the chief of sinners with His unmerited blessing. In Scotland,
His almighty arm was most powerfully revealed; and here, in
Dublin, many have begun to say, ‘What shall we do to be saved?’
Congregations are large, and very much impressed. All sorts
attend, and all sorts seem to be affected. I should be glad
to come to London, but cannot in conscience as yet. Not one
minister, either in the Church or among the Dissenters, in this
kingdom, as far as I can hear, appears boldly for God. To-morrow,
therefore, I purpose to set out for Athlone, Limerick, and
Cork. God only knows where, after that, will be the next remove.
Perhaps to London; perhaps to the north of Ireland, which,
I hear, lies open for the gospel. Winter must be the London
harvest. O for more labourers, who will account the work itself
the best wages!
“July 5. Since writing the above, I have been in the wars; but,
blessed be God, am pretty well recovered, and going on my way
rejoicing. Pray hard.”
“_July 9, 1757._
“You have heard of my being in Ireland, and of my preaching to
large and affected auditories in Mr. Wesley’s spacious room.
When here last, I preached in a more confined place on the
week-days, and once or twice ventured out to Oxmanton Green,
a large place like Moorfields, situated very near the barracks,
where the _Ormond_[430] and _Liberty_ (that is, _high and low
party_) _Boys_ generally assemble every Sunday, to fight with
each other. The congregations then were very numerous, the word
seemed to come with power, and no noise or disturbance ensued.
This encouraged me to give notice, that I would preach there
again last Sunday afternoon.
“I went through the barracks, the door of which opens into the
Green, and pitched my tent near the barrack walls, not doubting
of the protection, or at least interposition, of the officers
and soldiery, if there should be occasion. But how vain is the
help of man! Vast was the multitude that attended. We sang,
prayed, and preached, without much molestation; only, now and
then, a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at me. It being
war time, I exhorted my hearers, as is my usual practice, not
only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings; and, after
the sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms.[431]
“All being over, I thought to return home the way I came; but,
to my great surprise, access to the barracks was denied, so that
I had to go near half a mile, from one end of the Green to the
other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, etc. Finding
me unattended, (for a soldier and four Methodist preachers,[432]
who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their
mercy. Their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty.
Vollies of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step
I took, a fresh stone struck, and made me reel backwards and
forwards, till I was almost breathless, and was covered all over
with blood. My strong beaver hat served me, as it were, for a
skullcap for a while; but, at last, that was knocked off, and my
head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and wounds;
one was particularly large near my temples. Providentially,
a minister’s house stood next door to the Green. With great
difficulty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to,
and shut upon me. Some of the mob, in the meantime, broke part
of the boards of the pulpit into splinters, and beat and wounded
my servant grievously in his head and arms, and then came and
drove him from the door of the house where I had found a refuge.
“For a while, I continued speechless, expecting every breath
to be my last. Two or three of my friends, by some means, got
admission, and kindly washed my wounds. I gradually revived, but
soon found the lady of the house desired my absence, for fear
the house should be pulled down. What to do, I knew not, being
near two miles from Mr. Wesley’s place. Some advised one thing,
and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends
who came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off
in disguise. I accepted of them, and put them on, but was soon
ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper
habit, and threw them off in disdain. Immediately, deliverance
came. A Methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach;
I leaped into it, and rode, in gospel triumph, through the oaths,
curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists, unhurt.
“None but those who were spectators of the scene can form an
idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping,
mourning, but now joyful Methodists. A Christian surgeon was
ready to dress my wounds, which being done, I went into the
preaching place, and, after giving a word of exhortation, joined
in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him, who makes our
extremity His opportunity, and who stills the noise of the waves,
and the madness of the most malignant people.
“The next morning, I set out for Port Arlington, and left my
persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors has often made
preachers.”[433]
The hard knocks Whitefield received from the Dublin papists did not
prevent the carrying out of his plan to visit the towns already
mentioned. Hence the following:――
“CORK, _July 15, 1757_.
“Everywhere the glorious Emmanuel so smiles upon my feeble
labours, that it is hard to get away from Ireland. At
Port-Arlington, Athlone, Limerick, and this place, the word has
run and been glorified. Arrows of conviction seem to fly; and the
cup of many has been made to run over. I have met with some hard
blows from the Dublin rabble; but, blessed be God! they have not
destroyed me.”
