last, all such charges were absolutely false and calumnious. If he
erred at all, it was in expressing his attachment to the throne and
government of the day, in language stronger than they merited. His
eulogiums of George II. were extravagant, but it would be unjust to
designate them insincere. Everywhere, at home and abroad, he availed
himself of every opportunity to evince his fidelity to his rightful
sovereign, and his respect for the House of Hanover. This, at the time,
was of more than ordinary importance. Jacobite and popish plots were
numerous. Traitors existed in abundance. Loyal men were needed, and
declarations of loyalty were of greater value than at present, when
treason is not so rampant as it was in the days of the Pretender. Such
facts will help to explain the following incident:――
On October 1, Her Royal Highness Princess Caroline Matilda, sister of
George III., at the age of sixteen, was married to the worthless king
of Denmark. The ceremony was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury,
in the Grand Council Chamber at St. James’s, in the presence of the
Royal Family and a large number of the English nobility. The puny
king of Denmark was not present; but Her Royal Highness’s brother,
the Duke of York, acted as his proxy. On the day after the marriage,
at half-past six o’clock in the morning, the young queen set out for
Harwich, to embark for Denmark, being escorted by a detachment of
Horse Guards, and a numerous train of attendants. On the same day,
says _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, “The Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached, at
the Tabernacle, in praise of the queen of Denmark, and concluded with
a fervent prayer for her preservation and good journey.”
This was an odd kind of service for worn-out Whitefield to undertake;
but loyalty to the House of Hanover led him for once to use his
“gospel-throne” in sounding the praises, not of King Jesus, but of
the unfortunate queen of Denmark.
Among others, who now began to render assistance in Whitefield’s
London chapels, was the saintly Fletcher, vicar of Madeley.[547] It
is not improbable that this was one of the results of the “quadruple
alliance,” formed two months before. Be that as it may, the following
extract from Whitefield’s letter to Mr. Powys will interest the
reader:――
“London, November 1, 1766. Dear Mr. Fletcher is become a
scandalous Tottenham Court preacher. I trust he will come down
into your parts, baptized with the Holy Ghost. Dear Mr. Romaine
has been much owned in good Lady Huntingdon’s chapel” (at Bath).
“I am to go thither next week. Dear Mr. Madan is detained at
Aldwinkle, by his children having the small-pox in town. The
shout of a King is yet heard in the Methodist camp. The glorious
cry, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’ is frequently sounding in
our years. Had we more reproach, and were we more scandalous,
more good would be done. Several promise well. Some say
_shibboleth_ with a good grace, and very proper accent; others,
as yet, can only say _sibboleth_; but I have heard of one who
can teach the tongue of the stammerer to speak plain. Good Lady
Huntingdon is an excellent school-mistress in this way. But
I must have done. A dear company of ministerial cast-outs are
coming to breakfast under my despised roof. I cannot die. Cold
bathing and cool weather brace me up.”
Whitefield went to Bath, as he intended; and, whilst there, wrote to
his faithful friend, Mr. Keen, as follows:――
“Bath, November 12, 1766. I have been low ever since my coming
here. The Bath air, I believe, will never agree with me long.
However, if good is done, all will be well. They tell me, that
Sunday and last night were seasons of power. Some, we trust,
were made willing. I hope you enjoy much of God in town. Surely,
London is the Jerusalem of England. Happy they who know the day
of their visitation! Remember me to all at the Tabernacle. I
hope to write to Mr. Fletcher to-morrow or next day.”
“Bath, November 20, 1766. On Tuesday evening, I preached at
Bristol, to a very crowded auditory, though the weather was
very foul. Last night” (Wednesday) “I administered the sacrament
there. We used near eight bottles of wine. I trust some tasted
of the new wine of the kingdom. I want just one week more to
settle Bristol affairs; and have, therefore, written to dear
Mr. Jesse[548] to stay two or three weeks at London. Mr. Howell
Davies,[549] who, they say, is expected here next week, may then
officiate for that space of time at Bath, and, at Mr. Jesse’s
leaving London, may go up to town. I beg that Captain Joss
would go through with the Tabernacle work, and stick to it
with his whole heart. I hope, at farthest, to be in London by
next Tuesday se’nnight, and to preach at the Tabernacle the
following evening. I was afraid my wife would get cold by her
late excursions, as, at other times, she is so much confined.
Be pleased to show this to her.”
“Bristol, November 23, 1766. Such a numerous brilliant assembly
of the mighty and noble, I never saw attend before at Bath.
