The works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., Vol. 1 (of 6)

NOW tell me the truth, have not you called me ungrateful? If you have not, it is more than I deserve. I have nothing to plead but business, as an excuse for not answering your last kind letter. Well, forgive me this once, and if I offend so again, then call me ungrateful indeed. You order’d me to make no acknowledgments for kindnesses received. You’ll suffer me to ask another favour, if not to return any more thanks. Be so kind then, dear Sir, to desire your brother to write to me as soon as possible. My good friend, Sir John Philips, has promised me thirty pounds a year, if I’ll continue at Oxford, and yet I am in doubt, whether that annuity, and the being appointed to serve the prison here, will be a sufficient title for orders, therefore I beg both his advice and prayers. This is all I think that concerns outward affairs. But this solemn season naturally leads me to say a word or two on a more important subject, “the death and passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour.” If I mistake not, you commemorate it to-morrow at Crypt. And blessed be God, I do at Christ Church. And oh that we may commemorate it as we ought; that we may fix our thoughts intensely on that great examplar and all atoning blood; that we may grow in love with his meekness and patience, and endeavour daily to be conformed to his most blessed image. Surely we cannot grow angry at trifles, when the Son of God endured such bitter usage, without the least murmur or complaint. Surely, we cannot repine at any dispensations of Providence tho’ ever so severe, when we consider, how it pleased God to bruise our Saviour and lay upon him the iniquities of us all. Whatever befalls us, is but the due reward of our crimes; but this Redeemer had done nothing amiss: he was bruised for our iniquities. I could run through every part of our Lord’s sufferings, and shew how ♦necessary it is that we should sympathize with him in every particular. But as it now grows late, and I want a little time to prepare for to-morrow’s solemnity, you’ll excuse me if I now only paraphrase a little on the prayer of the thief on the cross. Lord remember us and pray for us; Lord remember us and rule us; Lord remember us and prepare a place for us. Lord remember us in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment. My due respects to all friends, and am sincerely

Yours,

G. W.

♦ ‘necesary’ replaced with ‘necessary’

LETTER XIII.

To Mr. S.

Gloucester, June 20, 1736.

My dear Friend,

THIS is a day much to be remember’d, O my soul! for about noon, I was solemnly admitted by good Bishop Benson, before many witnesses, into holy orders, and was, blessed be God, kept composed both before and after imposition of hands. I endeavoured to behave with unaffected devotion; but not suitable enough to the greatness of the office I was to undertake. At the same time, I trust, I answered to every question from the bottom of my heart, and heartily prayed that God might say Amen. I hope the good of souls will be my only principle of action. Let come what will, life or death, depth or heighth, I shall henceforwards live like one who this day, in the presence of men and angels, took the holy sacrament, upon the profession of being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon me that ministration in the church. This I began with reading prayers to the prisoners in the county ♦gaol. Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of stiling myself a prisoner of the Lord, I know not; but indeed, my dear friend, I can call heaven and earth to witness, that when the Bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a martyr for him, who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto him are all future events and contingences; I have thrown myself blindfold, and I trust without reserve, into his almighty hands; only I would have you observe, that till you hear of my dying for, or in my work, you will not be apprized of all the preferment that is expected by

Yours, &c.

G. W.

♦ ‘goal’ replaced with ‘gaol’

LETTER XIV.

To the Same.

Gloucester, June 23, 1736.

Dear Friend,

NEVER a poor creature set up with so small a stock. When the good Bishop, who ordained me on Sunday, gave out last year in his visitation charge, that he would ordain none under full three and twenty, my heart leap’d for joy, for then I thought my friends would not only be disappointed in their hope of having me enter into orders so soon; but that I should also have time (as was my intention) to make at least a hundred sermons, with which to begin my ministry; but this is so far from being the case, that I have not a single one by me, except that which I made for a small christian society, and which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman, to convince him how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching. He kept it for a fortnight, and then sent it back with a guinea for the loan of it; telling me he had divided it into two, and had preached it morning and evening to his congregation. With this sermon I intend to begin, God willing, next Sunday, not doubting, but that he, who increased a little lad’s loaves and fishes for the feeding of a great multitude, will from time to time, in the proper use of appointed means, supply me with spiritual food for whatever congregation he in his all-wise Providence shall be pleased to call me to. Help, help me, my dear friend, with your warmest addresses to the throne of grace, that I may not only find mercy, but grace to help in time of need. At present this is the language of my heart,