In another letter, addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow, and
dated, “Wednesbury, Staffordshire, August 7, 1757,” he wrote:――
“Though Mr. Hopper promised to write you an historical letter,
from Dublin, I cannot help dropping you a few lines from this
place. At Athlone, Limerick, Cork, and especially at Dublin,
where I preached near fifty times, we had Cambuslang seasons.
With the utmost difficulty, I came away. The blows I received
were like to send me where all partings would have been over.
But, I find, we are immortal till our work is done.”
Whitefield found it difficult to get away; but it is a notable fact
that he never went again. This was his last visit to Ireland! He
went but twice, and both of his visits put together were not of three
months’ continuance. Wesley made twenty visits, most of them of long
duration. Ireland’s debt to Whitefield is but small; but to Wesley
great.
After an absence of about four months, Whitefield got back to London.
One of the first things that claimed his attention was the business of
his Orphan House, which had recently been visited by the governor of
Georgia. The following was addressed to his housekeeper:――
“LONDON, _August 26, 1757_.
“I think myself happy, in finding you are satisfied in your
present situation. I would rather have you to preside over the
orphan family than any woman I know. I do not love changes.
Sometimes I wish for wings to fly over; but Providence detains
me here.[434] I fear a dreadful storm is at hand. Lord Jesus,
be Thou our refuge! At Dublin, I was like to be sent beyond the
reach of storms. A most blessed influence attended the word in
various parts of Ireland; and here, in London, the prospect is
more and more promising. As to outward things, all is gloomy.
I hope Bethesda will be kept in peace. I am glad the governor
has been to visit the house. May God make him a blessing to the
colony! I wish you would let me know how the English children
are disposed of. I would fain have a list of black and white,
from time to time. Blessed be God for the increase of the
negroes! I entirely approve of reducing the number of orphans as
low as possible; and I am determined to take in no more than the
plantation will maintain, till I can buy more negroes. Never was
I so well satisfied with my assistants as now.”
Whitefield’s stay in London was short. Accompanied by the Revs. Martin
Madan and Henry Venn, he soon set out, on a six weeks’ journey, to the
west of England. Extracts from two of his letters will furnish an idea
of his spirit and his work.
“EXETER, _September 28, 1757_.
“Blessed be God! I can send you good news concerning Plymouth.
The scene was like that of Bristol, only more extraordinary.
Officers, soldiers, sailors, and the dockmen attended, with the
utmost solemnity, upon the word preached. Arrows of conviction
flew and fastened; and I left all God’s people upon the wing for
heaven. Blessed be the Lord Jesus for ordering me the lot of a
_cast-out_! I am glad that Mr. Madan and Mr. Venn returned safe.
May an effectual door be opened for both! If so, they will have
many adversaries. If the weather should alter, I may be in town
before long; if not, I may range farther. This spiritual hunting
is delightful sport, when the heart is in the work.”
The next is taken from a letter to the Rev. John Gillies. The
“Counsellor” mentioned was Mr. Madan, who, before his ordination,
practised at the bar.
“LONDON, _October 16, 1757_.
“REVEREND AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I thank you for your sympathising
letter sent to Ireland. The Friend of sinners stood by me, or
I had been stoned to death. Stones were thrown at me, not for
speaking against the papists in particular, but, for exciting
all ranks to be faithful to King Jesus, and to our dear
sovereign King George, for His great name’s sake.
“Seven gospel ministers were together at Bristol, when the
Counsellor preached. We have had blessed seasons, for these six
weeks last past, at Plymouth, Exeter, Bristol, Gloucester, and
Gloucestershire. This comes from my winter quarters.”
Whitefield was again in London, where he continued for seven months.
The “Counsellor,” the Rev. Martin Madan, was now a red-hot evangelist.
He had preached through Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire,
Warwickshire, Worcestershire, and Gloucestershire.[435] The number of
Methodist clergymen was rather rapidly increasing. Besides Whitefield,
the Wesleys, Hervey, Grimshaw, Romaine, Madan, Venn, Walker, and others
already mentioned in this biography, there were now the Rev. James
Stillingfleet, ultimately rector of Hotham, in Yorkshire; the Rev.
