UPON the whole, Whitefield’s health was not improved by his visit to America. He had worked when others would have rested. If he had them with him, which perhaps is doubtful, he had worn “gown and cassock,” when it would have been more prudent to have lounged and travelled in a tourist’s dress. No doubt, his preaching in America had been of inestimable service; but he came back to England scarcely able to preach at all. On his arrival, he thus wrote to Mr. Keen:—
“Plymouth, July 12, 1765. I left the Halifax packet, from New York, near the Lizard; and, by the blunder of a drunken fellow, missed the post on the 8th inst. I want a gown and cassock. Child, in Chancery Lane, used to make for me, and perhaps knows my measure. Amazing, that I have not been measured for a coffin long ago! I am very low in body, and, as yet, undetermined what to do. Perhaps, on the whole, it may be best to come on leisurely, to see if my spirits can be a little recruited. You may write a few lines, at a venture, to Bristol. Had I bodily strength, you would find me coming upon you unawares; but that fails me much. I must have a little rest, or I shall be able to do nothing at all.”
Six days after this, he was at Bristol, in “a fine commodious house, and kept from much company,” but still begging “not to be brought into action too soon.” He wrote, “The poor old shattered bark has not been in dock one week for a long while.”
A fortnight afterwards, he arrived in London, and wrote as follows, probably to one of his old assistants, John Edwards, now Congregationalist minister in Leeds:—
“London, August 3, 1765. I am very weak in body, but gratitude constrains me to send you a few lines of love unfeigned, for your labours during my absence abroad. I rejoice to hear they were blessed. Our friends tell me that the sound of your Master’s feet was heard behind you. To Him, and Him alone, be all the glory! Thanks be to God! we do not go a warfare at our own charges. The Captain of our Salvation will conquer for, and in us. Let us but acknowledge Him in all our ways, and He will direct and prosper all our paths. Our enemies shall be at peace with us. The very ravens—birds of prey—shall be obliged to come and feed us. O for an increase of faith! I hope you have refreshing times from the presence of the Lord, among your own flock. O to end life well! Methinks, I have now but one more river to pass over,—Jordan; and we know who can carry us over, without being ankle deep. Yet a little while, and all true labourers shall enter into the joy of their Lord. Amen! Hallelujah!”
Despite his wish that Messrs. Keen and Hardy would continue to manage his London chapels, Whitefield was obliged to obtain supplies for them himself. To Mr. Andrew Kinsman, whom he was accustomed to address as his “dear Timothy,” he wrote:—
“London, September 20, 1765. Pray, when are we to have the honour of a visit from you? I believe more than three weeks are elapsed since you came to Bristol. Mr. Adams523 is to be your colleague here. I purpose for both of you to preach at the” (Tottenham Court Road) “chapel as well as at the Tabernacle. Write an immediate answer, fixing your time of coming; and you must not think of returning soon. I have been better in health for a week past than I have been for these four years. My wife,524 last night, returned well, from Bury. She indulges this morning, being weary; but, I take it for granted, that, you and I rise at five. Mr. Adams’s room will be large enough for you to breathe in. I shall never breathe as I would, till I breathe in heaven.”
Mr. Kinsman, in reply, evidently proposed that, if he came to supply in London, Whitefield should supply in Bristol. Apart from his health, Whitefield had no liking for this proposal. His labours at Bristol had not been so successful and happy as in other places. Hence the following extract from a second letter to Mr. Kinsman:—
“London, September 28, 1765.
“Nothing is wanting at Bristol, London, and elsewhere, but labourers full of the first old Methodistical spirit; but where to get them is the question. Those, who are thus minded, are almost worn out. I would gladly fly to Bristol if I could; but I see it is best to be here for some time. Besides, things have always been at such a low ebb, when I have been at Bristol, and matters carried on with so little spirit, that I have generally come away mourning. If a few, such as Mr. Collet,525 would exert themselves steadily and perseveringly, and if proper preachers were sent, something might be done to purpose; but, as neither of these things is likely to happen, my expectations are not much raised. However, the residue of the Spirit is in the Redeemer’s hands. Fain would I have you up at London for some time, at this season. Mr. D—r expects to see you in a clerical habit about Christmas. He asked me if I would get him a scarf? I answered, that, you must have one first. You may guess how he smiled. However, I really intend you shall preach in the” (Tottenham Court Road) “chapel. I want you also to read the letters, and give me leave to comment upon them, as my breath will allow.”
