Not that offspring of hell, which _the world calls_ prudence, which is
mere craft, cunning, dissimulation: but with that _wisdom from above_,
which our Lord peculiarly recommends, to all who would promote his
kingdom upon earth. _Be ye_ therefore _wise as serpents_, while ye are
_harmless as doves_. This wisdom will instruct you, how to suit your
words and whole behaviour, to the persons with whom you have to do,
to the time, place, and all other circumstances. It will teach you to
cut off occasion of offence, even from those who seek occasion, and to
do things of the most offensive nature, in the least offensive manner
that is possible.
5. Your _manner of speaking_, particularly to offenders, should be
at all times deeply _serious_, (lest it appear like insulting or
triumphing over them) rather inclining to _sad_: shewing that you
pity them, for what they do, and sympathize with them in what they
suffer. Let your _air_ and _tone_ of voice, as well as words, be
_dispassionate, calm, mild_: yea, where it would not appear like
dissimulation, even _kind_ and _friendly_. In some cases, where it
will probably be received as it is meant, you may _profess_ the
_good-will_ you bear them: but at the same time, (that it may not be
thought to proceed from fear, or any wrong inclination) professing
your _intrepidity_ and inflexible _resolution_, to oppose and punish
vice to the uttermost.
V. 1. It remains only to make some application of what has been said,
partly to you who are already engaged in this work, partly to all that
fear God, and more especially to them that love as well as fear him.
With regard to you, who are already engaged in this work, the first
advice I would give you is, calmly and deeply to consider, the nature
of your undertaking. Know what you are about; be throughly acquainted
with what you have in hand. Consider the objections which are made to
the whole of your undertaking. And before you proceed, be satisfied
that those objections have no real weight. Then may every man act, as
he is fully persuaded in his own mind.
2. I advise you, secondly, be not in haste, to increase your number.
And in adding thereto, regard not wealth, rank, or any outward
circumstance. Only regard the qualifications above described. Enquire
diligently, Whether the person proposed be of an _unblamable_ carriage,
and whether he be a man of _faith, courage, patience, steddiness_?
Whether he be a _lover_ of God and man? If so, he will add to your
strength as well as number. If not, you will lose by him more than
you gain. For you will displease God. And be not afraid to purge out
from among you, any who do not answer the preceding character. By thus
lessening your number, you will increase your strength: you will be
_vessels meet for your master’s use_.
3. I would, thirdly, advise you, narrowly to observe from what
_motive_, you at any time act or speak. Beware that your intention
be not stained, with any regard either to profit or praise. Whatever
you do, _do it to the Lord_, as the servants of Christ. Do not aim at
pleasing yourself in any point, but pleasing him whose you are, and
whom you serve. Let your eye be single, from first to last: eye God
alone in every word and work.
4. I advise you, in the fourth place, see that you do every thing
in a right _temper_: with lowliness, and meekness, with patience and
gentleness, worthy the gospel of Christ. Take every step trusting in
God, and in the most tender, loving spirit you are able. Mean time
_watch always_, against all hurry and dissipation of spirit, and _pray
always_ with all earnestness and perseverance, that your faith fail
not. And let nothing interrupt that _spirit of sacrifice_, which you
make of all you have and are, of all you suffer and do, that it may be
an offering of a sweet smelling savour to God through Jesus Christ.
5. As to the _manner_ of acting and speaking, I advise you to do it
with all innocence and simplicity, prudence and seriousness. Add to
these all possible calmness and mildness; nay, all the tenderness
which the case will bear. You are not to behave as butchers or hangmen,
but as surgeons rather; who put the patient to no more pain than
is necessary, in order to the cure. For this purpose, each of _you_
likewise has need of “a lady’s hand with a lion’s heart.” So shall
many even of them you are constrained to punish, _glorify_ God _in
the day of visitation_.
6. I exhort all of you who fear God, as ever you hope to find mercy
at his hands, as you dread being found (tho’ you knew it not) _even
to fight against_ God: do not on any account, reason, or pretence
whatsoever, either directly or indirectly, oppose or hinder so
merciful a design, and one so conducive to his glory. But this is not
all: if you are lovers of mankind, if you long to lessen the sins and
miseries of your fellow-creatures: can you satisfy yourselves, can
you be clear before God, by barely not opposing it? Are not _you_
also bound by the most sacred ties, _as you have opportunity to do
good to all men_? And is not here an opportunity of doing good to
many, even good of the highest kind? In the name of God then, embrace
the opportunity. Assist in doing this good, if no otherwise, yet by
your earnest prayers, for them who are immediately employed therein.