Everything is so promising, that I was constrained to give
notice of preaching next Sunday. Congregations have been very
large and very solemn. O what Bethels has Jesus given to us! O
that God would make my way into every town in England! I long to
break up fresh ground. I am just come here, weary, but am going
to speak a few words.”
Captain Joss has just been mentioned, and deserves further notice.
Torial Joss was born on September 29, 1731, at Auck-Medden, a small
village, on the sea coast, about twenty miles north of Aberdeen. His
father died when Torial was very young; his mother neglected him; and
he went to sea. The vessel in which he sailed was taken by the French,
and he became an inmate of a foreign prison, where his sufferings
were great. At the age of fifteen, he returned to Scotland; was seized
by a press-gang; and sent on board a man-of-war. He made his escape;
travelled to Sunderland; and bound himself an apprentice to the captain
of a coasting vessel, belonging to Robin Hood’s Bay. By overhearing
a religious conversation, and by reading the works of Bunyan, and “The
Whole Duty of Man,” he was converted. The Methodist preachers visited
Robin Hood’s Bay; a number of the people were convinced of sin; and
Wesley came and formed them into a Society. Previous to this, Torial
had begun to pray and exhort in public; and Wesley encouraged him to
continue. He was now about eighteen years of age, and became a member
of Wesley’s Society. When his apprenticeship expired, he was appointed
first mate of his captain’s vessel. Wherever the ship put into port, he
tried to preach, and, in some instances, suffered cruel persecution. At
Shields, a press-gang dragged him through the town, amid shoutings and
triumph, and sent him on board a tender, where he was kept a prisoner
for seven weeks. The profane swearing and the obscene language of
the crew were terrific trials; and, added to this, having but twenty
minutes in forty-eight hours on deck, he was nearly suffocated with
the foul air and heat. Soon after his release, he was made captain
of a ship, set up regular worship, and, as often as the weather would
permit, preached regularly to his crew. During a long detention at
Berwick-upon-Tweed, his preaching to the crowds was so successful,
that a gentleman wrote to Whitefield, telling him Joss was sailing to
London, in a vessel named the _Hartley Trader_, but which the people
nicknamed “The Pulpit.” On arriving in the Thames, Joss was surprised
by being told that Whitefield had announced him to preach in the
Tabernacle. Whitefield was so gratified with the sermon, that he urged
the captain to quit the compass, the chart, and the ocean, for the
Christian pulpit. After considerable delay, Joss, in 1766, yielded to
Whitefield’s wish, and, henceforth, acted as one of his assistants.
In London, his congregations were crowds, and his sermons full
of converting power. Four or five months every year he spent in
itinerating, regularly visiting Bristol, Gloucestershire, and South
Wales, and, occasionally, other parts of the kingdom. In Wales,
especially, the people followed him in multitudes, and, on Sundays,
would travel twenty miles to hear him. He died in 1797, and was
interred in Tottenham Court Road chapel.[550] Berridge used to call
him “The Archdeacon of Tottenham.”[551]
Another of Whitefield’s helpers must be introduced. Captain Scott, son
of Richard Scott, Esq., of Betton, in the county of Salop, belonged
to the 7th regiment of dragoons. He was present at the famous battle,
at Minden, on the 1st of August, 1759, attached to the cavalry of the
right wing, commanded by Lord George Sackville. After this, he became
the subject of powerful religious impressions, and made it his daily
practice to read the psalms and lessons of the day. In due time, he
heard Romaine, and found peace with God. He soon began to preach.
Fletcher of Madeley, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, wrote:――
“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott――a captain of the
truth, a bold soldier of Jesus Christ. He boldly launches into
an irregular usefulness. For some months, he has exhorted his
dragoons daily; for some weeks, he has preached publicly at
Leicester, in the Methodist meeting-house, in his regimentals,
to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular
ones pursue him with hue and cry; but, I believe, he is quite
beyond their reach. I believe this _red coat_ will shame many
a black one. I am sure he shames me.”
Whitefield heard of the military preacher, and, on February 12, 1767,
wrote to him as follows:――
“What, not answer so modest a request as to send dear Captain
Scott a few lines! God forbid! I must again welcome him into
the field of battle. I must entreat him to keep his rank as
a captain, and not suffer any persuasions to influence him to
descend to the lower degree of a common soldier. If God shall
choose a red-coat preacher, who shall say unto Him, ‘What doest
Thou?’
