SECOND VISIT TO AMERICA.

August 1739 to March 1741.

Marvellous were the scenes which Whitefield had witnessed during the last few months. If ministerial success were a proof that the man thus honoured ought to remain where he is, Whitefield ought to have remained in England. He had, however, formally accepted the distant living of Savannah. The Trustees of Georgia had cheerfully acceded to all his wishes. He had collected considerable sums of money for the erection of his contemplated Orphanage. He had promised the people of Savannah that he would return to them. People on both sides the Atlantic expected this. On the other hand, and despite the ribald persecutions to which he had been subjected, he had strong inducements to stay at home. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, during the last half-year, had been converted by his ministry, and needed pastoral attention. The crowds that flocked to hear him had not at all diminished, but were as great as ever. Multitudes wished to keep him. To fill his place was extremely difficult, perhaps impossible. But solemn promises had been made; and, in accordance with these, public, as well as private, arrangements had taken place; all rendering a return to Georgia an imperative necessity. No doubt, Whitefield was anxious that the great work, which had been begun in London and elsewhere, should be conserved, and be carried on; and he seems to have requested Charles Wesley to act as his successor. At all events, Charles wrote as follows:—

"August 10, 1739.

Dear George,—I forgot to mention the most material occurrence at Plaistow; namely, that a clergyman was there convinced of sin. He stood under me, and appeared, throughout my discourse, under the strongest perturbation of mind. In our return, we were much delighted with an old spiritual Quaker, who is clear in justification by faith only. At Marylebone, a footman was convinced of more than sin; and now waits with confidence for all the power of faith. Friend Keen seems to have experience, and is right in the foundation.

"I cannot preach out on the week-days, for the expense of coach; nor accept of dear Mr. Seward's offer; to which I should be less backward, would he take my advice. But while he is so lavish of his Lord's goods, I cannot consent that this ruin should, in any degree, seem to be under my hand.

"I am continually tempted to leave off preaching, and hide myself like J. Hutchins. I should then be freer from temptation, and at leisure to attend to my own improvement. God continues to work by me, but not in me, that I can perceive. Do not reckon upon me, my brother, in the work God is doing: for I cannot expect He should long employ one who is ever longing and murmuring to be discharged. I rejoice in your success, and pray for its increase a thousand-fold."[268]

Four days after the date of this letter, Whitefield embarked for America. His party consisted of seventeen persons, including Mr. Seward and himself.[269] One of these was Joseph Periam, whom Whitefield had rescued from a madhouse. Another was Mr. Gladman, a captain, whose ship, during Whitefield's first visit to America, had been thrown upon a sandbank, near the Gulf of Florida, where he and his crew had to exist, as they best could, for thirty days, when they launched a raft; and, after floating about a hundred and forty leagues, came to Tybee Island, near Savannah. Whitefield shewed the captain kindness. They returned to England in the same ship. The man was converted. Many situations were offered him; but he declined them all, gave himself to the work of God, and was now one of Whitefield's companions to Georgia.

The voyage was of eleven weeks' continuance; but was not marked by any notable occurrence. Whitefield had public prayers twice a day. On Sundays, he preached and administered the sacrament. Sometimes, he and his friends held a love-feast; and, on several occasions, he allowed a Quaker to preach in his cabin. Often he suffered deep depression, and was profoundly humbled by revelations of his sinfulness in the sight of God. A large portion of his time was spent in writing letters, so that, when he landed, he had more than sixty ready for the post.

One of these, now for the first time published, was addressed to Mr. Blackwell, the Lombard Street banker:—[270]

"On Board the 'Elizabeth,' going to the Downs,

"August 16, 1739.

"Dear Mr. Blackwell,—I must write you, though so lately parted from you. I know the temptations which surround you. If I love you, I must watch over your soul. Perhaps, ere now, your father is launched into eternity. Yet a little while, you and I must follow. Oh, let us live the life of the righteous, that our future state may be like his. Nothing but a living faith in Jesus Christ can support us in a dying hour. What would the self-righteous Pharisees of this generation give for this pearl of inestimable price when God takes away their souls? Oh, my dear friend, it is worth being laughed at. It is worth ten thousand worlds. You will not think much then of renouncing one world for it. You have put your hand to the plough: I know you will scorn to look back. Your carnal relatives will do their utmost to make you ashamed of the cross of Christ; but be not ashamed of it, for it is the power of God unto salvation. Neither be ashamed of His disciples, though men of low degree, and accounted fools for His sake. No, rather choose to suffer affliction with His people; for, if we suffer, we shall also reign with Him. Oh, let your delight be with the saints that are in the earth, and with them that excel in virtue. You are blessed with many such. I beseech you, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, forsake not the assembling of yourselves together. And, as in my presence, so in my absence, see that you work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Let Jesus Christ be the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end of all your thoughts, words, and actions. Suffer Him to work His whole will in, by, and upon you. And fail not writing to, and praying for,

"Ever, ever yours,
"George Whitefield."

Extracts from a few other letters, written during the voyage to America, may be useful. The first was addressed to Charles Wesley:—

"Honoured and dear Sir,—God has been pleased to send us a comfortable passage. The Orphan House accounts come right within £10.

I have great assurances given me that it will be a Pietas Georgiensis, equally remarkable with the Pietas Hallensis. I shall continue in Georgia above six months. If Mr. Hutchins would come to supply my place, I would keep the parsonage of Savannah. Otherwise, I will resign all but the Orphan House. I have read Guise and Doddridge on the Evangelists, and written to both. The former I think excellent; the latter, ingenious, elaborate, but too superficial. Neal's 'Lives of the Puritans' have been of use. I think they held the truth as it is in Jesus. The Quakers have set us an example of patient, resolute suffering, as the best means to weary our enemies. I want the Lives of Luther and Calvin, to get some short account of the history of the Reformation. At my return, I trust I shall speak boldly, as I ought to speak. The account of my infant years was written by the will of God. Pray, let it be published, without any material diminution or addition. He who hideth his sins shall not prosper. My Letter to the Religious Societies I give to the schools at Bristol. The Lord prosper the work of your hands upon you! I have written to the Bishop of Gloucester, and have delivered my soul, by meekly telling him of his faults. I long to hear how affairs go on in England. Are you yet the Lord's prisoner? If they make any laws whatsoever, I trust notwithstanding I shall preach with all boldness. Oh, dear sir, pray publicly, as well as in private, for your unworthy, loving servant,

"George Whitefield."[271]

To other friends, Whitefield wrote:—

"Our ship is now going to the Downs. God strengthens me mightily in the inner man. The sermon I have sent you is one of my extempore sermons. My brother, the captain, has been with me this last week. If he leaves off disputing, and will come to Christ as a poor lost sinner, he will do well. The Bishop of London has lately written against me. I trust God has assisted me in writing an answer. It is now (August 14) in the press. All the self-righteous are up in arms. My Master makes me more than a conqueror through His love. Mr. Ingham has about forty Societies in Yorkshire. Both the Mr. Wesleys go on well. Go where you will, religion (either for or against it) is the talk. Probably a suffering time will come. You will not be ashamed of me, though I should be a prisoner. Soon after this reaches Georgia, I hope to see you. My stay will be as short as possible at Philadelphia. I must not delay coming to my dear, though poor, charge. I expect to find Savannah almost desolate;[272] but our extremity is God's opportunity. I believe it will lift up its drooping head."