Assist them, according to your ability, to defray the expence which
necessarily attends it, and which without the assistance of charitable
persons, would be a burden they could not bear. Assist them, if you
can without inconvenience, by quarterly or yearly subscriptions. At
least, assist them _now_: use the present hour, doing what God puts
into your heart. Let it not be said, that you saw your brethren
labouring for God, and would not help them with one of your fingers.
In this way, however, _come to the help of the Lord, to the help of
the Lord, against the mighty_!
7. I have an higher demand upon _you_ who love, as well as fear God.
He whom you fear, whom you love, has qualified _you_, for promoting
his work in a more excellent way. Because you love God, you love your
brother also: you love not only your friends, but your enemies; not
only the friends, but even the enemies of God. You have _put on, as
the elect of_ God, _lowliness, gentleness, long-suffering_. You have
faith in God, and in Jesus Christ whom he hath sent: faith which
overcometh the world. And hereby you conquer both evil shame, and
that fear of man which _bringeth a snare_: so that you can _stand
with boldness before them that despise you and make no account of
your labours_. Qualified then as you are, and armed for the fight,
will _you_ be _like the children of Ephraim, who being harnessed, and
carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle_? Will _you_ leave
a few of your brethren to stand alone, against all the hosts of the
aliens? O say not, “This is too heavy a cross: I have not strength
or courage to bear it.” True; not of yourself. But you that believe,
_can do all things through Christ strengthening_ you. _If thou canst
believe, all things are possible to him that believeth._ No cross
is too heavy for _him_ to bear, knowing that they that _suffer with
him, shall reign with him_. Say not, “Nay, but I cannot bear to be
_singular_.” Then you cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. No one
enters there but thro’ the _narrow way_. And all that walk in this,
are singular. Say not, “But I cannot endure the reproach, the odious
name of an _informer_.” And did any man ever save his soul, that was
not _a by-word, and a proverb of reproach_? Neither canst thou ever
save thine, unless thou art willing, that men should _say all manner
of evil of thee_. Say not, “But if I am active in this work, I shall
lose not only my reputation, but my friends, my customers, my business,
my livelihood, so that I shall be brought to poverty.” Thou shalt
not: thou canst not: it is absolutely impossible, unless God himself
chuseth it. For his _kingdom ruleth over all_, and _the very hairs of
thy head are all numbered_. But if the wise, the gracious God chuse
it for thee, wilt thou murmur or complain? Wilt thou not rather say,
_The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it_? If you
_suffer for Christ, happy are you: the Spirit of glory and of Christ
shall rest upon you_. Say not, “I would suffer all things, but my wife
will not consent to it. And certainly a man ought to _leave father
and mother_ and all, _and cleave to his wife_.” True, all――but God;
all――but Christ. But he ought not to leave _him_ for his wife. He is
not to _leave any duty undone_, for the dearest relative. Our Lord
himself hath said in this very sense, _If any man loveth father, or
mother, or wife, or children, more than me, he is not worthy of me!_
Say not, “Well, I would forsake all for Christ. But one duty must not
hinder another. And this would frequently hinder my attending public
worship.” Sometimes it probably would. _Go_ then _and learn what that
meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice_. And whatever is lost,
by shewing this mercy, God will repay sevenfold into thy bosom. Say
not, “But I shall hurt my own soul. I am a young man: and by taking up
loose women, I should expose my self to temptation.” Yes, if you did
this in your own strength, or for your own pleasure. But that is not
the case. You trust in God: and you aim at pleasing him only. And if
he should call you even into the midst of a burning fiery furnace,
_though thou walkest thro’ the fire thou shalt not be burnt, neither
shall the flames kindle upon thee_. “True; if _he called me_ into the
furnace. But I do not see that I am called to this.” Perhaps thou art
not willing to see it. However, if thou wast not called before, I call
thee _now_, in the name of Christ: take up thy cross and follow him.
