published: 1. “Methodism, a Popish Idol; or the Danger and Harmony
of Enthusiasm and Separation. By Booth Braithwaite.” (8vo.) “A raving
pamphlet,” said the _Monthly Review_, “against sectaries, with abundant
zeal, little knowledge, and less charity.” 2. “A Letter to a Young
Gentleman at Oxford, intended for Holy Orders” (8vo.),――in ardent
language warning the “young gentleman” against Confessionalists,
Monthly Reviewers, Blasphemers, Reprobates, and Methodists. 3. “The
Pretences of Enthusiasts Considered and Confuted; a Sermon preached
before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, June 26, 1768. By
William Hawkins, M.A., Prebendary of Wells. Published by desire.”
(8vo., 27 pp.) Mr. Hawkins confesses that he has “little hope of
converting spiritual dishonesty, or convincing religious infatuation;”
but he insists that “all pretences of illiterate laymen, and ignorant
mechanics, _to expound the way of God more perfectly_, in consequence
of supernatural inspiration and spiritual illumination, are plainly
to be resolved into the artifice of imposture, or the insanity of
enthusiasm.”
On the other hand, there was published a curious and well-executed
engraving, of folio size, entitled, “The Tree of Life: likewise a View
of the New Jerusalem, and this present Evil World; with the Industry
of Gospel Ministers in endeavouring to pluck sinners from the wrath
to come.” The copy before me is the only one I have ever seen, or
heard of; and, therefore, a brief description of it may be welcome.
The “Tree of Life” is large and fantastic. Its roots are entitled,
“Glorious,” “Gracious,” “Holy,” “Just,” “Wise,” “Almighty,” and
“Omnipresent.” On its stem and two lowest branches is a representation
of the crucified Saviour. Its twelve fruits are “Everlasting Love,”
“Election,” “Pardon,” “Righteousness,” “Refuge,” “Security,” “Peace,”
“Sanctification,” “Promises,” “Good-will,” “Perseverance,” and “Eternal
Redemption.” Its foliage is inscribed with the words, “Circumcision,”
“Baptism,” “Fasting,” “Temptation,” “Victory,” “Poverty,” “Obedience,”
“Shame,” “Reproach,” “Imprisonment,” “Stripes,” “Buffeting,” “Death,”
and “Resurrection.” “The New Jerusalem” is resplendent with the divine
glory, and is surrounded with lovely scenery. “The present Evil World,”
at the bottom of the picture, contains a large number of male and
female figures, some of them in “the Broad Way,” others indulging in
“the Pride of Life,” and others in “Chambering and Wantonness.” In
the right hand corner is the “Bottomless Pit,” with sundry demons,
and ablaze with fire; while, at its mouth, sits “Babylon, Mother
of Harlots,” with a large goblet in her hand; and out of the pit an
avaricious-looking wretch is endeavouring to escape, for the purpose
of clutching his money bags, which are inscribed with the word
“Extortion,” but a grinning fiend has seized him by the long flowing
hair of his head, and prevents him going farther. In the midst of one
crowd, Wesley is preaching, and represented as crying, “Believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ.” In another crowd, _close_ to the “Bottomless
Pit,” stands Whitefield, the likeness excellent, and bearing a strong
resemblance to the portrait in the present volume. The multitude
around him evince great excitement. One man, on his right hand, cries,
“What shall I do to be saved?” Another, on his left, whose coat-tail
a demon grasps, exclaims, “Save, Lord, or I perish.” And Whitefield,
in the midst, dressed in full canonicals, and with hands uplifted,
shouts, “Behold the Lamb.” The whole thing is ludicrous; but it was
friendly, and, no doubt, was published in favour of Whitefield and
his fellow-labourer. Whether it was calculated to answer the artist’s
purpose is another question. Sometimes man has need to pray, “Save me
from my friends!”
To return to Whitefield’s history. Little is known of his proceedings
during the first four months of 1768. The interval seems to have been
spent in London, and, doubtless, was well employed in preaching and
other religious duties. On Wednesday, March 23, he had to perform
a painful duty, to which he had been long accustomed. James Gibson,
attorney-at-law, had been found guilty of the crime of forgery, and
had been sentenced to suffer death. On the morning of the culprit’s
execution, Whitefield attended him in Newgate prison, prayed with him,
and administered to him the holy sacrament. Gibson, a good-looking man
of about forty-five years of age, professed to rely on the merits of
his Saviour; and, in a mourning coach, dressed in black, and wearing a
ruffled shirt, was driven to Tyburn, where his behaviour was devout and
manly, and his sentence was executed.[607]
At Whitsuntide, Whitefield visited Tunbridge Wells, Lewes, and Brighton.