‘Strong in the Lord’s almighty power,
And armed in panoply divine,
Firm may’st thou stand in danger’s hour,
And prove the strength of Jesus thine.
The helmet of salvation take;
The Lord the Spirit’s conquering sword;
Speak from the word; in lightning speak;
Cry out, and thunder from the Lord.’
“Gladly would I come, and, in my poor way, endeavour to
strengthen your hands; but, alas! I am fit for nothing but,
as an invalid, to be put into some garrison, and then put my
hand to some old gun. Blessed be the Captain of our salvation
for drafting out young champions to reconnoitre and attack the
enemy. You will beat the march in every letter and bid the common
soldiers not halt, but go forward. Hoping one day to see your
face in the flesh, and more than hoping to see you crowned with
glory in the kingdom of heaven, I am, my dear captain, yours in
our all-glorious Captain-General,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[552]
As yet, Whitefield had not seen Captain Scott; but he requested him
to come and preach in London. “I have invited the captain,” said
Whitefield to the Tabernacle congregation, “to bring his artillery to
the Tabernacle rampart, and try what execution he can do here.” Soon
after this, Captain Scott sold his commission, and, for upwards of
twenty years, was one of the supplies of the Tabernacle pulpit.[553]
In this same year, 1766, Whitefield entered into correspondence with
another distinguished man, who was destined, for a brief period, to
be one of his successors at the Tabernacle and at Tottenham Court Road
chapel. Rowland Hill, the sixth son of Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., was now
twenty-one years of age. He had been to school at Eton, and, for the
last two years, had been an undergraduate at Cambridge. Here he became
intimately acquainted with good old Berridge, of Everton, and scarcely
a week elapsed without their holding religious intercourse with each
other. Rowland, even now, was full of religious fire and energy and
boldness. He had already been the means of awakening anxiety about
their souls in several of his fellow-students. He had also visited
the gaol, and the sick, and had begun to preach in several places in
Cambridge, and in the adjacent villages. This brought upon him the
severest censure of his college. Mobs also commenced to insult him;
and, at length, the opposition he encountered became so serious, that
he wrote to Whitefield for advice. Whitefield’s reply was as follows:――
“LONDON, _December 27, 1766_.
“About thirty-four years ago, the master of Pembroke College,
where I was educated, took me to task for visiting the sick,
and going to the prisons. In my haste, I said, ‘Sir, if
it displeaseth you, I will go no more.’ My heart smote me
immediately. I repented, and went again. He heard of it,
and threatened; but, for fear he should be looked upon as
a persecutor, let me alone. The hearts of all are in the
Redeemer’s hands. I would not have you give way, no not for
a moment. The storm is too great to hold long. Visiting the
sick and imprisoned, and instructing the ignorant, are the very
vitals of true and undefiled religion. If threatened, denied
degree, or expelled for _this_, it will be the best degree you
can take――a glorious preparative for, and a blessed presage
of, future usefulness. I have seen the dreadful consequences
of giving way and looking back. How many, by this wretched
cowardice, have been turned into pillars, not of useful, but of
useless salt! _Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum._ Now
is the time to prove the strength of Jesus yours. If opposition
did not so much abound, your consolations would not so abound.
Blind as he is, Satan sees some great good coming. We never
prospered so much at Oxford, as when we were hissed at and
reproached as we walked along the street. Go on, therefore,
my dear man, go on. Old Berridge, I believe, would give you
the same advice. You are honoured in sharing his reproach and
name. God be praised, that you are helped to bless when others
blaspheme. Do not drop the Bible and old books. You write good
sense. Nothing is wanting but to write it in a proper manner.
God bless, direct, and prosper you! He will, He will. Good Lady
Huntingdon is in town. She will rejoice to hear you are under
the cross. You will not want her prayers, or the prayers of, my
dear young honest friend,
“Yours, in the all-conquering Jesus,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.[554]
“To Mr. Rowland Hill,
“At St. John’s College, Cambridge.”
For above thirty years, Whitefield had been the butt of persecution,
and, therefore, was not unprepared to give advice to young Rowland
Hill. He was still hunted by the hatred of his enemies. Among other
publications, there was issued, about this period, a sixpenny pamphlet,
in folio, with the title, “The Celebrated Lecture upon Heads,” most
of which is too coarse and blasphemous to be quoted. One specimen,
concerning Whitefield, must suffice.