Reason no more with flesh and blood, but now resolve to cast in thy
lot, with the most despised, the most infamous of his followers, the
filth and off-scouring of the world. I call thee in particular, who
didst once strengthen their hands, but since art drawn back. Take
courage! Be strong! Fulfil their joy, by returning with heart and hand.
Let it appear, thou _departedst for a season, that they might receive
thee again for ever_. O be _not disobedient to the heavenly calling_!
And as for all of you, who know whereunto ye are called, count ye
all things loss, so ye may save one soul, for which Christ died. And
therein _take no thought for the morrow_, but _cast all your care on
him that careth for you. Commit_ your souls, bodies, substance, all,
to him, _as unto a merciful and faithful Creator_.
N. B. After this Society had subscribed several years, and done
unspeakable good, it was wholly destroyed, by a verdict given
against it in the King’s Bench, with three hundred pounds
damages. I doubt a severe account remains for the witnesses,
the jury, and all who were concerned in that dreadful affair.
SERMON LIII.¹
¹ On the death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. Preached at
the Chappel in Tottenham-Court-Road, and at the Tabernacle
near Moorfields, on Sunday, November 18, 1770.
NUMB. xxiii. 10.
_Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be
like his!_
1. _LET my last end be like his!_ How many of you join in this
wish? Perhaps there are few of you who do not, even in this numerous
congregation. And O that this wish may rest upon your minds! That it
may not die away, till your souls also are lodged _where the wicked
cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest_!
2. An elaborate exposition of the text, will not be expected on this
occasion. It would detain you too long from the sadly-pleasing thought
of your beloved brother, friend, and pastor; yea, and father too:
for how many are here whom he hath _begotten in the Lord_? Will it
not then be more suitable to your inclinations, as well as to this
solemnity, directly to speak of this man of God, whom you have so
often heard speaking in this place? _The end of whose conversation_
ye know, _Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever_.
And may we not,
_First_, Observe a few particulars of his life and death.
_Secondly_, Take some view of his character. And,
_Thirdly_, Inquire how we may improve this awful providence, his
sudden removal from us.
I. 1. We may, in the first place, observe a few particulars of his
life and death. He was born at _Glocester_, in _December_, 1714, and
put to a Grammar-school there, when about twelve years old. When he
was seventeen he began to be seriously religious, and served God to
the best of his knowledge. About eighteen he removed to the university,
and was admitted at _Pembroke_-College in _Oxford_. And about a year
after, he became acquainted with the _Methodists_, (so called) whom
from that time he loved as his own soul.
2. By them he was convinced, that we _must be born again_, or outward
religion will profit us nothing. He joined with them in fasting on
_Wednesdays_ and _Fridays_, in visiting the sick and the prisoners,
and in gathering up the very fragments of time, that no moment might
be lost. And he changed the course of his studies, reading chiefly
such books as entered into the heart of religion, and led directly to
an experimental knowledge of Jesus Christ, and him crucified.
3. He was soon tried as with fire. Not only his reputation was lost,
and some of his dearest friends forsook him; but he was exercised
with inward trials, and those of the severest kind. Many nights he
lay sleepless upon his bed; many days prostrate on the ground. But
after he had groaned several months under _the Spirit of bondage_,
God was pleased to remove the heavy load, by giving him _the Spirit
of adoption_, enabling him, through a living faith, to lay hold on
_the Son of his love_.
4. However, it was thought needful, for the recovery of his health,
which was much impaired, that he should go into the country. He
accordingly went to _Glocester_, where God enabled him to awaken
several young persons. These soon formed themselves into a little
society, and were some of the first fruits of his labour. Shortly
after he began to read twice or thrice a week to some poor people in
the town, and every day to read to, and pray with the prisoners in
the county ♦gaol.
♦ ‘goal’ replaced with ‘gaol’
5. Being now about twenty-one years of age, he was solicited to enter
into holy orders. Of this he was greatly afraid, being deeply sensible
of his own insufficiency. But the bishop himself sending for him,
and telling him, “Tho’ I had purposed to ordain none under three and
twenty, yet I will ordain _you_ whenever you come;” and several other
providential circumstances concurring, he submitted, and was ordained
on _Trinity-Sunday_, 1736. The next _Sunday_ he preached to a crouded
auditory, in the church wherein he was baptized. The week following he
returned to _Oxford_, and took his Batchelor’s degree. And he was now
fully employed, the care of the prisoners and the poor lying chiefly
on him.