At the first of these places, Lady Huntingdon had procured a permanent
residence, on Mount Ephraim; and Whitefield preached twice in the open
air. “Very many,” says her ladyship, “were cut to the heart. Sinners
trembled exceedingly before the Lord, and a universal impression seemed
to abide upon the multitude. Truly God was in the midst of us to wound
and to heal.”[608]
The following letter, addressed to Whitefield by Rowland Hill, refers
to this visit to Tunbridge Wells, but is chiefly valuable as containing
a sketch of the proceedings of the Methodist students at Cambridge, and
as exhibiting some of the peculiarities of young Rowland’s character:――
“CAMBRIDGE, _May 12, 1768_.
“REV. AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I am glad to hear we are to expect a
smaller edition of your valuable ‘Letter.’[609] I doubt not but
it will be of further utility. It has been read much in this
place. That and the _Shaver_[610] have been sent for to all the
coffee-houses in this University; so that, no doubt, all our
heads have seen all that has been written. But if you think it
any advantage to send each of our heads a separate copy, I will
contrive my best to get it done.
“God be praised for what is doing by the endeavours of dear Lady
Huntingdon at Tunbridge Wells! How wonderfully is she carried
from one place of dissipation to another! How glorious is her
continued progress!
“Blessed be God! we are not without being steeped more than ever
in shame in this place; or, as the old proverb goes, we have
eaten shame and drank after it, and I trust it digests well.
Though we always endeavour to keep clear of a mob, in letting
no more know than our different houses will hold, yet, in spite
of all that can be done, more or less of the gown constantly
attend. The Lord, through much grace, generally keeping me clear
of the fear of man, gives me some little strength to tell you all
about it; and, as I find burs generally stick faster to people’s
clothes than roses, I am sometimes apt to deal in that rough
ware. They have hitherto always stood, like poor brow-beaten
things, with much attention till we have done, when they
generally get together to compare notes, which they afterwards
retail among others of the University, drest up in a droll
fashion, well embellished, with the addition of many ludicrous
lies.
“This makes all, as I pass the streets, stop to wonder at me,
as a strange oddity; but, as I am more than ever convinced
that the only way God ever will carry on His work, is by the
manifestation of His own almighty power, without any of our
assisting influence or trimming, I find the only way to meet
with a blessing is to be honest and open in telling them the
simple truth, and leaving God to bless it. This, I trust, has,
in some measure, been the case at Cambridge. Four of the many
gownsmen, that have been at times my hearers of late, have never
missed an opportunity of attending, and have been at much pains
to enquire the time and place of our meeting. After hearing,
they wish me a good eve; and, when absent, speak respectfully
of the word. Many others, too, having been convinced in their
judgments, approve of its being right; while others, filled with
the hottest madness, dress me up as a fool, and cudgel me as a
knave.
“The other night, the mob of the gown, which raised a second
of the town, ran so high at the house where we had a meeting,
that the constable, who is a friend, was forced to attend,
that no riot might ensue; but, as I thought to be attended with
constables was yet too high an honour for such a poor beginner,
I hope it was nothing more than what Christian prudence would
advise, to be more private the next time, and be contented
with a house full, attended only with a few gownsmen by way
of bringing up the rear.
“As for our Doctors, ’tis remarkable how very patiently they
bear with my conduct, as they now know that as I have but
a little while to stay, an expulsion from Cambridge would
hardly answer. They seem now to have come to the following
compromise――that I am to continue to be possessor of my
_professorship_, and to be still bishop over all their parishes,
provided I will be contented with houses or barns, and leave
them alone with quiet possession of their streets, fields,
and churches, and, by and by, they will be glad to sign my
_testimonium_, in order to get rid of me. Thus, in the end,
I hope, through grace, I shall be enabled to make good what
I promised to one, who asked me, when we enthusiasts intended
to stop. My answer was, ‘Not at all, till such time as we have
carried all before us.’