Without unduly commenting on Whitefield’s letter, there are five facts in it, which must be apparent to every careful reader;—three of them interesting, and two of great importance. 1. Tottenham Court Road chapel was considered to occupy a higher position, than the Tabernacle in Moorfields. 2. Meetings for reading letters were still held among Whitefield’s followers. 3. Bristol was not one of Whitefield’s favourite preaching places. 4. In Whitefield’s opinion, Methodist preachers were already deteriorated. 5. That, without right preachers and a working Church, spiritual progress is next to impossible.
On October 1, Whitefield set out for Bath. For twenty-five years, the Countess of Huntingdon had been accustomed to visit that fashionable city. Wherever she went, she took her religion with her, for her religion was a part of herself. Her position, in many respects, was new and peculiar. She seemed to be a combination of Puritan, Churchman, Dissenter, and Reformer. Her chief characteristic, however, was heartfelt and practical religion. Her lighted “candle” was never “put under a bushel.” On all suitable occasions, she was ready to speak of the sins and errors of her early life, and to tell of her conversion to God, and to insist that the same change is necessary in all. At Bath, she had conversed on religious subjects, with many of the most distinguished personages of the time. Whitefield, Charles Wesley, and others, had conducted religious services in her lodgings, and the services had been attended by considerable numbers of the aristocracy, who would have declined to enter an ordinary Methodist meeting-house. To meet the case of such, her ladyship, years ago, had built chapels of her own at Brighton, and at Bristol; and now she erected a third at Bath; and, soon afterwards, built a fourth at Tunbridge Wells,—all of them places of fashionable resort.
The chapel at Bath being completed, the Countess summoned six clergymen of the Church of England to the opening, namely, Whitefield, Romaine, Venn, Madan, Shirley,526 and Townsend.527 On October 6, Whitefield and Townsend preached, and an immense crowd attended, including a large number of the nobility, who had been specially invited by her ladyship.528 Whitefield mentions this event in the following letter addressed to Mr. Keen:—
“Bath, October 7, 1765.
“The Chapel is extremely plain, and yet equally grand. A most beautiful original!529 All was conducted with great solemnity. Though a very wet day, the place was very full; and assuredly the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, by His presence, consecrated and made it holy ground. I preached in the morning, and Mr. Townsend in the evening. I am to preach to-morrow night, and have hopes of setting off on Wednesday morning.”
Whitefield, probably, spent the remainder of the year in London. Wesley breakfasted with him on October 28, and spoke of him as “an old, old man, fairly worn out in his Master’s service, though he has hardly seen fifty years.”530 No doubt, he preached as often as he could. He was also occupied with his project for converting his Orphan House into a college. In a letter to Mr. Dixon, his manager, he wrote:—
“London, October 26, 1765.
“Bethesda matters are likely to come to a speedy and happy issue. We talk of my coming over again. It is not impossible, if my health admits. At present, blessed be God! I am better than I was last year. The word runs and is glorified in London.”
This was written only two days before he and Wesley breakfasted together. Evidently, he scarcely considered his case so serious as Wesley did. Hopefulness, throughout life, was one of his prominent characteristics. This was true at present, both in reference to his health and to the affairs of Bethesda. He was pushing the proposal for a college as much as possible; but the accomplishment of his wish was more remote than he expected. He had sent a memorial to the king, in which he embodied nearly the whole of his memorial to the Governor and Council of Georgia. That to the king concluded thus:—
“Upon the arrival of your memorialist, he was informed that this address, ‘of the General Assembly to the Governor of Georgia,’ was remitted to, and laid before the Lords Commissioners for Trade and Plantations; and, having received repeated advices that numbers both in Georgia and South Carolina are waiting with impatience to have their sons initiated in academical exercises, your memorialist therefore prays that a charter, upon the plan of New Jersey College, may be granted; upon which your memorialist is ready to give up his present trust, and make a free gift of all lands, negroes, goods, and chattels, which he now stands possessed of in the Province of Georgia, for the present founding, and towards the future support of a college, to be called by the name of Bethesda College, in the Province of Georgia.”
At this stage of the business, Bethesda must be left until the beginning of the year 1767.