ACCORDING to my promise I am now seated to write you a farewell letter. For providence seems to demand my presence at Oxford immediately, and therefore I propose being there, God willing, on Monday night. But first let me return dear Mrs. H. my heartiest thanks for all past kindnesses, and assure her, that my incessant prayers shall never be wanting, that God may not forget her labour of love, in that she has so plentifully administered to me his unworthy servant, and yet does minister. To-morrow I am to preach at Crypt, but believe I shall displease some, being determined to speak against their assemblies. But I must tell them the truth, or otherwise I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ. Had providence so ordered, I should have been glad to have given you the cup of blessing; but since that favour is denied to me, I am resigned. However, I hope I shall not be unmindful of you, when I come near your place, nor be wanting in my prayers, that God would mercifully supply the want of outward means to you, by the operation of his Holy Spirit. I suppose you are, by this time, pretty well reconciled to Worcester, and that providence has shewn you that we may serve God acceptably in any place. Yes, Madam, let but our hearts be upright towards him, and by faith united to our dear Lord Jesus, we shall find that wherever we are, he will be with us, and we shall be with him. So far I had written on Saturday night; but being detained here in expectation of seeing my brother James, (who has not as yet been so good as his word) I believe I can now acquaint you that I must set out on Wednesday morning. I preached yesterday at Crypt, and was mercifully supported and assisted, for which great blessing, I hope you will return hearty thanks in my behalf. I trust Miss James continues her former earnest desires to be renewed in the spirit of her mind; for nothing will do but that. Indeed we may flatter ourselves, that we may go to heaven without undergoing the pangs of the new birth; but we shall certainly find ourselves desperately mistaken in the end. For till we are changed, till we are made meet for, we cannot in the nature of the thing be partakers of the heavenly inheritance with the saints in light. Let us therefore never cease praying and striving, till we find this blessed change wrought in us, and thereby we ourselves brought off from relying on any or all outward ordinances for salvation. Our good bishop Benson was pleased to give me another present of five guineas, a great supply for one who has not a guinea in the world. May the great Bishop of souls amply reward both him and you, for all favours conferred on

GLORY! glory! glory! be ascribed to an almighty triune God.—Last Sunday in the afternoon, I preached my first sermon in the church of St. Mary De Crypt, where I was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a large congregation together upon the occasion. The sight at first a little awed me; but I was comforted with a heart-felt sense of the divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the university. By these means I was kept from being daunted over much. As I proceeded, I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a croud of those, who knew me in my infant childish days, I trust, I was enabled to speak with some degree of gospel authority. Some few mocked, but most for the present seemed struck; and I have since heard, that a complaint had been made to the bishop, that I drove fifteen mad the first sermon. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday. Before then, I hope, my sermon upon He that is in Christ, is a new creature, will be compleated. Blessed be God, I now find freedom in writing. Glorious Jesus,

WHAT shall I say in defence of my seemingly ungrateful silence? Why, I hope, your kindness will accept of the reasons I gave in Mrs. Well’s letter, as a sufficient excuse for it, nothing but those, I assure you, being the cause of it. Well then, presuming on your kind pardon, give me leave, (after all acknowledgments of gratitude for kindnesses received) to bid you once more welcome to Gloucester, and to wish you and Mr. H. with all my soul, the greatest comfort, that either this or the other world can afford you. It’s true, indeed, we must not expect much comfort here, except what results from a good conviction that we are in a safe state, by being born again of the Holy Ghost. This, will afford us inexpressible satisfaction, even on this side the grave. It will give us ease in pain, because we know, if we bear it patiently, it will end in glory. This, will make us meek and gentle under crosses and disappointments, because we know we are taught to expect them, and that our blessed Master has gone before us in them. In short, it will make us easy in every station, because we have a general promise, that all things shall work for good to them that love God. But supposing we were to have no pleasure on this side of Heaven, yet the thoughts of being happy, and that too for all eternity hereafter, methinks should teach us to bear up under every calamity here, not only with submission, but a holy joy. Good God! the very idea of what we are to be in glory, transports me while I am writing. There, there, Mrs. H. we shall see the blessed Jesus, whom our souls have so eagerly thirsted after in this life, surrounded with glory, and attended with myriads of his holy angels, who will rejoice at our safe arrival to their happy mansions, and with repeated echoes welcome us to heaven. There, there, we shall not only see, but live with him and enjoy him too, not for a day, a month, a year, an age, but to all eternity. And who can tell the pleasure, comfort, peace, joy, delight, and transport, a glorified saint will feel in the possession of his wished-for, longed-for, ever adorable, ever gracious, blessed, beloved, triune God, and that for ever? Surely the happiness will be so great, that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the heart of man conceive the thousandth part thereof. And yet, great as it is, I not only wish, but have good hope through Christ, that not only you and Mr. H. but all my christian friends, and even I myself through grace, shall one day be partakers of it. The way and means we know. “If any one, says Christ, will come after me (to glory) let him renounce himself.” i. e. make his own will no principle of action, be no self-pleaser, “and take up his cross” patiently (whether of sickness or outward circumstances, &c.) “and then let him follow me,” follow me in a way of duty here, and he shall follow me to glory hereafter. May we all be such followers of the blessed Jesus! And why should we despair of becoming such? What is there in Christ’s doctrine or example but that we may all, through the assistance of the Holy Spirit, imitate him in? Suppose it does oblige us to be a little stricter than our neighbours? Suppose it does forbid us spending too much time in the seemingly-innocent entertainments of the age? Suppose it does command us to be constant and frequent in prayer, in watchings, fastings, and other acts of mortification? Suppose it does bid us not to indulge our unruly passions; but to learn of Christ to be meek, patient, and lowly? Suppose it does compel us to redeem our time, to fill up every day with proper duty and devotion? Yet, what in all this, that is terrible? Has not such a behaviour a natural tendency to make us calm, easy, peaceful, happy? And then, why should we refuse so easy a yoke, so light a burden? I am sure the little (alas! too, too little) time I have drawn in it, I have found it not galling but healing, and the longer I bear it, the easier and pleasanter it is. Let us then, Dear Mrs. H. chearfully take it upon us, and then