“I am in the greatest hope that the Lord will soon give dear
―――― a heart to help me. He is a steady, warm, lively Christian,
and grows prodigiously, and bids by far the fairest for the
predicted phœnix of any that are in this place.
“Do continue to be earnest in prayer to God for us. I want much
humbling. Spiritual pride, at present, is my grand temptation.
“Having not any spare time, I am forced to write thus in haste,
and conclude with subscribing myself your poorest son and
servant for Christ’s sake,
“ROWLAND HILL.”[611]
The foregoing letter is valuable for its facts, if for nothing else.
Rowland Hill was evincing courage hardly inferior to that of the first
Oxford Methodists. Without courting persecution, he was not afraid of
it. To be laughed at was not pleasant, but it was not heeded. Rowland
was no longer threatened with expulsion; but he was made the object of
collegiate ridicule. Eight months after this, he proceeded to his B.A.
degree, and his name appeared in the list of honours.
There can be no doubt that one of the best ways to propagate any
new creed or system is to implant it in the national Universities.
Whether designedly or otherwise, Methodism had thus been rooted at
both Oxford and Cambridge. The Heads of Houses at Oxford did their
utmost to destroy it. Those at Cambridge were not so ruthless. Why?
Was it because the expelled at Oxford were of low degree? and because
the Cambridge leader, Rowland Hill, was the son of an English baronet?
Perhaps it was.
Whitefield was generally jubilant. His path was often rough and
difficult, but he pursued it singing. The following was addressed to
Captain Joss:――
“LONDON, _May 17, 1768_.
“MY DEAR MAN,――Go forward! go forward! is the watchword of
the present day. Never mind the envious cry of elder brethren.
Had they been hearkened to, the Prodigal must never have come
home, nor Goliath’s head have been cut off. All temple-builders,
especially when called to work in the field, must endure, not
only the contradiction of sinners, but, the contradiction of
saints. Happy are they who are so deeply engaged in building as
not to have time to hearken to either. I long to come and lend
a helping, though feeble hand. But Welsh horses move slowly. If
the Welsh apostle comes, I purpose, in the Whitsun week, to make
a short excursion into Sussex and Kent, and then for Bristol.
“Blessed be God! the shout of a King is heard in our camps. Let
us march forward, with palms of victory in our hands, crying,
‘Hallelujah! The Lord God omnipotent reigneth!’”
A month after the date of this letter Whitefield was in Edinburgh; but
how he went, and why he went, no one seems to know. His popularity,
however, in the northern metropolis, was as great as ever. Hence he
writes:――
“EDINBURGH, _June 15, 1768_.
(TO MR. KEEN) “You would be delighted to see our Orphan
House Park assemblies; as large and attentive as ever.
Twenty-seven-year-old friends and spiritual children remember
the days of old. They are seeking after their first love, and
there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones. I cannot tell
you when I shall move. Probably within a fortnight.”
“EDINBURGH, _July 2, 1768_.
(TO MR. ANDREW KINSMAN) “My dear Timothy, I am much obliged to
you for your staying in London, till I return from Scotland. My
journey hither was certainly of God. Could I preach ten times a
day, thousands and thousands would attend. I have been confined
for a few days, but, on Monday or Tuesday next, hope to mount my
throne again. O to die there! Too great, too great an honour to
be expected! I thank my wife for her kind letter just received.
I am here only in danger of being hugged to death. Friends of
all ranks seem heartier and more friendly than ever. All is
of Grace! Grace! I go on in my old way, without turning to the
right hand or to the left. Providence says every day, ‘This is
the way; walk in it.’ Tender love to all, particularly to my
dear wife. Next post she may expect to hear from me.”
“EDINBURGH, _July 9, 1768_.
(TO MR. KEEN) “God be praised that all is so well in London.
Everything goes on better and better here; but I am so worn down
by preaching abroad, and by talking at home almost all the day
long, that I have determined to set off for London next Tuesday.
As you do not mention my wife, I suppose she is out of town.”