"I thank God for His goodness to brother Howell Harris. The storm is diverted for a while, but I expect it to break upon my head one time or another. God has, for a while, prepared me a place of refuge in the ship from whence I write this. I have almost forgotten that I was in the world. My family on board is quite settled, and we live and love like Christians. I am now reading the 'Book of Martyrs.' They make me blush to think how little I suffer for Christ's sake. They warm my heart, and make me think the time long till I am called to resist even unto blood. But I fear the treachery of this heart of mine."

"Since my retirement from the world, I have seen more and more how full I am of corruption. Nothing could possibly support my soul under the many agonies which oppress me, but a consideration of the freeness, eternity, and unchangeableness of God's love to me, the chief of sinners. In about a twelvemonth, probably, I shall return again to my native country. Satan, no doubt, will endeavour to stir up all his forces against me. By the help of my God, I will once more come forth with my sling and my stone. I shall wait with impatience to hear how the work goes on in my absence. I trust God, by this time (Nov. 10), has sent more labourers into His harvest. I verily believe the right hand of the Lord will bring mighty things to pass. O how do I long to see bigotry and party-zeal taken away, and all the Lord's servants more knit together!"

"Reverend and dear Sir,—When with you last, I thought you spoke too favourably of horse-races and such things. But what diversion ought a Christian or a clergyman to know, or speak of, but that of doing good? Many who are right in their principles, are worse than I could wish in their practice. O for a revival of true and undefiled religion in all sects whatsoever! I long to see a catholic spirit overspread the world. May God vouchsafe to make me an instrument in promoting it! Methinks, I care not what I do or suffer, so that I may see my Lord's kingdom come with power."

The following is taken from a letter to the Erskines and their confederates in Scotland:—

"Though I know none of you in person, yet, from the time I heard of your faith and love towards our dear Lord Jesus, I have been acquainted with you in spirit, and have constantly mentioned you in my poor prayers. I find the good pleasure of the Lord prospers in your hands; and I pray God to increase you more and more. Scotland, like England, has been so much settled upon its lees for some time, that I fear our late days may properly be called the midnight of the Church. I cannot but think a winnowing time will come after this ingathering of souls. O that we may suffer only as Christians, and then the Spirit of Christ and of glory will rest upon us. In patience possess your souls. I will leave my cause to God. The eternal God will be your perpetual refuge. He who employs will protect. As your day is, so shall your strength be."[273]

Other friends were addressed as follows:—

"The innumerable temptations, that attend a popular life, sometimes make me think it would be best for me to withdraw. But then, I consider that He who delivered Daniel out of the den of lions, and the three children out of the fiery furnace, is able and willing to deliver me also out of the fiery furnace of popularity and applause, and from the fury of those, who, for preaching Christ and Him crucified, are my inveterate enemies. In His strength, therefore, and at His command, when His providence shall call, I will venture out again. As yet, my trials have been nothing. Hereafter, a winnowing time may come; and then we shall see who is on the Lord's side, and who dare to confess Christ before men."

"Reverend and dear Sir,—The Christian world is in a deep sleep. Nothing but a loud voice can awaken them out of it. It would rejoice me to hear of your success in the Lord. In about a twelvemonth, I purpose to return to England. I long to die unto myself, and to be alive unto God. Methinks, I would always be upon the wing; but, alas! I have a body of sin, which, at times, makes me cry out, 'Who shall deliver me?' I thank God, our Lord Jesus Christ will deliver. But I never expect entire freedom till I bow down my head, and give up the ghost. Every fresh employ, I find, brings with it fresh temptations. God always humbles before He exalts me. Sometimes I speak and write freely, at other times I am comparatively barren; one while on the mount, another while overshadowed with a cloud; but, blessed be God! at all times, at peace with Him, and assured that my sins are forgiven. I want to leap my seventy years. I long to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. But I must be made perfect by sufferings. I expect no other preferment."

In a letter to Mr. Hutchins, one of the Oxford Methodists, Whitefield wrote:—

"And how does my dear Mr. Hutchins? Is he yet commenced a field-preacher? I am persuaded my dear friend is under the guidance of God's Spirit, and, therefore, am convinced he will be directed for the best. Ere now, I trust, he has been upon many a mount, stretching out his hands, and inviting all that are weary and heavy-laden to come to Jesus Christ. In about a twelvemonth, I think of returning to England. I should rejoice if you would come and supply my place at Savannah. If not, I must resign the parsonage, and take upon me only the care of the orphans. I intend bringing up two or three, who are with me, for the ministry: more, no doubt, will shortly be added to their number. If you could come and teach them the languages, for an hour or two in the day, we could serve both the Orphan House and Parsonage together. Great things I trust will come out of Georgia."

"I know so much of the corruption of my heart, that, were God to leave me to myself but one moment, I should with oaths and curses deny my Master. As for my final perseverance, I bless God, I have not the least doubt thereof. The gifts and callings of God are without repentance. Whom He loves, I am persuaded, He loves to the end. But then, I fear lest, being puffed up with abundance of success, I should provoke the Lord to let me fall into some heinous sin, and thereby give His adversaries reason to rejoice. A public life is attended with innumerable snares; and a sense of my unworthiness and unfitness so weighs me down, that I have often thought it would be best for me to retire. But I know these are all suggestions of the enemy. Why should I distrust Omnipotence? Having had a legion of devils cast out of my heart by the power of Christ, why should I not tell what He hath done for my soul, for the encouragement of others? By the help of God, I will speak. The more Satan bids me hold my peace, the more earnestly will I proclaim to believing saints, that Jesus will have mercy on them. Oh! had I a thousand lives, my dear Lord Jesus should have them all."

The following seems to have been written to certain students at Oxford:—

"Look round, look round, my brethren, and, in imitation of your common Lord, weep over the desolations of the University wherein you live. Alas! how is that once faithful city become a harlot! Have pity upon her, ye that are friends; and, whatever treatment you may meet with from an ungrateful world, endeavour to rescue some of her sons out of that blindness, ignorance, bigotry, and formality, into which she is unhappily fallen. Arise, ye sons of the prophets. Shine forth, ye who are appointed to be the lights of the world. The rulers of this world will endeavour to put you under bushels; but, if your light is of God's kindling, all the devils in hell shall not be able to extinguish it. How will you be apt to teach hereafter, unless you begin to teach now? All God's people will wish you God speed. I am sure I do with all my heart."

The next extract is from a letter addressed to the students of a Dissenting college—perhaps Dr. Doddridge's:—

"As God has been pleased to bless my ministry to your souls, I think it my duty to watch over you for good. I heartily pray that you may be burning and shining lights in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. Though you are not of the Church of England, yet, if you are persuaded in your own minds of the truth of the way wherein you walk, I leave it. Whether Conformists or Nonconformists, our main concern should be, to be assured that we are called and taught of God; for none but such are fit to minister in holy things. It rejoiced me much to see such dawnings of grace in your souls; only I thought most of you were bowed down too much with a servile fear of man: but, as the love of the Creator increases, the fear of the creature will decrease. Unless your hearts are free from worldly hopes and worldly fears, you will never speak boldly, as you ought to speak. The good old Puritans, I believe, never preached better than when in danger of being taken to prison as soon as they had finished their sermons; and, I am persuaded, unless you go forth with the same temper, you will never preach with the same demonstration of the Spirit, and of power. Study your hearts as well as books. Ask yourselves, again and again, whether you would preach for Christ, if you were sure to lay down your lives for so doing. But enough of this. I love to hope well of you all."