6. But it was not long before he was invited to _London_, to serve the
cure of a friend going into the country. He continued there two months,
lodging in the _Tower_, reading prayers in the chappel twice a week,
catechizing and preaching once, beside daily visiting the soldiers in
the barracks and the infirmary. He also read prayers every evening at
_Wapping_-chappel, and preached at _Ludgate_-prison every _Tuesday_.
While he was here, letters came from his friends in _Georgia_, which
made him long to go and help them. But not seeing his call clear, at
the appointed time he returned to his little charge at _Oxford_; where
several youths met daily at his room, to _build up each other in their
most holy faith_.
7. But he was quickly called from hence again to supply the cure of
_Dummer_ in _Hampshire_. Here he read prayers twice a day, early in
the morning, and in the evening, after the people came from work. He
also daily catechized the children, and visited from house to house.
He now divided the day into three parts, alloting eight hours for
sleep and meals, eight for study and retirement, and eight for reading
prayers, catechizing, and visiting the people.――Is there a more
excellent way for a servant of Christ and his church? If not, Who will
_go and do likewise_?
8. Yet his mind still ran on going abroad. And being now fully
convinced he was called of God thereto, he set all things in order,
and in _January_ 1737, went down to take leave of his friends in
_Glocester_. It was in this journey that God began to bless his
ministry in an uncommon manner. Wherever he preached, amazing
multitudes of hearers flocked together, in _Glocester_, in
_Stonehouse_, in _Bath_, in _Bristol_: so that the heat of the
churches was scarce supportable. And the impressions made on the minds
of many, were no less extraordinary. After his return to _London_,
while he was detained by General _Oglethorpe_, from week to week, and
from month to month, it pleased God to bless his word still more. And
he was indefatigable in his labour: generally on _Sunday_ he preached
four times, to exceeding large auditories; beside reading prayers
twice or thrice, and walking to and fro, often ten or twelve miles.
9. On _December_ 28, he left _London_. It was on the 29th that he
first preached without notes. _December_ 30, he went on board; but it
was above a month before they cleared the land. One happy effect of
their very slow passage, he mentions in _April_ following: “Blessed
be God, we now live very comfortably in the great cabbin. We talk of
little else but God and Christ: and scarce a word is heard among us
when together, but what has reference to our fall in the first, and
our new birth in the second _Adam_.” It seems likewise to have been a
peculiar providence, that he should spend a little time at _Gibraltar_;
where both citizens and soldiers, high and low, young and old,
acknowledged the day of their visitation.
10. From _Sunday_, _May_ 7, 1738, till the latter end of _August_
following, he _made full proof of his ministry_ in _Georgia_,
particularly at _Savannah_: he read prayers and expounded twice a
day and visited the sick daily. On _Sunday_ he expounded at five in
the morning; at ten read prayers and preached, and at three in the
afternoon: and at seven in the evening expounded the church-catechism.
How much easier is it for our brethren in the ministry, either
in _England_, _Scotland_, or _Ireland_, to find fault with such
a labourer in our Lord’s vineyard, than to tread in his steps?
11. It was now that he observed the deplorable condition of many
children here; and that God put into his heart the first thought
of founding an _Orphan-house_: for which he determined to raise
contributions in _England_, if God should give him a safe return
thither. In _December_ following he did return to _London_: and on
_Sunday_, _January_ the 14th, 1739, he was ordained priest at
_Christ-Church_, _Oxford_. The next day he came to _London_ again:
and on _Sunday_ the 21st preached twice. But though the churches
were large, and crouded exceedingly, yet many hundreds stood in the
churchyard, and hundreds more returned home. This put him upon the
first thought of preaching in the open air. But when he mentioned it
to some of his friends, they judged it to be mere madness. So he did
not carry it into execution, till after he had left _London_. It was
on _Wednesday_, _February_ 21, that finding all the church-doors to be
shut in _Bristol_, (beside that no church was able to contain one half
of the congregation) at three in the afternoon he went to _Kingswood_,
and preached abroad, to near two thousand people. On _Friday_ he
preached there to four or five thousand; and on _Sunday_ to (it was
supposed) ten thousand. The number continually increased all the time
he stayed at _Bristol_. And a flame of holy love was kindled, which
will not easily be put out. The same was afterwards kindled in various
parts of _Wales_, of _Glocestershire_, and _Worcestershire_. Indeed
♦wherever he went, God abundantly confirmed the word of his messenger.