One of the first of Whitefield’s good deeds, in 1766, was to heal a breach. Four years before, Wesley’s Society in London had been thrown into great confusion, by a large number of its members using the most fanatical expressions in reference to the doctrine of Christian Perfection. Thomas Maxfield, generally reputed (though incorrectly) to have been the first layman, whom Wesley authorised to preach, and George Bell, a corporal in the Life Guards, and who, for a season, seemed to be insane, became the chief agitators. The result was a great scandal, a reduction of Wesley’s metropolitan Society from 2,800 members to 2,200, and a Society debt of more than £600. After many strange vicissitudes, Bell was brought back to a better state of feeling, and Whitefield was the means of it. Wesley writes:—
“January 3, 1766. Mr. Bell called upon me, now calm, and in his right mind. God has repressed his furious, bitter zeal, by means of Mr. Whitefield.”
And again, a month later:—
“January 31. Mr. Whitefield called upon me. He breathes nothing but peace and love. Bigotry cannot stand before him, but hides its head wherever he comes.”531
Another event occurred about the same time, but of a painful character. In Lloyd’s Evening Post, for February 10, 1766, the following announcement was made:—
“Lately died suddenly, at the Countess of Huntingdon’s, at Bath, Mr. James Whitefield, formerly a merchant of Bristol, and brother of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield.”
At the commencement of the year, Whitefield was invited to Sheerness, where there existed a Society of what might be considered his followers. Some of Wesley’s preachers had visited the town. The simple-minded, but somewhat bigoted people took alarm. They were angry at their Calvinistic enclosure being approached by Arminian forces. Cornelius Winter, then in Kent, heard of this, and went and preached to them, from—“Gideon said unto him, O my lord, if the Lord be with us, why then is all this befallen us? And where be all His miracles which our fathers told us of, saying, Did not the Lord bring us out of Egypt? but now even the Lord hath forsaken us, and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.”532
The people now wanted Whitefield to visit them, and his affecting and admonitory answer was as follows:—
“London, January, 18, 1766.
“Dearly Beloved,—Not want of love, but of leisure and health, has occasioned you the trouble of writing a second letter. And now I am sorry to acquaint you, that it is not in my power to comply with your request. For want of more assistance, I am confined in town, with the care of two important posts, when I am only fit to be put into some garrison, among the invalids, to stand by an old gun or two. However, my former ambition still remains, and, through the help of your prayers, who knows but I may yet be strengthened to annoy the enemy? If others are blessed to do any execution, God forbid that I should hinder, though in all things they follow not with us. Let the Lord send by whom He will send. So that Christ is preached, and holiness promoted, I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.”
Whitefield was glad to get away from London. The care of his two chapels was too much for him. He went to Bath and Bristol, and was willing, if not wishful, to visit Wales. Hence the following to Mr. Keen:—
“Bristol, March 17, 1766. A desire to be free from London cares has made me indifferent about frequent hearing from thence. If dear Mr. Howell Davies will continue to officiate, I have a mind to visit Wales for him. Last Friday evening, and twice yesterday, I preached at Bath, to thronged and brilliant audiences.533 I am told it was a high day. The glory of the Lord filled the house. To-morrow, God willing, I return thither. Mr. Townsend is too ill to officiate. If any urgent business requires, be pleased to direct either to this place or Bath. Pray shew my wife this. Cordial respects attend her, yourself, dear Mr. Hardy and sisters, and Mr. Howell Davies. Many think old times are coming round again.”
At this period, England was visited by a man who rose to great notoriety. Samson Occum was a descendant of Uncas, the celebrated chief of the Mohegans, and was born at Mohegan, about the year 1723. His parents led a wandering life, dwelt in wigwams, and depended chiefly upon hunting and fishing for subsistence. During the religious excitement, at the time of Whitefield’s first visits to America, Occum was converted, chiefly by the preaching of Whitefield and Gilbert Tennent, and became desirous of acting as the teacher of his tribe. In a year or two, he learned to read the Bible, and then went to the Indian school of Mr. Wheelock, of Lebanon. Here he remained for four years. During the next ten or eleven years, he taught a school among the Indians, and also preached to them, in their own language. Many of his hearers became Christians. He lived in a house covered with mats, and changed his abode twice a year, to be near the planting ground in the summer, and the woods in the winter. Amongst his various toils for sustenance, he was expert with his fish-hook and his gun; he bound old books for the people at East Hampton; and made wooden spoons, cedar pails, piggins, and churns. In 1759, he was ordained by the Suffolk Presbytery. During his late visit to America, Whitefield met with Occum, took him along with him in his travels, and sometimes heard him preach.534 Now, in 1766, in company with the Rev. Mr. Whitaker, Occum was sent to England, to obtain subscriptions towards the support of Wheelock’s school.535 He was the first Indian preacher who had visited Great Britain. The chapels, in which he preached, were thronged. Between February 16, 1766, and July 22, 1767, he delivered, in various parts of the kingdom, above three hundred sermons. He and Mr. Whitaker met with the most liberal patronage from Christians of all denominations, and of all ranks in society. His majesty, King George III., gave a subscription of £200, and the whole contributions, in England and Scotland, amounted to £12,500.536 After his return, Occum sometimes resided at Mohegan, but was often employed in missionary labours among distant Indians. In 1786, he removed to Brotherton, near Utica, in the neighbourhood of the Stockbridge Indians, where he died in 1792.537 Upwards of three hundred Indians attended his funeral. A portrait of him appeared in the Evangelical Magazine for 1808. Whitefield refers to him and his mission, in the following letter to the Rev. Mr. Gillies, of Glasgow:—
“London, April 25, 1766.