The following was addressed to Howell Harris, and shews that Whitefield was now a Calvinist. While Harris was preaching at Pontypool, in the month of June, an officious official came and read the Riot Act, though there was not the least likelihood of a riot taking place. Harris asked him if he was accustomed to read the Act at "cock-matches"? This increased the man's anger, and Harris was arrested, carried before a magistrate, and committed for trial, at Monmouth Assizes, in August following. Having procured bail for his appearance, he surrendered himself at the proper time; but no evidence whatever was produced against him, and, of course, he was dismissed.

"I congratulate you on your success at Monmouth. God has yet further work for you to do, ere you are called before rulers and governors, for His name's sake. In about a twelvemonth, I hope to make a second use of your field-pulpits. Our principles agree, as face answers to face in the water. Since I saw you, God has been pleased to enlighten me more in that comfortable doctrine of election, etc. At my return, I hope to be more explicit than I have been. God forbid, my dear brother, that we should shun to declare the whole counsel of God!"

The next extract also expresses the same sentiments:—

"What was there in you, and in me, that should move God to choose us before others? Was there any fitness foreseen in us, except a fitness for damnation? I believe not. No, God chose us from eternity; He called us in time; and, I am persuaded, will keep us from falling finally, till time shall be no more. Consider the gospel in this view, and it appears a consistent scheme."

In a letter to Hervey, Whitefield wrote:—

"The many happy hours I spent with you at Oxon, and the benefit I have received from your instructions and example, are yet fresh upon my memory. I long to have my dear friend come forth and preach the truth as it is in Jesus. Not a righteousness or inward holiness of our own, whereby we may make ourselves meet, but the righteousness of another, even the Lord our righteousness; upon the imputation and apprehending of which by faith, we shall be made meet, by His Holy Spirit, to live with, and to enjoy God. Let me advise dear Mr. Hervey to lay aside all prejudice, and to read and pray over St. Paul's Epistles to the Romans and Galatians; and then let him tell me what he thinks of this doctrine. Most of your old friends are now happily enlightened. God sets His seal to such preaching in an extraordinary manner, and, I am persuaded, the gates of hell shall never be able to prevail against it. O that dear Mr. Hervey would also join with us! O that the Lord would open his eyes to behold aright this part of the mystery of godliness! How would it rejoice my heart! how would it comfort his own soul! I have written to dear Mr. Orchard,[274] as well as to you, out of the simplicity of my heart."

The following refers to the painful mental exercises through which Whitefield passed during his voyage to America:—

"The Searcher of all hearts alone knows what agonies of soul I have undergone since my retirement from the world. The remembrance of my past sins has overwhelmed me, and caused tears to be my meat day and night. Indeed, I have mourned as one mourneth for a firstborn; but I looked to Him whom I have pierced. I was enabled to see the freeness and riches of His grace, the infiniteness and eternity of His love; and my soul received comfort. O the excellency of the doctrine of election, and of the saints' final perseverance, to those who are sealed by the Spirit of promise! I am persuaded, till a man comes to believe and feel these important truths, he cannot come out of himself; but, when convinced of these, and assured of the application of them to his own heart, he then walks by faith indeed, not in himself, but in the Son of God, who died and gave Himself for him."

The next extract is from a letter to the father of Joseph Periam, whose incarceration in a madhouse has been already mentioned:—

"Though unknown to you in person, yet, as you were pleased to think me worthy of the care of your dear son, I think it my duty to acquaint you of his welfare. I bless God that he came with me. He is diligent and pious, and, I trust, will be a comfort to you in your declining years. His mind seems settled and composed; and, by reading and following the Bible, he is a partaker of that peace which the world cannot give. His dear and honoured father is much upon his heart. How would it rejoice him to hear that you also were become a Christian indeed! Be not offended, dear sir, at my expressing myself thus. Christianity is more than a name and a bare outward profession. Morality of itself will never carry us to heaven. No, Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. There is no being happy without a lively faith in Him, wrought in the heart by the blessed Spirit of God. This faith transforms the whole man, delivers him from the tyranny of his passions, and makes him entirely a new creature. This is the reason why it is foolishness to the world. Your son's case, in this respect, was not singular. As soon as ever we commence Christians, we commence fools for Christ's sake. Every truly religious man must be deemed a madman."[275]

In the month of June, 1739, in a letter to a friend, Wesley made use of the memorable declaration, which has been quoted times without number, "I look upon all the world as my parish." In the following extract, Whitefield employs the same expression, thus shewing that it was not peculiar to Wesley, but common among the Oxford Methodists:—

"The whole world is now my parish. Wheresoever my Master calls me, I am ready to go and preach His everlasting gospel. My only grief is that I cannot do more for Christ. I ought to love and do much, having had so much forgiven. Oh pray, dear sir, that I may never be weary in well-doing."

In the following paragraph Whitefield shews his intention in reference to the parish of Savannah:—

"I intend resigning the parsonage of Savannah. The Orphan House I can take care of, supposing I should be kept at a distance. Besides, when I have resigned the parish, I shall be more at liberty to make a tour round America, if God should ever call me to such a work. However, I determine nothing; I wait on the Lord. I am persuaded He will shew me what is His will. How earnestly do I desire to be dissolved, that I may be with Christ! Sometimes, my weak body gives me hopes that I shall not be long in the flesh; but then, the strength that is communicated to me, and the consideration that I have but just begun my testimony, fill me with fears, lest I should live to be grey-headed. But I endeavour to resign myself wholly to God. If He preserves me from falling into sin, and from dishonouring His holy name, let Him do what seemeth Him good with me."

These extracts are "odds and ends;" but they are useful, as unfolding Whitefield's character and principles, his opinions and intentions, the state of his mind and heart, after his wondrous services in England, and during his voyage to America. Another letter, or rather pastoral epistle, written at this period, demands a more lengthened notice. It was published soon afterwards, with the following title: "A Letter from the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, to the Religious Societies lately set on foot in several parts of England and Wales. Wrote on board the Elizabeth, Captain Stevenson, during the voyage to Philadelphia, 1739. Edinburgh: printed for James Beugo, Bookseller, in Dumferling, 1740."[276] (26 pp.) Whitefield had been closely associated with these Societies in London, Bristol, and elsewhere; he highly approved of them; and it was natural to expect that he would take a profound interest in their continued existence and prosperity. The reader must be content with short extracts from this long epistle.

Legality of the Religious Societies.—"If you fear God, and truly honour the king, and are of the number of those who are quiet in the land, no reason can be urged against your Societies. In this respect, a private prelate has no more authority than a private presbyter. If it be lawful for more than five to meet in a private vestry, it is equally lawful for more than five to meet in a private house; as is the practice of some of the Societies, who are under the government of those called the Twelve Stewards. If it be enquired of you, 'By what authority you sometimes pray without a premeditated form of words?' you may enquire, 'By what authority any one reads the Church Forms, who is not commissioned so to do, and that in any place but in the church, where only they are appointed to be read, and only by one so commissioned?' If they reply, 'You have Dr. Woodward's Form;' you may answer them with this question, 'What difference is there, in respect to others, between a person's reading a form, which few who hear it know beforehand, and a person's praying extempore, as the Holy Spirit gives him utterance?' If they laugh at the mention of 'praying by the Spirit,' I hope you know better. Stand fast, therefore, in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free; and be not afraid to make innovations in the Church, which does not confine its members to forms, except within the walls of the church, nor even there altogether."