I Was agreeably detained, as you was pleased to term it, last Tuesday, in reading your kind letter, and had I not been assisted by the grace of God to receive every thing with an equal, undisturbed mind, perhaps the contents of it might have given me some small uneasiness. But religion quite changes the nature of man, and makes us to receive all the dispensations of providence with resignation and thankfulness. Of this, dearest Sir, I hope you have had an experimental proof, in bearing up with courage and resolution under those acute pains the Almighty was pleased to visit you with last Sunday, and with which, perhaps, his infinite wisdom and goodness may continue to visit you longer. My dear friend (if I mistake not) used to say, he was afraid God did not love him, because he did not chasten him. Behold then, now the hand of the Lord is upon you, not so much to punish, as to purify your soul. Not in anger but in love. Pray therefore in your easy intervals, that you may know, wherefore the Lord contendeth with you, and that you may not come cankered out of the furnace of affliction. Offer up every groan, every sigh, in the name of your dying, risen Redeemer, and doubt not, but they will be as prevalent as set times of prayer. Our being enabled to pray when sickness comes on us, doubtless, is to teach us the necessity of praying always, when we are in health. But, dear Mr. H. wants no such lessons, or excitements, I believe, to prayer. Methinks I could bear some of your pain for you, if that would give you comfort. But as it is impossible, O let me never cease most earnestly to beseech my heavenly Father, that he would sanctify this his fatherly correction to you, and that the sense of your weakness may add strength to your faith, and seriousness to your repentance. Poor Mr. Pauncefoot, I find, is visited in a far more grievous manner. Dear good man, surely the time of his dissolution (I should say of his coronation) draweth near. See, dear Mr. H. through what tribulations we must enter into glory. Be pleased to give my hearty love and thanks to him for his last kind letter. Beg him not to cease praying for me, unworthy as I am. And, I hope, I shall not be wanting in returning his kindness in the same manner. But alas, I have nothing to depend on, but the merits of a crucified Redeemer to have my poor petitions answered. But does dear Mrs. H. complain of deadness and coldness in devotion? Alas poor woman! let her not be disheartened. This is a complaint, which all the children of God have made. And we must take a great deal of pains with our hearts, must pray often and long, before we shall be able to pray well. And the only way I can think of, to shame ourselves out of deadness in prayer, is to censure and condemn, to humble and bewail ourselves for it every time we go upon our knees, at least every time we solemnly retire to converse with God. But why does dear Mrs. H. so much as think of omitting but once the receiving of the holy sacrament? Or if satan does put such thoughts in her head, why does not she repel them with the utmost abhorrence? Alas! should the devil gain his point here, would not the ridiculing world say, Mrs. H. began to build, but had not wherewith to finish. I have seen too many fatal instances of the inexpressible danger and sad consequences of leaving off any one means of grace, not to encourage Mrs. H. stedfastly to persevere in the good way she has begun; and would exhort her, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, to labour daily to mortify and subdue her corruptions, not wilfully to indulge herself in any ill habit, custom, or temper, and then assure herself, one time or another, Christ will be made known unto her in breaking of bread. But what shall I say, dear Sir, about Mr. W. &c. &c.? Alas! I find, they are all in the gall of bitterness, in the very bondage of iniquity, and all I can do, is to pity and pray for them. I find more and more, that where true religion is wanting, there is confusion and every evil work. But why is my honoured mother so solicitous about a few paultry things, that will quickly perish? Why will she not come and see her youngest son, who will endeavour to be a Joseph to her, before she dies? What makes my dear friend and his kind wife, give me another invitation to Gloucester? Alas! have I not wearied and been expensive enough to you already? I hope to send you, in a short time, two guineas towards paying for Mr. Henry’s Exposition. I wish I could spare more, but time will bring all things to pass. You see what a large letter I have written to you to make amends for the many short ones, I have sent lately. Though I believe you may say of mine, the quite contrary to what I say of yours; the shorter the better. My due respects to all friends, and believe me to be, in the utmost sincerity, Dearest Sir,