“Reverend and very dear Sir,—Not want of love, but of leisure and better health, has prevented you hearing from me more frequently. I find I cannot do as I have done; but, through infinite mercy, I am enabled to ascend my gospel-throne three or four times a week; and a glorious influence attends the word. People have a hearing ear, but we want more preachers.
“The prospect of a large and effectual door opening among the heathen is very promising. Mr. Occum, the Indian preacher, is a settled humble Christian. The good and great, with a multitude of lower degree, heard him preach last week at Tottenham Court chapel, and felt much of the power and presence of our common Lord. Mr. Romaine has preached, and collected £100; and, I believe, seven or eight hundred pounds more are subscribed. Lord Dartmouth espouses the cause most heartily, and His majesty has become a contributor. The King of kings, and Lord of all lords, will bless them for it.
“I trust you and all my other dear friends at Glasgow are so grown as to become tall cedars in the spiritual Lebanon. I pray for them, though I cannot write to them. I hope all is well at Cambuslang. Blessed be God! all will be well in heaven. I will not interrupt you. You want to say, Amen! Hallelujah! I only add, when upon the mount, put in a word for an old friend, who retains his old name, ‘the chief of sinners, less than the least of all saints’—but, for Jesus Christ’s sake,
“Reverend and very dear sir, your willing servant,
“George Whitefield.”
Shortly after this, Whitefield formed a friendship with Thomas Powys, Esq., a gentleman in Shropshire, of large fortune and of high connections, who, in conjunction with Sir Richard Hill, in that county, became conspicuous for zeal in the cause of God and truth.538 To Mr. Powys, Whitefield wrote as follows:—
“Tottenham Court, May 15, 1766. Though at present almost in a breathless state, by preaching last night, yet I hope to be strengthened to give the holy sacrament at seven next Sunday morning; and, if able, to preach afterwards at ten. If good Mr. R—— and lady will come, at near seven, to the Chapel House, they shall be conducted to a proper place. I wish them a Pentecost, not only on Whit-Sunday, but every day, every hour, and every moment of their lives.”
In the month of June, Whitefield set out for Bath and Bristol. He complained of the continuance of his “feverish heat,” and drank the water of the Hot Wells twice a day; but managed, at six o’clock, in the mornings, “to call thirsty souls to come and drink of the water of life freely.”539
On his return to London, he and the Wesleys met several days in succession, for the purpose of promoting a closer union between themselves and the Countess of Huntingdon. Wesley had set out on one of his gospel tours, but was summoned back to join in these important conferences. He writes:—
“My brother and I conferred with Mr. Whitefield every day; and, let the honourable men do what they please, we resolved, by the grace of God, to go on, hand in hand, through honour and dishonour.”540
One of their arrangements was, that the Wesleys should preach in the chapels of the Countess of Huntingdon, as Whitefield, for many years, had been accustomed to preach in theirs. Charles Wesley was delighted. In a letter to his wife, he wrote:—
“London, August 21, 1766. Last night, my brother came. This morning, we spent two blessed hours with George Whitefield. The threefold cord, we trust, will never more be broken. On Tuesday next, my brother is to preach in Lady Huntingdon’s Chapel at Bath. That and all her chapels (not to say, as I might, herself also) are now put into the hands of us three.”541
Some, however, were dissatisfied. In another letter to his “Dear Sally,” written within three weeks afterwards, he remarks:—
“September 9, 1766. This morning, I spent in friendly, close conference with George Whitefield, who is treated most magnificently, by his own begotten children, for his love to us.”542
On the other hand, the Countess of Huntingdon approved of the arrangements made. In a letter to Wesley, she wrote:—
“September 14, 1766. I am most highly obliged by your kind offer of serving the chapel at Bath during your stay at Bristol. I do trust that this union which is commenced will be for the furtherance of our faith and mutual love to each other. It is for the interest of the best of causes that we should all be found, first, faithful to the Lord, and then to each other. I find something wanting, and that is, a meeting now and then agreed upon, that you, your brother, Mr. Whitefield, and I, should, at times, regularly communicate our observations upon the general state of the work. Light might follow, and would be a kind of guide to me, as I am connected with many.”543
This “quadruple alliance,” as Charles Wesley called it, lasted till Whitefield’s death. Then, as all readers of Methodist history are well aware, there was, in more respects than one, a distressing rupture.