Mr. Downing, chaplain to the Earl of Dartmouth; and the Rev. William
Talbot, LL.D., vicar of Kineton, in Warwickshire, a man of aristocratic
family.[436] In this year, 1757, not fewer than five of these earnest
clergymen, Messrs. Walker, Talbot, Downing, Stillingfleet, and Madan,
at the request of Lord Dartmouth,[437] had preached at Cheltenham.[438]
On three or four occasions, Mr. Downing obtained the pulpit of the
parish church; but the rector and the churchwardens interposed, and
the zealous Methodist was excluded. Lord Dartmouth then opened his
own house for preaching, twice a week; and, sometimes, the seminary of
Mr. Samuel Wells was used for the same purpose.[439] In a letter to the
Countess of Huntingdon, his lordship wrote:――
“I wish your ladyship would use your influence with Mr.
Whitfield and Mr. Romaine to pay us a visit. Mr. Stillingfleet
has been obliged to return to Oxford, and I know not where to
direct to Mr. Madan or Mr. Venn. Mr. Talbot has promised to come
as soon as possible; and, next month, I expect good Mr. Walker,
of Truro. The rector was so displeased with Mr. Downing
preaching, and the great crowds who flocked to hear him, that
he excluded him from the pulpit after three or four sermons, and
refused to admit Mr. Stillingfleet, though I said everything I
could to induce him to do so. Since then, I have opened my house,
but find it too small for the numbers who solicit permission to
attend. I have no hopes of again obtaining the use of the parish
church.”
Just at this time, Madan came to Cheltenham, and was soon after
joined by Venn, and by Maddock, the latter the curate of Hervey, of
Weston-Favel. Contrary to the expectations of Lord Dartmouth, both
Madan and Venn were several times admitted to the parish pulpit. Then
came Whitefield, and an immense crowd collected, expecting that he
also would preach in the church. Attended by Lord and Lady Dartmouth,
and by Messrs. Madan, Venn, Talbot, and Downing, the renowned preacher
proceeded to the church door. They found it closed against them.
Whitefield, never at a loss for pulpits, mounted a neighbouring
tombstone, and preached. The Rev. Henry Venn shall tell the remainder
of the story. In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, he wrote:――
“Under Mr. Whitefield’s sermon, many, among the immense crowd
that filled every part of the burial ground, were overcome with
fainting. Some sobbed deeply; others wept silently; and a solemn
concern appeared on the countenance of almost the whole assembly.
When he came to impress the injunction in the text (Isaiah
li. 1) his words seemed to cut like a sword, and several in
the congregation burst out into the most piercing bitter cries.
Mr. Whitefield, at this juncture, made a pause, and then burst
into a flood of tears. During this short interval, Mr. Madan and
myself stood up, and requested the people to restrain themselves,
as much as possible, from making any noise. Twice afterwards, we
had to repeat the same counsel. O with what eloquence, energy,
and melting tenderness, did Mr. Whitefield beseech sinners to be
reconciled to God! When the sermon was ended, the people seemed
chained to the ground. Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, Mr. Downing, and
myself found ample employment in endeavouring to comfort those
broken down under a sense of guilt. We separated in different
directions among the crowd, and each was quickly surrounded by
an attentive audience, still eager to hear all the words of this
life.
“The next day, a like scene was witnessed, when dear Mr.
Whitefield preached to a prodigious congregation from Isaiah
lv. 6. In the evening, Mr. Talbot preached at Lord Dartmouth’s,
to as many as the rooms would hold. Hundreds crowded round his
lordship’s residence, anxiously expecting Mr. Whitefield to
preach. Exhausted as he was from his exertions in the morning,
when he heard that there were multitudes without, he stood
upon a table near the front of the house, and ♦proclaimed the
efficacy of the Saviour’s blood to cleanse the vilest of the
vile.
“Intelligence of the extraordinary power attending the word
soon spread, and the next day we had Mr. Charles Wesley and
many friends from Bristol, Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Rodborough,
and the villages in the neighbourhood; but all loud weeping and
piercing cries had subsided, and the work of conversion went on
in a more silent manner. For several days, we have had public
preaching, which has been well attended, and much solid good has
been done.
