of the grace of God in Christ Jesus; as also of how a
lost sinner was to come to God, and obtain mercy through the
Redeemer. From this time, I was truly convinced of the necessity
of a change of heart.”[427]
As already stated, Thomas Rankin became one of ♦Wesley’s most valuable
preachers. His labours, both in England and in America, were of great
importance; and, if no other end had been accomplished by Whitefield’s
present visit to the Scotch metropolis, the conversion of Rankin was an
ample compensation for all his toil and travelling.
Whitefield’s account of his visit is brief and imperfect. He writes on
May 31st: “Attendance upon the Assembly, and preaching, have engrossed
all my time.” In another letter, dated Glasgow, June 9, 1757, he
remarks:――
“At Edinburgh, I was so taken up all day, and kept up so late at
night, that writing was almost impracticable. Surely, my going
thither was of God. I came there on the 12th of May, and left
the 6th of June, and preached just fifty times. To what purpose,
the great day will discover. I have reason to believe to very
good purpose. Being the time of the General Assembly, (at which
I was much pleased,) many ministers attended, perhaps a hundred
at a time. Thereby prejudices were removed, and many of their
hearts were deeply impressed. About thirty of them, as a token
of respect, invited me to a public entertainment. The Lord High
Commissioner also invited me to his table; and many persons of
credit and religion did the same in a public manner. Thousands
and thousands, among whom were a great many of the best rank,
daily attended on the word preached; and the longer I stayed,
the more the congregations and Divine influence increased. Twice
I preached in my way to Glasgow; and, last night, opened my
campaign here. The cloud seems to move towards Ireland. How
the Redeemer vouchsafes to deal with me there, you shall know
hereafter.”
Whitefield’s previous visit to Ireland had been greatly blessed. The
people longed to give him another welcome. One section of his converts
had laid the foundation of a prosperous Moravian church. Another had
formed a Baptist congregation. A number of others were scattered, and
needed encouragement.[428] He went to help them, and his visit was
memorable. To the day of his death, a deep scar in his head was a
memento of it.[429] He shall tell his own story.
“DUBLIN, _June 30, 1757_.
“The door is open, and indeed the poor Methodists want help.
Here, in Dublin, the congregations are very large, and very
much impressed. The Redeemer vouchsafes to me great freedom in
preaching, and arrows of conviction fly and fasten. One of the
bishops told a nobleman, he was glad I was come to rouse the
people. The nobleman himself told me this yesterday. Alas! that
so few have the ambition of coming out to the help of the Lord
against the mighty. Not one clergyman, in all Ireland, is as
yet stirred up to come out _singularly_ for God. Pity, Lord, for
Thy mercy’s sake! I think God will yet appear for the Protestant
interest. My route now is to Athlone, Limerick, and Cork; and to
return here about July 21st.”
“DUBLIN, _July 3, 1757_.