Whitefield continued his pulpit labours, as far as he was able; and also wrote letters in abundance. Hence the following extracts from his correspondence.
John Fawcett, afterwards Doctor of Divinity, and, for above half a century, a laborious minister of Christ in Yorkshire, had recently begun to preach, and, having been convinced of sin under Whitefield’s ministry, he wrote to him, asking his advice. Part of the answer was as follows:—
“London, September 1, 1766. I have been so often imposed upon by letters from strangers, that it is high time to be a little more cautious” [in answering them]. “Besides, bodily weakness prevents my writing as formerly; but your letters seem to evidence simplicity of heart. If truly called to the glorious work of the ministry, of which I can be no judge at this distance, I wish you much prosperity in the name of the Lord. The language of my soul is, ‘Would to God that all the Lord’s servants were prophets!’ A clear head, and an honest, upright, disinterested, warm heart, with a good elocution, and a moderate degree of learning, will carry you through all, and enable you to do wonders. You will not fail to pray for a decayed, but, thanks be to God! not a disbanded soldier. Whether I shall ever visit Yorkshire again, is only known to Him, who holdeth the stars in His right hand.”544
The next extract is from a letter addressed to a gentleman at Wisbeach:—
“London, September 25, 1766. I am sorry your letter has been so long unanswered; but bodily weakness, and a multiplicity of correspondents, at home and abroad, must be pleaded as excuses. The shout of a King is yet heard in the Methodist camp. Had I wings, I would gladly fly from pole to pole; but they are clipped by the feeble labours of thirty years. Twice or thrice a week, I am permitted to ascend my gospel-throne. Pray that the last glimmering of an expiring taper may be blessed to the guiding of many wandering souls to the Lamb of God.”545
The next was written to Mr. Gustavus Gidley, an officer of Excise, who was the principal founder of Wesley’s Society in Exeter, and the chief promoter of Wesley’s first chapel in that city:—
“London, October 2, 1766. The love of Christ constrains me to wish you joy. Of what? Of being made partaker of the grace and cross of Christ. You will find that both are inseparably connected. God be praised that you have an inclination to invite others to partake of your joy in the Lord. Thus, your brother Matthew the publican did. He made a feast. Jesus, that friend of publicans and sinners, was there. With such He is now; and with such, to all eternity, He will be surrounded in the kingdom of glory. There you and I must strive which will shout loudest, ‘Grace, grace!’ And why should not this contest begin on earth? It will, it must, if the kingdom of God be within us. Look continually unto Jesus. That He may be the Alpha and Omega—the beginning and end of all your thoughts, words, and deeds, is the earnest prayer of, dear sir,
“Your brother sinner,
“George Whitefield.”546
Not unfrequently was Whitefield accused of disloyalty. From first to last, all such charges were absolutely false and calumnious. If he erred at all, it was in expressing his attachment to the throne and government of the day, in language stronger than they merited. His eulogiums of George II. were extravagant, but it would be unjust to designate them insincere. Everywhere, at home and abroad, he availed himself of every opportunity to evince his fidelity to his rightful sovereign, and his respect for the House of Hanover. This, at the time, was of more than ordinary importance. Jacobite and popish plots were numerous. Traitors existed in abundance. Loyal men were needed, and declarations of loyalty were of greater value than at present, when treason is not so rampant as it was in the days of the Pretender. Such facts will help to explain the following incident:—
On October 1, Her Royal Highness Princess Caroline Matilda, sister of George III., at the age of sixteen, was married to the worthless king of Denmark. The ceremony was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in the Grand Council Chamber at St. James’s, in the presence of the Royal Family and a large number of the English nobility. The puny king of Denmark was not present; but Her Royal Highness’s brother, the Duke of York, acted as his proxy. On the day after the marriage, at half-past six o’clock in the morning, the young queen set out for Harwich, to embark for Denmark, being escorted by a detachment of Horse Guards, and a numerous train of attendants. On the same day, says Lloyd’s Evening Post, “The Rev. Mr. Whitefield preached, at the Tabernacle, in praise of the queen of Denmark, and concluded with a fervent prayer for her preservation and good journey.”