HEREWITH I have sent you seven pounds to pay for Mr. Henry’s Commentary. Dear Esqr. Thorold lately made me a present of ten guineas, so that now (for ever blessed be the divine goodness) I can send you more than I thought for. In time, I hope to pay the apothecary’s bill. If I forget your favours, I shall also forget my God. Say nothing of your receiving this money, only give thanks, give hearty thanks to our good and gracious God for his infinite, unmerited mercy to me, the vilest of the sons of men. Oh, dear Sir, may such instances of free grace strengthen your faith, and make you put your sole trust and confidence in the Lord your God. For he hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. Have not you experienced his loving kindness and mercy, in supporting you under your sickness? Methinks I feel you have. May you experience it more and more! Did not Christ give you the meeting last Sunday? I hope he did, nay I am sure he did, if our hearts were duly prepared by faith and repentance to receive him; but without an entire resignation of ourselves to God, and a thorough renunciation of all worldly and corrupt affections, all God’s ordinances will profit nothing. Your reverend brother’s kind letter I hope to answer soon, and to send him also a small parcel of books. The good Lord sanctify them to his own glory, and the good of souls. I find dear Mr. Pauncefoot is still afflicted, but bid him be of good cheer. In his latter end he may yet greatly increase. When we are weak, then are we strong. There is hope concerning his legacy. Let us in the mean while continue instant in prayer in behalf of this our dear and worthy friend. Good man! salute him kindly in my name. Beg his prayers for my unworthy self, and tell him I will write as soon as possible. The gospel flourishes at Oxon. Our society here, blessed be God, goes on well. I received the papers and thank you. How does dear Mrs. H.? The divine blessing rest on you both. My prayer night and day is, that you may be saved. Salute all friends by name. From Dearest Sir,

WHAT shall I say? I cannot be with you this week. Methinks, it would be almost sinful to leave Bristol at this critical juncture, there being now a prospect of making a very considerable collection for the poor Americans. The whole city seems to be alarmed. Churches are as full week days, as they use to be on Sundays, and on Sundays so full, that many, very many are obliged to go away, because they cannot come in. Oh pray, dear Mr. H. that God would always keep me humble, and fully convinced that I am nothing without him, and that all the good which is done upon earth, God doth it himself. Quakers, baptists, presbyterians, &c. all come to hear the word preached. Sanctify it, holy Father, to thy own glory and thy people’s good! I hope to be with you without fail on Tuesday morning. What letters you have, pray send to, Dear Sir,

WHY does not Mr. H. let me hear from or see him? Surely no evil has befallen either him or his family in their way to eternity. Why then tarry their horses? Why are they so long in coming to visit the country, which now looks like a second paradise, and which, to me, seems the pleasantest place I ever was in, through all my life? Surely I can never be thankful enough for being sent hither; people flock to hear the word of God from the neighbouring villages, as well as our own. They gladly receive me into their houses, and I have no let or hindrance to my ministerial business; and what is still better, God has opened my heart, and enabled me to finish a sermon on “Remember thy Creator, &c.”—If you will come on Sunday you may hear it perhaps.—Your sister-in-law talks of being here again on Friday; but I believe it will be more agreeable, if you chuse another opportunity, that we may have our own conversation. I hope that dear Mrs. H. took nothing ill, that was in my last. I meant it well, and wrapt up the pill in as much sugar as I could. My hearty love to her and Miss J. Poor Mr. M. and Mr. W. will set out to morrow, I suppose. The Lord prosper them and be with them wherever they go, and make them good soldiers of Jesus Christ, and finally bring them and us to his heavenly kingdom! So wishes, so prays,