“Behold here one of the _righteous over-much_――yet nought doth
he give away in charity! No, no! He is the bell-wether of the
flock, who hath broken down _orthodoxy’s bounds_, and now riots
on the _common of hypocrisy_. With _one_ eye he looks up to
heaven, to make his congregation think he is _devout_, that’s
his _spiritual_ eye; and with the other eye he looks down to
see what he can get, and that’s his _carnal_ eye; and thus,
with jokes flowing down his face, he says, or seems to say,
or, at least with your permission, we’ll attempt to say for him,
‘Bretheren! bretheren! bretheren! The word bretheren comes from
the Tabernacle, because we all _breathe-there-in_. If ye want
_rouzing_, I’ll _rouze_ you. I’ll beat a _tat-too_ upon the
parchment cases of your consciences, and whip the _devil_ about
like a _whirl-a-gig_.’”
_Quantum sufficit!_ The remainder is a great deal worse than this.
Another pamphlet of the same description, price eighteen-pence, was
entitled “The Methodist and Mimic. A Tale in Hudibrastic Verse. By
Peter Paragraph. Inscribed to Samuel Foote, Esq.” The gist of this foul
publication is, that Whitefield sends one of his congregation to Foote,
with a proposal that the comedian should turn preacher; and, of course,
Samuel Foote, Esq., rejects the proposal with disdain.
One more must be mentioned: “The Methodist. A Poem. By the Author of
the Powers of the Pen, and the Curate. London, 1766.” (4to. pp. 54.)
Some parts of this impious publication are obscene, and attribute
to Whitefield behaviour of the most infamous and impure description.
The general purport of it is to describe the devil making a tour of
discovery, to find some one to manage his affairs on earth, so that he
himself might have leisure to attend to his government in hell. With
this object in view,
“he searched, without avail,
Each meeting, dungeon, court, and jail,
Each mart of villainy, where vice
Presides, and virtue bears no price.”
But nowhere could he find an agent suited to his mind, till he got to
Tottenham Court Road chapel, where he discovered Whitefield. For the
sake of gold, Whitefield became his terrestrial viceroy, and swore
fealty to him. One of the devil’s requirements was, that, because what
Whitefield _did_ was contrary to what he _said_, his eyes ought to
look different ways; and, accordingly, they were twisted. Describing
Whitefield’s sermons, the writer says:――
“He knows his _Master’s_ realm so well,
His sermons are a _map_ of hell,
An _Ollio_ made of conflagration,
Of _gulphs_ of brimstone, and _damnation_,
_Eternal torments_, _furnace_, _worm_,
_Hell-fire_, a _whirlwind_, and a _storm_.”
An apology is almost needed for the insertion of such profanity as
this, and yet, without it, it is impossible to convey to the reader
an adequate idea of the ridicule and odium cast upon dying Whitefield.
Vile as are the extracts given, much viler remain unquoted.
Whitefield concluded the year 1766 by writing one of his characteristic
letters to Thomas Powys, Esq., who was entertaining, at his mansion
in Shropshire, during Christmastide, the Rev. Messrs. Venn, Ryland,
Dr. Conyers, and Powley, vicar of Dewsbury.[555]
“AT MY TOTTENHAM COURT BETHEL,
“_Six in the Morning, December 30, 1766_.
“MY VERY DEAR SIR,――The Christmas holiday season has prevented
me sending an immediate answer to your last kind letter.
The love therein expressed shall be returned, by praying
for the writer’s whole self, and the honourable, Christian,
and ministerial circle with which you are at present happily
surrounded. _Four Methodist parsons!_ Honourable title! so long
as it is attended with the cross. When fashionable, we will drop
it. _Four Methodist parsons!_ Enough, when Jesus says, ‘Loose
them and let them go,’ to set a whole kingdom on fire for God.
I wish them prosperity in the name of the Lord.
“To-morrow, God willing, and on Thursday also, with many
hundreds more, I intend to take the sacrament upon it, that I
will begin to be a Christian. Though I long to go to heaven, to
see my glorious Master, what a poor figure shall I make, among
saints, confessors, and martyrs, without some deeper signatures
of His divine impress――without more scars of Christian honour!
“Our truly noble mother in Israel is come to London full of them.
_Crescit sub pondere virtus._ Happy they who have the honour of
her acquaintance! Highly honoured are the ministers, who have
the honour of preaching for and serving her!
“O this single eye,――this disinterested spirit,――this freedom
from worldly hopes and worldly fears,――this flaming zeal,――this
daring to be singularly good,――this holy ambition to lead the
van! O, it is, what? a heaven upon earth! O for a plerophory of
faith! to be filled with the Holy Ghost! This is the grand point.