Exactly a month after this, Whitefield’s wife was dead. On his return
to London, she was attacked with fever, and died on August 9. Five
days afterwards, he preached her funeral sermon;[612] and, noticing
her fortitude, remarked,――“Do you remember my preaching in those
fields by the old stump of a tree? The multitude was great, and many
were disposed to be riotous. At first, I addressed them firmly; but
when a desperate gang drew near, with the most ferocious and horrid
imprecations and menaces, my courage began to fail. My wife was
then standing behind me, as I stood on the table. I think I hear her
now. She pulled my gown, and, looking up, said, ‘George, play the
man for your God.’ My confidence returned. I spoke to the multitude
with boldness and affection. They became still, and many were
deeply affected.”[613] A monument to the memory of Whitefield’s
wife was put up in Tottenham Court Road chapel, with the following
inscription:[614]――
“To the memory of Mrs. Whitefield, who, after thirty years’
strong and frequent manifestations of her Redeemer’s love, mixed
with strong and frequent strugglings against the buffetings of
Satan, and many sicknesses and indwellings of sin, was joyfully
released, August 9, 1769.”[615]
Whitefield submitted to his bereavement with Christian resignation. Two
days after he preached his wife’s funeral sermon, he wrote, in a letter
to Captain Joss:――“Let us work whilst it is day. The late unexpected
breach is a fresh proof that the night soon cometh, when no man can
work. Pray, where may I find that grand promise made to Abraham after
Sarah’s death? May it be fulfilled in you, whilst your Sarah is yet
alive! Sweet bereavements, when God Himself fills up the chasm! Through
mercy I find it so. Adieu.”
On Wednesday, August 24, Whitefield opened the College of the Countess
of Huntingdon at Trevecca, by preaching from the words: “In all places
where I record My name, I will come unto thee, and bless thee.” The
next day, he gave an exhortation to the students, from: “He shall be
great in the sight of the Lord.” And, on Sunday, August 28, preached
in the court before the College, to a congregation of thousands, from:
“Other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid, which is
Jesus Christ.”[616]
He then hurried back to London, where he arrived on September 1. His
health was broken, and he was again an invalid. In a letter, dated
September 6, he wrote to a sick and suffering friend:――
“Why should not one invalid write to another? What if we should
meet in our way to heaven unembodied,――freed from everything
that at present weighs down our precious and immortal souls? For
these two days past I have been almost unable to write: to-day,
I am, what they call better.”
Immediately after this, he ruptured a blood-vessel; and, on
September 12, remarked:――
“I have been in hopes of my departure. Through hard riding,
and frequent preaching, I have burst a vein. The flux is, in
a great measure, stopped; but rest and quietness are strictly
enjoined.”[617]
Rashly enough, Whitefield re-commenced preaching before the month was
ended. One of his friends, Mr. Middleton, died a triumphant death,
and Whitefield must preach a funeral sermon. His text was, “I have
chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.” The word “chosen” gave
him an opportunity to dwell upon the doctrine of election. “I know
no other doctrine,” said he, “that can truly humble man; for either
God must choose us, or we must choose God.” As usual, his sermon was
interspersed with anecdotes, one of which may be given here. “A noble
lady,” said Whitefield, “told me herself, that when she was crying on
account of one of her children’s death, her little daughter came to her
and said, ‘Mamma, is God Almighty dead, you cry so?’ The lady replied,
‘No.’ ‘Mamma, will you lend me your glove?’ said the child. The
mother let her take it; and, in due time, asked for it again. ‘Mamma!’
remarked the child, ‘shall I cry because you have taken back your
glove? And shall you cry because God has taken back my sister?’”[618]
A reference is made to the death and burial of Mr. Middleton in the
following extract from a letter:――
“London, September 26, 1768. For some days, the flux of blood
has stopped entirely. Praise the Lord, O my soul! Mr. Middleton
is now made perfectly whole. He was buried from the Tabernacle
last Wednesday evening, and a subscription is opened for his
four orphans.”
“Where is Mr. Middleton now?” cried Whitefield in the sermon just
mentioned. “Where is my dear fellow-labourer, that honest, that steady
man of God? If in the midst of torture, he could answer his daughter
and say, ‘Heaven upon earth! heaven upon earth!’ surely now that he
sees God, and sees Christ, he must cry, ‘Heaven in heaven!’”