Admission of new members.—"You ought to be very cautious whom you admit into fellowship with you. Examine them again and again, not barely whether they receive the sacrament, and go to church, but whether they be in the faith. Set them upon proving their own selves; and by no means receive them into your brotherhood, unless they can produce sufficient evidences of their having tasted the good word of life, and felt the powers of the world to come. Some may object that this is not a very good way to increase and multiply you as to number; but it is the best, the only way, to establish and increase a communion of true saints. Such a Society, consisting of a few solid Christians, is far preferable to one that is filled with a multitude of such as do not bring forth fruit unto holiness, but have only the fig-leaves of an outward profession. Formal hypocrites will do any Society more harm than good."

Object of their meetings.—"The end of your meeting is not that you may think yourselves more holy than your neighbours, much less to form a sect or party, or to promote a schism or sedition in the Church or State. No: such thoughts, I trust, are far from you; for they are earthly, sensual, devilish. The only end which I hope you all propose by your assembling yourselves together, is the renewing of your depraved natures, and promoting the hidden life of Jesus Christ in your souls."

Doctrine.—"I think it my bounden duty to exhort you to contend earnestly for the doctrine of justification by faith only, because so many blind guides are lately gone out into the world. It is much to be feared that many of our present preachers are no better than doctrinal papists. One of the most reputed orthodox prelates in the kingdom, in a late pastoral letter, advises his clergy, 'so to explain the doctrine of justification in the sight of God by faith only, as to make good works a necessary condition.' Such advice from a Roman cardinal would be no more than we might expect; but, coming from a bishop of the Church of England, is surprising, and much to be lamented. God forbid that you should so learn Christ! No, my brethren, in the great mystery of man's redemption by Jesus Christ, boasting is entirely excluded. We must not expect to be saved, or in any way to recommend ourselves to God, by any or all the works of righteousness which we have done, or shall, or can do. The Lord Christ is our righteousness, our whole righteousness—imputed to us, instead of our own. 'We are accounted righteous before God, only for the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, by faith,' saith the eleventh article of our Church. Observe, my brethren, justified by or through faith, and not for faith; for faith is only a means or instrument whereby the whole righteousness of Jesus Christ is applied to the sinner's soul. Whosoever thus believes may be assured that his pardon is sealed in heaven, notwithstanding he has lived in an open breach of God's commandments all his lifetime before. This faith, however, will not be dead, idle, or inactive; for it is not a faith of the head, or a bare assent to things credible as credible; the devils thus believe and tremble; but it is a faith of the heart, a living principle of new life, infused into the soul by the Spirit of God, applying that inwardly, which was wrought for him outwardly by the obedience and death of Jesus Christ, and continually exciting the possessor of it to shew it forth by his works; not as necessary conditions, but as proofs of his justification in the sight of God; and as so many tokens of his gratitude and love for what God has done for his soul."

Christian fellowship.—"Content not yourselves with reading, singing, and praying together; but set some time apart to confess your faults, and to communicate your experience one to another. For want of this, (which I take to be one chief design of private meetings), most of the old Societies in London, I fear, are sunk into a dead formality, and have only a name to live. They meet on a Sabbath evening, read a chapter, and sing a psalm; but seldom, if ever, acquaint each other with the operations of God's Spirit upon their souls; notwithstanding this was the great end of those who first began these Societies. Hence it is, that, they have only the form of godliness left amongst them, and continue utter strangers to the state of one another's hearts. My brethren, let not your coming together be thus altogether in vain, but plainly and freely tell one another what God has done for your souls. To this end, you would do well, as others have done, to form yourselves into little companies of four or five each, and meet once a week to tell each other what is in your hearts; that you may then also pray for, and comfort each other, as need shall require. None but those who have experienced it, can tell the unspeakable advantages of such a union and communion of souls. I know not a better means in the world to keep hypocrisy out from amongst you. Pharisees and unbelievers will pray, read, and sing psalms; but none, save an Israelite indeed, will endure to have his heart searched out."

Counsels like these are always in season. Whitefield never instituted class-meetings, in the same sense as his friend Wesley did; but he strenuously urged the use of that Christian fellowship, which was the chief object of such meetings when they were first commenced. The reader will do well, in this age of ritualistic formality, to ponder some of the points in Whitefield's "Letter to the Religious Societies of England, in 1739."

Enough has been written to shew the views and feelings with which Whitefield returned to America, in 1739. He, William Seward, and another friend, landed at Lewis Town, about a hundred and fifty miles from Philadelphia, on October 30. He writes:—

"God is the great householder of the whole world, and I look upon all persons as so many parts of His great family. As there is here the same sun, so there is here the same God—in America as in England. I would have all places alike to me, so I am where God would have me to be; but I hope I shall never account myself at home till I arrive at my heavenly Father's house above. I trust my heart is there already. Oh, when shall I shake off this earthly tabernacle! It sadly confines my soul. Lord, help me patiently to tarry till my blessed change comes!"

Next day the young evangelist, by request, preached "to a serious and attentive congregation;" and, at five in the afternoon, he and his two friends set out for Philadelphia, the place to which the ship, they had left, was bound. After a ride of twenty-seven miles through the woods, they came, at ten o'clock at night, to what was called a tavern. The host and hostess made them a cake of unleavened bread, and set before them a few eggs and a little cider, and they went to bed rejoicing.

The day following, they rode fifty miles, and "came to a more convenient inn." Whitefield says, "Our Lord comforted us as we came on our way; and our hearts burned within us whilst we talked to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs."

On the third day, they reached Philadelphia, where the Elizabeth, with what Whitefield calls his "family," had arrived in safety.

Pennsylvania, of which Philadelphia was the capital, was an English settlement about two hundred and fifty miles in length, and nearly the same in breadth.[277] As is well known, this large extent of territory had been granted to William Penn, the Quaker, about sixty years previous to Whitefield's visit. In 1682, Penn began to found his important colony. The soil, in general, was extremely fertile. Game of all kinds was amazingly plentiful. Deer, hares, turkeys, pheasants, partridges, wild ducks, wild geese, swans, and pigeons, were innumerable. In the immense forests, were bears, panthers, wild cats, and wolves; while, in the low grounds, were found minks, musk rats, and opossums. The woods consisted of the oak, the ash, the beech, the chestnut, the cedar, the walnut, the cypress, the hickory, the sassafras, and the pine,—all of which, in many instances, were gracefully festooned with vines. Fruits, including apples, cherries, pears, peaches, plums, and melons, grew in rich abundance. Penn's colony originally consisted chiefly of English Quakers, who, in consequence of their refusing to pay tithes and church dues, had frequently found themselves the inmates of English prisons. These, together with a few Dutch and Swedish settlers already on the ground, began to transform this glorious wilderness into a cultivated land. The Indians—the original proprietors—were treated with justice and kindness. Religious and civil freedom was made the basis of government. All persons professing to believe in one God were freely tolerated; and all who professed to believe in Jesus Christ, of whatever denomination, were eligible for government posts and offices. The result was, emigrants and refugees, of all persuasions, flocked to Pennsylvania, to put themselves under the protection of its founder's laws; lands were cultivated; towns were built; and when Penn died, about twenty years before Whitefield's first visit, the colony was, in every sense, free and flourishing.