All our lukewarmness, all our timidity, all our backwardness
to do good, to spend and be spent for God,――all is owing to
our want of more of that faith, which is the inward, heartfelt,
self-evident demonstration of things not seen.
“But whither am I going? Pardon me, good sir. I keep you from
better company. Praying that all of you (if you live to be
fifty-two) may not be such dwarfs in the Divine life as I am,
I hasten to subscribe myself, etc.,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”
Whitefield began the year 1767 by writing a preface to the third
edition of the collected works of Bunyan, published in two large folio
volumes (pp. 856 and 882), admirably printed, and containing curious
and well-executed illustrations. The title was, “The Works of that
Eminent Servant of Christ, Mr. John Bunyan, Minister of the Gospel,
and formerly Pastor of a Congregation at Bedford. With Copperplates,
adapted to the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Holy War, etc., in Two Volumes.
The Third Edition. To which are now added The Divine Emblems, and
several other Pieces, which were never printed in any former Collection,
with a Recommendatory Preface by the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A.,
Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London:
printed for W. Johnston, in Ludgate Street; and E. and C. Dilly, in the
Poultry, near the Mansion House. 1767.”[556]
Whitefield’s preface is dated January 3, 1767. Two extracts from it
must suffice. In reference to the fact that Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress
was written in Bedford Gaol, Whitefield remarks:――
“Ministers never write or preach so well as when under the
cross. The Spirit of Christ and of glory then rests upon them.
It was this, no doubt, that made the Puritans of the last century
such burning and shining lights. When cast out by the black
Bartholomew Act, and driven from their respective charges to
preach in barns and fields, in the highways and hedges, they, in
an especial manner, wrote and preached as men having authority.
Though dead, by their writings they yet speak. A peculiar
unction attends them to this very hour. For these thirty years
past, I have remarked that the more true and vital religion
has revived, either at home or abroad, the more the good old
Puritanical writings, or the authors of a like stamp, who lived
and died in the communion of the Church of England, have been
called for.”
Then again, with reference to what, throughout the whole of his career,
was one of Whitefield’s favourite virtues, namely, catholicity of
spirit, he writes:――
“I must own that what more particularly endears Mr. Bunyan to my
heart is this, he was of a catholic spirit. The want of _water
adult baptism_, with this man of God, was no bar to outward
Christian communion. And I am persuaded, that if, like him, we
were more deeply and experimentally baptized into the benign
and gracious influences of the blessed Spirit, we should be
less baptized into the waters of strife, about circumstantials
and non-essentials. We should have but one grand, laudable,
disinterested strife, namely, who should live, preach, and exalt
the ever-loving, altogether lovely Jesus most.”
Just at this period, Whitefield took under his patronage a young man,
who, if not a tinker, was quite as poor as the “immortal dreamer.”
Cornelius Winter, the son of a shoemaker, and bred in a workhouse,
was now in the twenty-fifth year of his age. For twelve long years,
he had been the drudge and the butt of a drunken brute in Bunhill Row.
The poor workhouse lad had been converted by attending Whitefield’s
Tabernacle, and had become a member of its Society. During the last
year or two, he had been an itinerant preacher, and now he applied
to Whitefield to send him, as a minister, to America. Whitefield
replied:――
“LONDON, _January 29, 1767_.
“DEAR MR. WINTER,――Your letter met with proper acceptance.
The first thing to be done now is to get some knowledge of the
Latin language. We can talk of the method to be pursued, at
your return to London. Mr. Green[557] would make a suitable
master. No time should be lost. One would hope that the various
humiliations you have met with were intended as preparations for
future exaltations. The greatest preferment under heaven is to
be an able, painful, faithful, successful, suffering, cast-out
minister of the New Testament. That this may be your happy lot
is the hearty prayer of yours, etc.,
“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”[558]
On coming to London, Cornelius Winter waited upon Whitefield. He
writes:――
“Mr. Whitefield gave me a mild reception. The interview was
short. He said he should expect me to preach in the Tabernacle
next morning at six o’clock, and he appointed a time when
I should come to him again. I heard him in the evening. He
announced that a stranger, recommended by Mr. Berridge, would
preach on the morrow morning. I had little rest that night, and
prayed, rather than studied for the service.”
This was in February, 1767. The result was, Whitefield desired Winter
to procure testimonials from the places he had visited, and also to
write him an account of his conversion. Winter says:――