BY the particular good providence of God, I got safe to Bristol yesterday by ten in the morning, and was received (unworthy as I am) with the utmost civility and kindness. I have learnt from hence the benefit of setting out on our journey to eternity betimes, and what a pleasing reflection it will be to look back, though not to depend, on one’s past life, and find a great deal of work done in a little time. The people here are exceeding kindly affected towards me; and, I hope, I have seen the effects of my doctrine in the reformation of some of their lives. Remember me always in your prayers. Accept my hearty thanks for all favours, and believe me to be,

IF you remember, I promised you a long and particular letter when I was at Gloucester, and nothing hinders but I may now perform it. Permit me then first, to begin this, as I would all my letters, with thanks to you and kind Mr. H. for your inexpressible favours conferred on the most unworthy of my master’s servants; and, withall, to assure you, how incessantly I pray, that the God of all grace and mercy, for the sake of his dear Son Jesus Christ, would reward you in spirituals, for what you have done to me in temporals, and feed your soul with his heavenly graces, as plentifully as you have fed my body with nourishing food. But as, in all probability, this will be the last letter I shall write to dear Mrs. H. before I sail, what can I fill the remainder with better, than by exhorting you, to lay aside every weight, particularly the sin that does most easily beset you, and so run with patience the race set before you. I say, the sin that most easily besets; for unless we lay the ax to the root, unless we sincerely resolve in the strength of Jesus Christ to subdue our favourite, our darling passion, and spare not one Agag, though ever so engaging, ever so beautiful, all our other sacrifices will avail us nothing. Suppose therefore, for instance, Passion be our greatest foible. A sincere person will never cease night or day, till he is made meek and lowly in heart. But if it be asked, how he shall do this? I answer, first, let him consider how odious it is in the sight of God, and how contrary to the lamb-like meekness of the holy Jesus. Secondly, Let him reflect how troublesome it must be to others, (for alas what unnecessary disorders, what needless troubles doth the passionate person occasion to all that are round about him?) Thirdly, Let him consider how exceeding hurtful and unpleasant it is to himself; how it ruffles and discomposes his mind; unfits him for every holy duty, and in short makes him a torment to himself and a burden to others. Well, after he has thus seen the deformity of his darling passion, the next enquiry must be, how to get the mastery over it. The first and grand thing, is to get a true and lively faith in Christ Jesus, seeking for it by earnest prayer. To this, we must have recourse in all our struggles; for it’s God alone, who can subdue and govern the unruly wills of sinful men, and it is his grace which alone can enable us to mortify our corrupt passions. But then we must take care not to rest in general petitions for conquering this or that corruption; but must descend to particulars. For instance, supposing I am angry with a servant or husband without a cause; What must I do? Why, take the very first opportunity of retiring from the world, and after having bewailed my being angry, earnestly beseech the Lord of all power and might to enable me to withstand such and such a provocation for the future, and notwithstanding I should fail again and again in the very same instance, yet I would again and again renew my petitions to the throne of grace, and never cease praying and striving, till instead of a blind, perverse, troublesome passion, I had the lovely, calm, and delightful grace of meekness and humility planted in its room. Now would dear Mrs. H. take some such method as this (for I suppose by this time, she guesses to whom all this points) I dare say, she would quickly find as much difference in herself as there is between a wise man and an idiot.—And that she may both begin and succeed in this method, is the earnest prayer of, Dear Mrs. H.

I Thank you for your last kind letter and kinder wishes. May they be turned into prayers, and heard at the throne of grace. Blessed be God for your new correspondence with our Oxford friends. I hope you will be instrumental to build each other up in the knowledge and fear of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. God still works powerfully here. People flock more than ever, and shew the sincerity of their hearts by giving liberally to the poor. I have preached four charity sermons within this little while, and the collections were larger than ever were known. Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me; but unto thy Name be the glory and praise thereof! I am glad, since ♦it’s the divine will, that my brother is coming up, though my ability as to temporals you know is small. But I have an all-sufficient God to apply to in all emergencies. I am sorry ♠for my brother’s loss; but I fear he must have greater, before he is awakened out of his spiritual lethargy. God sanctify all his dispensations to him. I know not why we go not to Georgia; but there is no likelihood of it yet, as I see. Friends universally dissuade me from going by myself; but I hope it will not be long now, before we shall launch into the deep. To-night I preach again at Bow church, before the religious societies. God opens my heart to compose freely. O praise him, dear Mr. H. for this and all his other mercies, conferred on, Dear Sir,

Your and Mrs. H.’s affectionate friend,

G. W.