“Mr. Whitefield and myself purpose leaving this for London the
day after to-morrow; and Mr. Madan and Mr. Talbot go in a few
days to Northamptonshire.”[440]
This was a glorious “mission week,” in Cheltenham churchyard, a hundred
and twenty-nine years ago. It is rather remarkable that Whitefield
himself has left no account of it; but, shortly after, he wrote, as
follows, to Mr. Madan, pursuing his “mission” work in Northamptonshire.
“LONDON, _November 3, 1757_.
“Your kind letter was very acceptable. Ere now, I trust, the
Redeemer has given you the prospect of the barren wilderness
being turned into a fruitful field. Never fear. Jesus will
delight to honour you. Every clergyman’s name is Legion. Two
more are lately ordained.[441] The kingdom of God suffereth
violence, and, if we would take it by force, we must do violence
to our softest passions, and be content to be esteemed unkind
by those whose idols we once were. This is hard work; but, Abba,
Father, all things are possible with Thee!
“Blessed be God! for putting it into your heart to ask my pulpit
for a week-day sermon. Are we not commanded to be instant in
season and out of season? If dear Mrs. Madan will take my word
for it, I will be answerable for your health. The joy resulting
from doing good will be a continual feast. God knows how long
our time of working may last. This order undoes us. As affairs
now stand, we must be disorderly, or useless. O for more
labourers!
“I am told thousands went away last Sunday evening from
Tottenham Court, for want of room. Every day produces fresh
accounts of good being done. At this end of the town, the word
runs, and is glorified more and more. Last Friday, we had a
most solemn fast. I preached thrice. Thousands attended; and,
I humbly hope, our prayers entered into the ears of the Lord of
Sabaoth. More bad news from America about our fleet. God humble
and reform us! Go on, my dear sir, and tell a sinful nation,
that sin and unbelief are the accursed things which prevent
success. Thus, at last, we shall deliver our souls, and be free
from the blood of all men.
“That you may return to London in all the fulness of the
blessings of the gospel of Christ, is and shall be the prayer of,
dear sir,
“Yours, etc.,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”
While Whitefield was acquiring new friends, he was losing old ones.
Jonathan Belcher, governor of the province of New Jersey, died on
August 31, 1757; and Aaron Burr, President of New Jersey College,
within a month afterwards. “The deaths of Governor Belcher, and
President Burr,” wrote Whitefield, “are dark providences; but Jesus
lives and reigns. Lord, raise up Elishas in the room of ascended
Elijahs!”[442]
Whitefield’s correspondence was enormous. As a rule, no letters have
been introduced in the present work, except such as contained facts
and statements illustrative of his work and history. Mere _friendly_
letters, though existing in great numbers, have been excluded. As a
specimen of hundreds of others, which might have been inserted, the
following, hitherto unpublished, may be welcome. They relate to the
marriage of the grandfather and grandmother of James Rooker, Esq.,
solicitor, at Bideford, by whom they have been courteously lent:――
“LONDON, _November 15, 1757_.
“DEAR MISS MOLLY,――Though weak in body, yet, as perhaps it may
be the last time I may write to you in your present position, be
pleased to accept a few valedictory lines.
“I think you may cheerfully say, ‘I will go with the man.’
Providence seems to have directed you to one who, I trust, will
love you as Christ loves the Church. My poor prayers will always
follow you. That you may be a mother in Israel, and, in every
respect, be enabled to walk as becometh the wife of a true
minister of Jesus Christ, is, and shall be, the ardent desire of,
dear Miss Molly, your affectionate friend and ready servant for
Christ’s sake,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.
“To Miss Molly Shepherd.”
“LONDON, _January 17, 1758_.
“_Seven in the morning._
“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,――I wish you joy, from my inmost soul,
of being married to one of the best-women, and of being admitted
into one of the best families in England. I never had the least
doubt of your affair being of God. You have called Jesus and His
disciples to the marriage; and your letter sent me to my knees
with tears of joy and strong cryings that the God and Father of
our Lord Jesus may bless you both. You need not ask, my dear sir,
the continuance of my friendship. I value you as a dear minister
of Christ, and as the husband of one who was presented by her
honoured father at the table of the Lord. I doubt not of her
being a help-meet for you,――a mother in Israel. May you, like
Zachary and Elizabeth, be enabled to walk in all the ordinances
and commandments of the Lord blameless! I am glad the dear
little female flock at Bideford will have such an agreeable
addition to their society. That grace, mercy, and peace may be
multiplied on them and you, is, and shall be, the hearty prayer
of, reverend and dear sir, your affectionate friend and ready
servant in our common Lord,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.