In 1739, the population of Pennsylvania was probably not more than from fifty to a hundred thousand,[278] and consisted of Quakers, Episcopalians, Calvinists, Lutherans, Independents, Baptists, Presbyterians, and "Dumplers, a sort of German sect, who wore long beards and a habit resembling that of Friars." As might be expected, governmental power was chiefly in the hands of Quakers, and, with rare exceptions, it was humanely exercised.

Philadelphia, the chief town of the colony, stood upon a neck of land, immediately at the confluence of the rivers Delaware and Schuylkill. It was planned in an oblong form, and designed to extend two miles, from river to river There were to be eight parallel streets, all two miles in length, to be intersected by sixteen others, each in length a mile, and all of them broad, spacious, and even; with proper spaces left for the public buildings, churches, and market places. In the centre was a square of ten acres. The two principal streets were each one hundred feet wide; and most of the houses had a small garden and orchard attached to them. When William Penn began his work in 1682, Philadelphia consisted of three or four insignificant cottages. "Conies were yet undisturbed in their hereditary burrows; the deer fearlessly bounded past blazed trees, unconscious of foreboded streets; and the stranger that wandered from the river bank was lost in the thickets of an interminable forest. Two years afterwards, the place contained about six hundred houses, and the schoolmaster and the printing-press had begun their work."[279] In 1761, the population of Philadelphia was about 13,000.[280]

The state of religion, in Pennsylvania, was lamentable. The Rev. Samuel Blair, a Presbyterian minister, living at the time, observes:—

"There were some sincerely religious people, and a considerable number pretty exact in the observance of the external forms of religion; but with this, the most part seemed to rest contented, and to satisfy their consciences with a dead formality. A lamentable ignorance of the main essentials of true practical religion, and the doctrines relating thereto, generally prevailed. The nature and necessity of the new birth were but little known or thought of. The necessity of a conviction of sin and misery, in order to a saving closure with Christ, was hardly known at all. It was thought that, if there was any need of a heart-distressing sight of the soul's danger, it was only needful for the grosser sort of sinners; and for any others to be thus deeply exercised, was generally looked upon to be a great evil and temptation. There was scarcely any suspicion of the danger of depending upon self-righteousness, and not upon the righteousness of Christ alone, for salvation. The necessity of being first in Christ by a vital union, and in a justified state, before our religious services can be well-pleasing and acceptable to God, was very little understood. The common notion seemed to be, that, if people were aiming to be in the way of duty as well as they could, there was no reason to be much afraid. According to these principles, people generally were careless at heart, and stupidly indifferent about the great concerns of eternity. It was sad to see with what a careless behaviour the public ordinances were attended, and how people were given to worldly discourse on the Lord's-day. In public companies, a vain and frothy lightness was apparent in the deportment of many professors. Religion, as it were, lay a-dying, and ready to expire its last breath of life in this part of the visible church."[281]

It is hoped that this brief account of Pennsylvania will not be thought irrelevant. It was here that Whitefield began his itinerant career in England's transatlantic colonies. During the four months he had spent in Georgia, in 1738, his ministry had been earnest, but regular. Now, in Pennsylvania, he became what he had been, for seven months in England, not a fixed star, but a flaming comet, his course eccentric, and calculated to alarm episcopal, presbyterian, and other kinds of precisians in the English settlements, quite as much as the same sort of methodical religionists had been alarmed in England. In both countries his action was unpremeditated. On his return to England, at the end of 1738, he had not the least idea of becoming an open-air and itinerant evangelist. He came to be ordained a priest, and to collect subscriptions for his contemplated Orphan House. In like manner, when he returned to America in 1739, he had no conception that the next fourteen months would be occupied as they were. He was intentionally returning to Savannah, there, for about a year, to fulfil the duties of his office as a regular appointed minister of the Church of England, and also, in such a capacity, to provide a home for the orphans of his parish. Instead of this, however, most of his time, as will soon be seen, was spent, not in Georgia, but in itinerating in the other English settlements. This was exceedingly irregular; but, looking at results, who will say that it was wrong? When he arrived at Philadelphia, he did not intend it; but, unquestionably, his Master did. The churches in the English colonies needed a religious impulse quite as much as the churches of the mother-country. Under God, the young evangelist and his fellows had moved and agitated England; and now he was employed, by a Providence which cannot err, and greatly to his own surprise, in moving and agitating America. Let us follow him.

After riding, during the day, sixty miles, through woods and forests and partially cultivated lands, he arrived at Philadelphia, at eleven o'clock at night, on Friday, November 2, 1739. Where he slept, we are not informed; perhaps, nowhere; for most likely, at such an hour, the sober-minded Philadelphians had all retired to rest. Next morning, he "went on board the Elizabeth to see his family;" he visited the officials of the town; he held Christian communion "with some gracious souls;" and he "hired a house at a very cheap rate, and was quite settled in it before night."

Sunday, Nov. 4. He "read prayers and assisted at the communion in the morning; dined with one of the churchwardens, and preached to a large congregation in the afternoon; went in the evening to a Quakers' meeting, and heartily wished they would talk of an outward as well as inward Christ."

Monday, Nov. 5. He "read prayers and preached to a large auditory; dined with the other churchwarden; was visited in the afternoon by the Presbyterian minister; went afterwards to see the Baptist minister; and spent part of the evening most agreeably with two loving Quakers."

Tuesday, Nov. 6. He "read prayers and preached; went to the funeral of a Quaker's child, and, as none of the Quakers spoke, he gave a word of exhortation; was visited in the evening by the Presbyterian and Baptist ministers; and admitted some women to prayers with his family."

Wednesday, Nov. 7. He "read prayers and preached in the church; and gave a word of exhortation to more than a room full of people at his own hired house."

Thursday, Nov. 8. He "read prayers and preached to a more numerous congregation than he had seen yet; dined with an honest, open-hearted, true Israelitish Quaker; and preached, in the evening, from the Court-house stairs, to about six thousand people."

Friday, Nov. 9. He "read prayers and preached as usual in the morning; was visited in a kind manner by the minister of the parish; and preached again at six in the evening, from the Court-house stairs, to, he believed, nearly eight thousand hearers. Even in London, he never observed a more profound silence. The night was clear, but not cold; and lights were in most of the windows round about."

Saturday, Nov. 10. "About eleven, he read prayers and preached in the church; then dined with the minister of the parish; at his return home, was much comforted by the coming of Mr. Tennent, an old grey-headed disciple and soldier of Jesus Christ; about three, went to the prison, and preached on the trembling jailor; returned home with the Swedish minister and Mr. Tennent; conversed with them of the things of God; and, in the evening, preached, to as large a congregation as there was the night before, from the Court-house stairs." He adds: "I continued my discourse above an hour, and, when I had finished, the people seemed so unwilling to go, that I began to pray afresh, and I hope the Lord sent them home not without a blessing. After preaching, my house was filled with people who came to join in psalms and family prayer. Many wept most bitterly whilst I was praying. Their hearts seemed to be loaded with a sense of sin, the only preparative for the visitation of Jesus Christ. Blessed be the Lord for sending me hither! Lord, give me humility, and make me truly thankful! Amen, Lord Jesus!"