A few weeks after this, Whitefield set out for Bath and Bristol; and
began to have a longing to go to his orphans at Bethesda. He writes:――
“Bristol, November 12, 1768. Bethesda lies upon my heart night
and day. Something must be determined speedily. As, I trust, my
eye is single, God will assuredly direct my goings. Hitherto, He
has helped. He will do so to the end. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”
By the end of November, he was back to London, and wrote:――
“November 30, 1768. Many thought I should not hold out from Bath
to London; but I cannot as yet go to Him whom my soul loveth.
Last Sunday, I creeped up to my gospel-throne; this evening,
the same honour is to be conferred upon me. Mr. Wright is going
with his brothers to Georgia to finish the wings of the intended
College, and repair the present buildings.”
Whitefield’s weakness continued; but he preached as often as he
was able. “I love the open bracing air;” said he, on December 14;
“preaching within doors, and especially to crowded auditories, is apt
to make us nervous.”
In another letter, dated “December 15,” he remarked:――
“You cannot tell how low my late excursion to Bath and Bristol
brought me. I would leave future events to God, and, like you
merchants, would improve the present _now_. Time is short;
eternity is endless. I have considered the affair of the picture.
What think you? A limner, who lately drew me, and hung the
picture in the Exhibition, asks forty guineas for a copy.[619] I
shall not mind him, but send a bust taken several years ago. It
shall be presented as a token of my hearty, hearty love to the
Orphan House at Edinburgh, and its never-to-be-forgotten friends.”
The first three months of the year 1769 were spent in London.
Whitefield was extremely feeble. Wesley wrote:――
“1769. Monday, January 9. I spent a comfortable and profitable
hour with Mr. Whitefield, in calling to mind the former times,
and the manner wherein God prepared us for a work which it had
not then entered into our hearts to conceive.”
And again:――
“Monday, February 27. I had one more agreeable conversation with
my old friend and fellow-labourer, George Whitefield. His soul
appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace;
and, unless God interposes with His mighty hand, he must soon
finish his labours.”[620]
Comparatively speaking, these three months were a time of inaction;
and yet, to Whitefield and others, they were a time of great enjoyment.
Lady Huntingdon was now in London, and, at her residence in Portland
Row, Cavendish Square, there were delightful re-unions of Methodist
clergymen. Whitefield, the two Wesleys, Romaine, Venn, and others, were
often assembled there, for preaching, sacramental administration, and
Christian fellowship. On the 10th of January, Whitefield administered
the sacrament, and Wesley preached on, “By grace are ye saved, through
faith.” A week afterwards, Romaine administered the Lord’s Supper,
and Whitefield preached. On February 28, Whitefield was present, but
wholly unable to take any active part in the services of the day. The
Rev. Messrs. Green and Elliott administered the sacrament and Romaine
preached. Sometimes Venn administered, and at others preached. When
he was able, Whitefield would preach in her ladyship’s drawing-room
on several days successively. At the last meeting, previous to the
Countess leaving London, Charles Wesley exhorted all present to “stand
fast in one mind and in one judgment;” Romaine administered the Lord’s
Supper; Venn and Whitefield prayed; and all sang the glorious doxology,
“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.”[621]
By the month of March, Whitefield’s health was considerably improved.
In letters, addressed to his old friend, Thomas Adams, he wrote:――
“London, March 11, 1769. My very dear Tommy. Through infinite
mercy, I am enabled to preach thrice a week, besides engaging
in other occasional exercises. The shout of the King of kings
is amongst us. After Easter, I hope to make an elopement to
Gloucestershire, and some western parts. I feel the loss of my
right hand[622] daily; but right hands and right eyes must be
parted with for Him, who ordereth all things well.”
“London, March 31, 1769. Through infinite mercy, I have been
enabled to preach four days successively. We have been favoured
with a blessed Passover season: all to make us shout louder,
‘Grace! Grace!’”
Whitefield still longed to get away to his beloved Bethesda. On
March 17, he wrote to Mr. Dixon, his manager there:――“I am every day,
every hour, almost every moment, thinking of, and preparing for America.
A pilgrim life to me is the sweetest on this side eternity.” No wonder
that Whitefield wished to be at his Orphan House. He had sent workmen
to erect the new buildings already mentioned, and, only eight days
after the date of this letter to Mr. Dixon, the foundation stones
were laid with as much ceremonial pomp as the colony of Georgia could
contribute. Hence the following letter, dated “Savannah, in Georgia,
March 29, 1769,” and published in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of June 2:――