“My wife joins in cordial respects.
“To the Rev. Mr. Lavington.”
Scores of such letters might be introduced,――the spontaneous effusions
of a warm-hearted Christian friendship.
Whitefield’s incessant and arduous labours began to affect his health.
Hence the following extracts from his correspondence:――
“London, November 26, 1757. Last week, my poor feeble labours
almost brought me to the grave; but preaching three times,
yesterday, on account of the late success of the Prussians,
has somewhat recovered me. It was a high day: thousands and
thousands attended.”
“London, December 14, 1757. By New Year’s Day, I hope, we shall
be able to discharge our Tottenham Court chapel debts. Every day
proves more and more that it was built for the glory of Christ,
and the welfare of many precious and immortal souls. But my
attendance on that, and the Tabernacle too, with a weak body,
outward cares, and inward trials, has, of late, frequently
brought me near to my wished-for port. I am brought to the short
allowance of preaching but once a day, and thrice on a Sunday.
“Round the Tottenham Court chapel there is a most beautiful
piece of ground, and some good folks have purposed erecting
almshouses on each side, for godly widows. I have a plan for
twelve. The whole expense will be £400. We have got £100. The
widows are to have half a crown a week. The sacrament money,
which will be more than enough, is to be devoted to this purpose.
Thus will many widows be provided for, and a standing monument
be left, that the Methodists were not against good works.”
Thus did Whitefield end the year 1757 in caring for widows, as, for the
last twenty years, he had cared for orphans.
He began the new year, 1758, with a devout outburst of patriotic
gratitude. As already stated, Frederick, King of Prussia, had recently
won a most important battle; and Whitefield wished to recognize
the hand of God in the defeat of his country’s enemies. “Monday,
January 2,” says the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1758, p. 41, “was
observed as a day of thanksgiving, at the chapel in Tottenham Court
Road, by Mr. Whitefield’s people, for the signal victories gained by
the King of Prussia over his enemies.”
It was a trial to Whitefield to be obliged to preach but once a day on
week-days, and thrice on Sundays; but, as usual, he was thankful and
jubilant. The debt on the chapel in Tottenham Court Road was paid; his
friend Martin Madan had become a son of thunder; numbers of sinners
were being saved; and the political horizon was growing brighter. The
following are extracts from his letters:――
“London, January 12, 1758. A more effectual door than ever seems
to be opening in this metropolis. A counsellor, lately ordained,
turns out a Boanerges. Thousands and thousands flock to hear the
everlasting gospel. Let us wrestle in prayer for each other.”
“London, January 17, 1758. What can reconcile us to stay longer
on earth, but the prospect of seeing the kingdom of the Lord
Jesus advanced? It is very promising in London. Mr. Madan is a
Boanerges. The chapel is made a Bethel. Blessed be God! all the
debt is paid.”
The godly and benevolent John Thornton, Esq., was now a young man
rising rapidly into notice. In his house, at Clapham, Whitefield
frequently expounded to large assemblies.[443] To Miss Gideon,[444]
the friend and correspondent of Venn, Whitefield wrote as follows:――
“London, February 3, 1758. I am reduced to the short allowance
of preaching once a day, except thrice on a Sunday. At both ends
of the town, the word runs and is glorified. The champions in
the Church go on like sons of thunder. I am to be at Clapham
this evening. Mr. Venn will gladly embrace the first opportunity.
Bristol, in all probability, will be my first spring excursion.”
In another letter, of the same date, he wrote:――
“The plan concerted some time ago is likely to be put into
execution. The trenches for the wall are begun; and, by the
1st of May, the almshouses are to be finished. If possible, I
would furnish them, that the poor might be sure of goods, as
well as a house. The thing has scarce, as yet, taken wind. By
thoughtfulness, frequent preaching, and a crazy tabernacle, my
nightly rests are continually broken; but the joy of the Lord is
my strength. I hope ere long to be where I shall keep awake for
ever.”
The next letter, addressed to Professor Francke, of Germany, though
containing but little additional information, is too interesting to be
omitted.
“LONDON, _March 5, 1758_.