Thus did Whitefield begin his memorable ministry in Pennsylvania.

Mr. Tennent has just been mentioned, and, as he and his family will hereafter be often introduced to the reader's notice, a brief account of him and them seems requisite.

The Rev. William Tennent, senior, was from Ireland, and was an ordained minister of the Established Church of that country. He was chaplain to an Irish nobleman; but, being conscientiously scrupulous about conforming to the terms imposed on the clergy, he was deprived of his living; and, in 1718, migrated to Pennsylvania, with his wife, four sons, and a daughter.[282] He applied to be received as a member of the Presbyterian Synod of Philadelphia. That body required him to state in writing the reasons of his dissent from the Episcopal communion. One of the most prominent of his reasons was, that the Church of Ireland connived "at Arminian doctrines." His case was considered; his credentials were satisfactory; he was admitted a member of the Synod, and settled at Neshaminy, twenty miles north of Philadelphia.[283] There, about the year 1720, he erected a school, long known as the "Log College," where some of the most distinguished ministers of that period received their education. Among these were his four sons, and Messrs. Rowland, Campbell, Lawrence, Beatty, Robinson, and Samuel Blair. He died in 1743. He is described as "a man of great integrity, simplicity, industry, and piety;" and to him the American churches were much indebted.

Charles Tennent, one of the four sons, was minister of the Presbyterian Church at Whiteclay Creek.[284]

John was licensed by the Newcastle Presbytery, and was settled at Freehold, New Jersey, where his labours were greatly blessed. His chapel was usually crowded; religion became the general subject of discourse; the terror of God fell on the inhabitants of the place; and many were converted. John Tennent's ministry was of short duration. He was called to the Freehold congregation in 1730, and died in 1732.[285]

He was succeeded by his brother William, in 1733. The religious excitement, commenced under the ministry of John, continued, less or more, for about a dozen years. Mr. William Tennent writes: "Those who were brought to the Saviour were all prepared for it by a sharp law-work of conviction, discovering to them their sinfulness both by nature and practice, as well as their liableness to damnation for their original and actual transgressions. They all confessed the justice of God in their eternal perdition; and thus were shut up to the blessed necessity of seeking relief by faith in Christ alone."[286] For forty-four years, Mr. Tennent officiated as pastor of the church at Freehold. He died on the 8th of March, 1777.[287] The old house at Freehold, in which John and William Tennent used to preach, is still standing in its primitive simplicity. The building is forty feet by sixty, and, beneath its middle aisle, are deposited the remains of William Tennent. In one of the walls is a handsome monumental tablet, recording the chief dates of his earthly pilgrimage.[288]

Gilbert Tennent became a licentiate of the Newcastle Presbytery in 1725, and, in 1726, was ordained minister of New Brunswick, in New Jersey. "For eighteen months after his settlement at New Brunswick, Mr. Tennent saw no evidence that any one had been savingly benefited by his labours. He then commenced a serious examination of the members of his church, as to the grounds of their hope, which he found, in many cases, to be but sand. Such he solemnly warned, and urged to seek converting grace. He preached much, at this time, upon original sin, repentance, the nature and necessity of conversion, and endeavoured to alarm the secure by the terrors of the Lord. These efforts were followed by the conviction and conversion of a considerable number of persons."[289] Gilbert Tennent became prominent in his endeavours to reform abuses in the Presbyterian churches, and not infrequently was in conflict with his brethren. As early as 1735, he succeeded in persuading the synod to pass a resolution that due care should be taken to examine candidates both for the ministry and for the Lord's supper, respecting the evidences of the grace of God in them, as well as their other necessary qualifications. In 1740, he read a paper to the New Brunswick Synod, complaining that the preaching of a number of its members was "powerless and unsavoury," "too general," "soft and flattering," and, therefore, "unsuccessful." He also, in the same year, preached and published his famous sermon on the danger of an unconverted ministry, which led to a Presbyterian schism. He described the generality of the ministers of that generation as "letter-learned Pharisees, plastered hypocrites, having the form of godliness, but destitute of its power." He told the people that the reason why they had seen so few cases of conviction or conversion among them was because "the bulk of their spiritual guides were stone blind and stone dead."[290]

In 1740, Whitefield persuaded him to act as his successor in Boston, and in the Province of New England generally. Tennent consented, and away he went to his new sphere of labour, with almost rustic simplicity; wearing his hair undressed, and a large great-coat girt with a leathern girdle. His ministry in New Jersey had been greatly blessed; and now, in New England, it was hardly less successful than Whitefield's had been. He seemed "to shake the country, as with an earthquake. Wherever he came, hypocrisy and Pharisaism either fell before him, or gnashed their teeth against him. Cold orthodoxy also started from her downy cushion to imitate or to denounce him; for, like Elijah on Carmel, he made neutrality impossible." In 1743, he established a new church in Philadelphia, consisting of Whitefield's followers, and closed his laborious and eminently successful ministry in the year 1765.[291] For more than forty years, he had enjoyed an unshaken assurance of his interest in redeeming love. As a preacher, he had but few equals. His publications were more than a score in number. At his death, he was succeeded in the congregation at Philadelphia by the Rev. James Sproat, who had been converted by his ministry.

These are very imperfect notices of the Tennents; but they will help the reader to understand ensuing extracts from Whitefield's Journals and correspondence.

On Monday, Nov. 12, Whitefield left Philadelphia for the purpose of visiting New York. Four horses were lent to him and to his friends. He writes:—

"About one, we got safe to Burlington, in the Jerseys, twenty miles from Philadelphia. Immediately after dinner, I read prayers and preached in the church, to a mixed but thronged and attentive congregation. About eight in the evening, we reached Trent, another town in the Jerseys, and went to rest in peace and joy.

"Tuesday, Nov. 13. Left Trent at six in the morning, and reached Brunswick, thirty miles distant, at one. Here we were much refreshed with the company of Mr. Gilbert Tennent, an eminent Dissenting minister, about forty years of age, son of that good old man who came to see me on Saturday at Philadelphia. God, I find, has been pleased greatly to own his labours. He and his associates are now the burning and shining lights of this part of America. Several pious souls came to see me at his house, with whom I took sweet counsel. At their request, I read the Church Liturgy and preached in Mr. Tennent's meeting-house; for there is no place set apart for the worship of the Church of England. I was above an hour in my sermon, and I trust I shall hear it was not preached in vain.

"Wednesday, Nov. 14. Set out from Brunswick, in company with Mr. Tennent and my other fellow-travellers; and, as we passed along, we spent our time most agreeably in telling one another what God had done for our souls. About four, we reached New York, where we were most affectionately received by the family of Mr. Noble.[292] I waited upon Mr. V——y, the commissary, but he was not at home. Then I went to the meeting-house to hear Mr. Gilbert Tennent preach, and never before heard such a searching sermon. He convinced me more and more that we can preach the gospel of Christ no further than we have experienced the power of it in our own hearts. Being deeply convicted of sin, by God's Holy Spirit, at his first conversion, Mr. Tennent has learned experimentally to dissect the heart of the natural man. Hypocrites must either soon be converted or enraged at his preaching. He is a son of thunder, and does not fear the faces of men. After sermon, we spent the evening together at Mr. Noble's house. My soul was humbled and melted down with a sense of God's mercies, and I found more and more what a babe and novice I was in the things of God.