♦ ‘whereever’ replaced with ‘wherever’
12. On _Sunday_, _April_ 29, he preached the first time in
_Moorfields_, and on _Kennington_-common. And the thousands of
hearers were as quiet as they could have been in a church. Being again
detained in _England_ from month to month, he made little excursions
into several counties, and received the contributions of willing
multitudes, for an Orphan-house in _Georgia_. The embargo which was
now laid on the shipping, gave him leisure for more journies, through
various parts of _England_, for which many will have reason to bless
God to all eternity. At length, on _August_ 14, he embarked. But
he did not land in _Pensylvania_ till _October_ 30. Afterwards
he went through _Pensylvania_, the _Jerseys, New-York, Maryland,
Virginia, North_ and _South Carolina_, preaching all along to immense
congregations, with full as great effect as in _England_; on _January_
10, 1740, he arrived at _Savannah_.
13. _January_ 29, he added three desolate orphans to near twenty which
he had in his house before. The next day he laid out the ground for
the house, about ten miles from _Savannah_. _February_ 11, he took
in four orphans more, and set out for _Frederica_, in order to fetch
orphans that were in the southern parts of the colony. In his return
he fixt a school, both for children and grown persons, at _Darien_,
and took four orphans thence. _March_ 25, he laid the first stone of
the Orphan-house, to which, with great propriety, he gave the name
of _Bethesda_: a work for which the children yet unborn shall praise
the Lord. He had now about forty orphans, so that there were near
an hundred mouths to be fed daily. But he was _careful for nothing_,
casting his care on him who _feedeth the young ravens that call upon
him_.
14. In _April_ he made another tour through _Pensylvania_, the
_Jerseys_, and _New-York_. Incredible multitudes flocked to hear,
among whom were abundance of negroes. In all places the greater part
of the hearers were affected to an amazing degree. Many were deeply
convinced of their lost state; many truly converted to God. In some
places thousands cried out aloud; many as in the agonies of death.
Most were drowned in tears; some turned pale as death; others were
wringing their hands; others lying on the ground; others sinking
into the arms of their friends; almost all lifting up their eyes,
and calling for mercy.
15. He returned to _Savannah_, _June_ 5. The next evening, during the
public service, the whole congregation, young and old, were dissolved
in tears. After service, several of the parishioners, and all his
family, particularly the little children, returned home crying along
the street, and some could not help praying aloud. The groans and
cries of the children continued all night, and great part of the next
day.
16. In _August_ he set out again, and through various provinces came
to _Boston_. While he was here, and in the neighbouring places, he was
extremely weak in body. Yet the multitudes of hearers were so great,
and the effects wrought on them so astonishing, as the oldest men
then alive in the town had never seen before. The same power attended
his preaching at _New-York_; particularly on _Sunday_, _November_ 2.
Almost as soon as he began, crying, weeping, and wailing, were to be
heard on every side. Many sunk down to the ground, cut to the heart:
and many were filled with divine consolation. Toward the close of his
journey he made this reflection: “It is the seventy-fifth day since I
arrived at _Rhode-Island_, exceeding weak in body. Yet God has enabled
me to preach an hundred and seventy-five times in public, beside
exhorting frequently in private. Never did God vouchsafe me greater
comforts: never did I perform my journies with less fatigue, or see
such a continuance of the divine presence in the congregations to
whom I preached.” In _December_ he returned to _Savannah_, and in the
_March_ following arrived in _England_.
17. You may easily observe, that the preceding account is chiefly
extracted from his own journals, which, for their artless and
unaffected simplicity, may vie with any writings of the kind. And
how exact a specimen is this of his labours both in _Europe_ and
_America_, for the honour of his beloved Master, during the thirty
years that followed! As well as of the uninterrupted shower of
blessings wherewith God was pleased to succeed his labours! Is it
not much to be lamented, that any thing should have prevented his
continuing this account, till at least near the time when he was
called by his Lord to enjoy the fruit of his labour?――If he has left
any papers of this kind, and his friends account me worthy of the
honour, it would be my glory and joy to methodize, transcribe, and
prepare them for the public view.