"Thursday, Nov. 15. Waited upon Mr. V——; but he seemed to be full of anger and resentment, and, before I asked him for the use of his pulpit, denied it. He said, they did not want my assistance. I replied, if they preached the gospel, I wished them good luck in the name of the Lord; but, as he had denied me the church without my asking the use of it, I would preach in the fields, for all places were alike to me. I, therefore, preached in the fields, to upwards of two thousand, at three in the afternoon; and expounded, at six in the evening, to a very thronged and attentive audience, in the reverend and worthy Mr. Pemberton's[293] meeting-house. In the field, a few mocked, but, after speaking to them, they grew more serious. At night, the people seemed exceedingly attentive, and I have not felt greater freedom in preaching, and more power in prayer, for a long while.

"Saturday, Nov. 17. Preached, in the afternoon, at the meeting-house, to a full congregation; and again at night, to a great multitude standing round the doors.

"Sunday, Nov. 18. Preached, this morning at eight o'clock, to a very attentive auditory. Went to the English Church, both morning and evening. At night, a great multitude flocked to hear the word. Some petitioned to have the use of the Town Hall, but it was denied. I thought of expounding out of a window, and to let the people stand in the street; but, at last, with much difficulty, I got into the meeting-house, and, the people being prevailed on to open the windows, numbers could hear, who stood outside. About ten o'clock, I took boat, with my friends, and had a pleasant passage to a place about half-way to Elizabeth Town, where we lay down with joy, and thankfulness for the great goodness the Lord had shewn us."

One who was present at these services in New York, wrote as follows, in Prince's "Christian History":—

"I never saw, in my life, such attentive audiences as Mr. Whitefield's in New York. All he said was demonstration, life, and power. The people's eyes and ears hung upon his lips. They greedily devoured every word. He preached, during four days, twice every day. He is a man of middle stature, of a slender body, of a fair complexion, and of a comely appearance. He is of a sprightly, cheerful temper, and acts and moves with great agility and life. The endowments of his mind are uncommon; his wit is quick and piercing; his imagination lively and florid; and, as far as I can discern, both are under the direction of a solid judgment. He has a most ready memory, and, I think, speaks entirely without notes. He has a clear and musical voice, and a wonderful command of it. He uses much gesture, but with great propriety. Every accent of his voice, every motion of his body speaks; and both are natural and unaffected. If his delivery be the product of art, it is certainly the perfection of it, for it is entirely concealed. He has a great mastery of words, but studies much plainness of speech. He spends not his zeal in trifles. He breathes a most catholic spirit; and professes that his whole design is to bring men to Christ; and that, if he can obtain this end, his converts may go to what church, and worship God in what form, they like best."

Such was the commencement of Whitefield's ministry in New York. His own Church would not admit him; and, therefore, he began to preach in Dissenting chapels. This was not pre-designed. Whitefield was a child of Providence; and when that seemed to point out his path, he felt no hesitancy, but, utterly regardless of the frowns and flatteries of men, he did what he deemed to be his duty. There was no dogged obstinacy about him. Perhaps one of his failings was that he was too persuadable; but even such a failing (if such existed) always leaned to the side of virtue. Writing, whilst at New York, to the Rev. Benjamin Colman, D.D., of Boston, who had mentioned him in a letter to Mr. Pemberton, he says:—

"I love to be acquainted with old servants of Jesus Christ. I delight to sit at their feet and receive instruction from them. You said right, reverend sir, when you said 'I was but a young divine.' Indeed, I am a novice in the things of God. I can only say that I desire to know the whole will of God, that I may communicate it to others. Reverend sir, into what a lethargy is the Christian world fallen! Foolish and wise virgins are all slumbering and sleeping. It is high time for all who love the Lord Jesus to lift up their voices like trumpets, and to give warning of the Bridegroom's coming. Many, I hope, are already alarmed.[294] Philadelphia people receive the gospel gladly. Here [at New York] there has been a little opposition, and, therefore, I hope success will be given to the word. Oh, reverend sir, entreat the Lord that I may be kept humble, and dependent upon our dear Lord Jesus. Shortly I expect to suffer for Him. May I not deny Him in that hour!"

Writing to his mother, Whitefield says:—

"New York, November 16, 1739.

"Honoured Mother,—New friends are raised up every day, whithersoever we go. The people of Philadelphia have used me most courteously, and many, I believe, have been pricked to the heart.... Oh, my honoured mother, my soul is in distress for you. Flee, flee, I beseech you, to Jesus Christ, by faith. Lay hold on Him, and do not let Him go. God has given you convictions. Arise, arise, and never rest till they end in sound conversion. Dare to deny yourself. My honoured mother, I beseech you, by the mercies of God in Christ Jesus, dare to take up your cross, and follow Christ."

These are beautiful exhibitions of humbleness, simplicity, earnestness, and love. Let us follow Whitefield in his return to Philadelphia.

"Monday, Nov. 19, Took boat about five in the morning, and reached Elizabeth Town at seven. Dined with Mr. Dickinson,[295] a worthy Dissenting minister, who had sent a letter of invitation to New York, and offered me the use of his meeting-house. About twelve, I preached in it, according to appointment, to upwards of seven hundred people. God was pleased to open my mouth against both ministers and people, among all denominations, who imprison the truth in unrighteousness.

"Tuesday, Nov. 20. Reached New Brunswick about six last night; and preached to-day, at noon, for near two hours, in Mr. Tennent's meeting-house, to a large assembly gathered together from all parts. About three in the afternoon, I preached again; and, at seven, I baptized two children, and preached a third time. Among others who came to hear the word, were several ministers, whom the Lord has been pleased to honour, in making them instruments of bringing many sons to glory.[296]

"Wednesday, Nov. 21. Set out early, with about a score in company, for Maidenhead, a little more than twenty miles from New Brunswick, where, at Mr. Tennent's request, I had appointed to preach to-day. At noon, I preached from a waggon to about fifteen hundred persons. Here one Mr. Rowland,[297] another faithful minister of Jesus Christ, gave us the meeting. He has been a preacher about two years, has gone about doing good, and has had many seals to his ministry. Much of the simplicity of Christ was discernible in his behaviour. After sermon, in company with above thirty horse, I went to Trent Town, ten miles from Maidenhead, and preached, in the Court House, in the evening.

"Thursday, Nov. 22. Set out for Neshaminy (twenty miles from Trent Town), where old Mr. Tennent lives, and keeps an academy, and where I was to preach to-day, according to appointment. We came thither about twelve, and found above three thousand people gathered together in the meeting-house yard, and Mr. William Tennent preaching to them, because we were beyond the appointed time. When I came up, he stopped, and sung a psalm, and then I began to speak. At first, the people seemed unaffected, but, in the midst of my discourse, the hearers began to be melted down, and cried much. After I had finished, Mr. Gilbert Tennent gave a word of exhortation. At the end of his discourse, we sung a psalm, and then dismissed the people with a blessing. After our exercises were over, we went to old Mr. Tennent, who entertained us like one of the ancient patriarchs. His wife seemed to me like Elizabeth, and he like Zacharias; both, as far as I can find, walk in all the ordinances and commandments of the Lord blameless. We had sweet communion with each other, and spent the evening in concerting measures for promoting our Lord's kingdom. It happens very providentially that Mr. Tennent and his brethren are appointed to be a presbytery by the synod, so that they intend breeding up gracious youths, and sending them out into our Lord's vineyard. The place wherein the young men study now is, in contempt, called the College. It is a log-house, about twenty feet long, and nearly as many broad; and, to me, it seemed to resemble the school of the old prophets. From this despised place, seven or eight worthy ministers of Jesus have lately been sent forth; more are almost ready to be sent; and a foundation is now laying for the instruction of many others. The devil will certainly rage against them; but the work, I am persuaded, is of God, and will not come to nought. Carnal ministers oppose them strongly; and, because people, when awakened by Mr. Tennent or his brethren, see through them, and therefore leave their ministry, the poor gentlemen are loaded with contempt, and looked upon as persons who turn the world upside-down.

"Friday, Nov. 23. Parted with dear Mr. Tennent and his worthy fellow-labourers; but promised to remember each other publicly in our prayers. Rode to Abingdon, about ten miles from Neshaminy, and preached to above two thousand people from a porch-window belonging to the meeting-house. It is surprising how such bodies of people, so scattered abroad, can be gathered at so short a warning. At Neshaminy, I believe, there were nearly a thousand horses. The people, however, did not sit upon them to hear the sermon, as in England, but tied them to the hedges; and thereby much disorder was prevented. Though it was cold, the congregation stood very patiently in the open air, and seemed in no hurry to return home after the discourses were ended. As soon as I had finished at Abingdon, I hastened to Philadelphia, where I found my family in good order, and all things carried on according to my desire. Oh, how can I express my thankfulness for this little excursion!"

This was a new kind of life to Whitefield. In England, he had preached, when he was permitted, in churches, and when not permitted, in Moorfields and places similar. Here he was preaching in Presbyterian, or, as he regarded them, Dissenting meeting-houses, or in open spaces surrounded by the grand old forests, through which he and his companions joyously pursued their sylvan journeys. Professedly, he was a Church of England clergyman, but practically a Dissenting minister. Of course, his action was ecclesiastically irregular, but it occasioned him no anxiety or uneasiness. He was preaching the gospel, and that to him was quite enough. When he got back to Philadelphia, he wrote quite a batch of letters, all bearing the same date, November 28; but extracts from two only must suffice.

To the Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, he says, perhaps with more lowliness than was decorous:—

"I have been much concerned since I saw you, lest I behaved not with that humility toward you, which is due from a babe to a father in Christ; but you know, reverend sir, how difficult it is to meet with success, and not be puffed up with it. If any such thing was discernible in my conduct, oh pity me, and pray to the Lord to heal my pride. Alas! who can hope to be justified by his works? My preaching, praying, etc., are only splendida peccata. The blood of Christ, applied to my soul by a living faith, is the only thing that can render them acceptable."

He was not only in close communion with the Presbyterians of America, but he wrote as follows to the Rev. Ralph Erskine, the Presbyterian Reformer, in Scotland:—

"I bless the Lord, from my soul, for raising you and several other burning and shining lights to appear for Him in this midnight of the Church. My heart has been much warmed by reading some of your sermons, especially that preached before the Associate Presbytery. I long more and more to hear of the rise and progress of your proceedings, and how far you would willingly carry the reformation of the Church of Scotland. My ignorance of the constitution of the Scotch Church is the cause of my writing after this manner. I should be obliged to you, if you would recommend to me some useful books, especially such as open the holy sacrament. I like Boston's 'Fourfold State of Man' exceedingly. Under God, it has been of much service to my soul. I believe I agree with you and him in the essential truths of Christianity. I bless God, His Spirit has convinced me of our eternal election by the Father through the Son; of our free justification through faith in His blood; of our sanctification as the consequence of that; and of our final perseverance and glorification as the result of all. These, I am persuaded, God has joined together; these neither men nor devils shall ever be able to put asunder. My only scruple at present is, 'whether you approve of taking the sword in defence of your religious rights?' One of our English bishops, when I was with him, called you Cameronians. They, I think, took up arms, which I think to be contrary to the Spirit of Jesus Christ and His apostles. Some few passages in your sermon before the Presbytery, I thought, were a little suspicious of favouring that principle. I pray God your next may inform me that I am mistaken; for when zeal carries us to such a length, I think it ceases to be zeal according to knowledge. Dearest sir, be not angry at my writing thus freely. I wish you good luck in all your pious undertakings. I pray God to prosper the work of your hands, and to make you a noble instrument in bringing many sons to glory."

There can be no question that Whitefield's intercourse with the Presbyterians of America powerfully affected him.[298] This was not surprising; for, apart from the fact that the clergy of his own Church generally disdained him, these Presbyterian ministers were men of kindred spirits to his own, intensely earnest, and blessed with the highest enjoyments of religion. The following letter addressed to Whitefield will shew "what manner of men they were." As will be seen, it was written immediately after Whitefield's first visit to New York.

"New Brunswick, December 1, 1739.

"Very Reverend and dear Brother,—I think I never found such a strong and passionate affection to any stranger as to you, when I saw your courage and labour for God at New York. I found a willingness in my heart to die with you, or to die for you. The reason why I spoke so little, for the most part of the time while I was with you, was a shameful sense I had of my ignorance and barrenness, after such a multitude of waterings and sealings as God had given me. Though I am as a brute beast before God, one of the meanest and vilest worms that ever crawled on the creation of God, yet I must say, to His praise, and my own shame, that I have had, in time past, such discoveries of my great Father's dear affection as have overcome me. For months together, my soul has been so ravished with divine objects, that my animal spirits have been wasted, and my sleep much broken. I have been made to loathe my food, because of the superior sweetness I have found in Christ. I could not refrain my soul from a secret longing for reproach, poverty, imprisonment, and death, for a glorious Christ, that, thereby, I might testify a grateful regard to His unspeakably dear and venerable majesty. I could not refrain wishing that every hair of my head was a life, that I might lay it down freely for my Lord Jesus. The fear of bringing any reproach on His religion has many times brought bitter tears from my eyes and heart. Sometimes, when travelling on the road, when I beheld the canopy of heaven, my heart has been suddenly ravished with love to God as my Father; so that I could not forbear crying out, in the pleasing transports of a childlike affection, 'Father! Father!' with a full and sweet assurance that He was my Father, and my God. In the night season, when I awoke, my soul was still with God. The passion of my soul for Christ was so vehement, that my dreams were full of Him. Thus it was for a long tract of time, But, alas! when the great God wisely withdrew His quickening presence, and let Satan loose upon me, O what terrible havoc did he make in my soul! and that, alas! too much with my will. I thought myself a monster in iniquity, and that there was some peculiar brutishness in my heart, that none had but myself. This made me often wish for death to get clear of it. This has often enraged my soul so against sin and myself for it, that I have thought, if it were lawful, I could freely try to pluck my heart out, and tear it in pieces.

"Since you were here, I have been among my people, dealing with them plainly about their souls, in their houses; examining them one by one as to their experiences; telling natural people the danger of their state; exhorting them that were totally secure, to seek convictions, and those that were convinced, to seek Jesus; and reproving pious people for their faults. Blessed be God! I have seen hopeful appearances of concern.

"I am, etc.,
"Gilbert Tennent."[299]