This was an odd kind of service for worn-out Whitefield to undertake; but loyalty to the House of Hanover led him for once to use his “gospel-throne” in sounding the praises, not of King Jesus, but of the unfortunate queen of Denmark.
Among others, who now began to render assistance in Whitefield’s London chapels, was the saintly Fletcher, vicar of Madeley.547 It is not improbable that this was one of the results of the “quadruple alliance,” formed two months before. Be that as it may, the following extract from Whitefield’s letter to Mr. Powys will interest the reader:—
“London, November 1, 1766. Dear Mr. Fletcher is become a scandalous Tottenham Court preacher. I trust he will come down into your parts, baptized with the Holy Ghost. Dear Mr. Romaine has been much owned in good Lady Huntingdon’s chapel” (at Bath). “I am to go thither next week. Dear Mr. Madan is detained at Aldwinkle, by his children having the small-pox in town. The shout of a King is yet heard in the Methodist camp. The glorious cry, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’ is frequently sounding in our years. Had we more reproach, and were we more scandalous, more good would be done. Several promise well. Some say shibboleth with a good grace, and very proper accent; others, as yet, can only say sibboleth; but I have heard of one who can teach the tongue of the stammerer to speak plain. Good Lady Huntingdon is an excellent school-mistress in this way. But I must have done. A dear company of ministerial cast-outs are coming to breakfast under my despised roof. I cannot die. Cold bathing and cool weather brace me up.”
Whitefield went to Bath, as he intended; and, whilst there, wrote to his faithful friend, Mr. Keen, as follows:—
“Bath, November 12, 1766. I have been low ever since my coming here. The Bath air, I believe, will never agree with me long. However, if good is done, all will be well. They tell me, that Sunday and last night were seasons of power. Some, we trust, were made willing. I hope you enjoy much of God in town. Surely, London is the Jerusalem of England. Happy they who know the day of their visitation! Remember me to all at the Tabernacle. I hope to write to Mr. Fletcher to-morrow or next day.”
“Bath, November 20, 1766. On Tuesday evening, I preached at Bristol, to a very crowded auditory, though the weather was very foul. Last night” (Wednesday) “I administered the sacrament there. We used near eight bottles of wine. I trust some tasted of the new wine of the kingdom. I want just one week more to settle Bristol affairs; and have, therefore, written to dear Mr. Jesse548 to stay two or three weeks at London. Mr. Howell Davies,549 who, they say, is expected here next week, may then officiate for that space of time at Bath, and, at Mr. Jesse’s leaving London, may go up to town. I beg that Captain Joss would go through with the Tabernacle work, and stick to it with his whole heart. I hope, at farthest, to be in London by next Tuesday se’nnight, and to preach at the Tabernacle the following evening. I was afraid my wife would get cold by her late excursions, as, at other times, she is so much confined. Be pleased to show this to her.”
“Bristol, November 23, 1766. Such a numerous brilliant assembly of the mighty and noble, I never saw attend before at Bath. Everything is so promising, that I was constrained to give notice of preaching next Sunday. Congregations have been very large and very solemn. O what Bethels has Jesus given to us! O that God would make my way into every town in England! I long to break up fresh ground. I am just come here, weary, but am going to speak a few words.”
Captain Joss has just been mentioned, and deserves further notice. Torial Joss was born on September 29, 1731, at Auck-Medden, a small village, on the sea coast, about twenty miles north of Aberdeen. His father died when Torial was very young; his mother neglected him; and he went to sea. The vessel in which he sailed was taken by the French, and he became an inmate of a foreign prison, where his sufferings were great. At the age of fifteen, he returned to Scotland; was seized by a press-gang; and sent on board a man-of-war. He made his escape; travelled to Sunderland; and bound himself an apprentice to the captain of a coasting vessel, belonging to Robin Hood’s Bay. By overhearing a religious conversation, and by reading the works of Bunyan, and “The Whole Duty of Man,” he was converted. The Methodist preachers visited Robin Hood’s Bay; a number of the people were convinced of sin; and Wesley came and formed them into a Society. Previous to this, Torial had begun to pray and exhort in public; and Wesley encouraged him to continue. He was now about eighteen years of age, and became a member of Wesley’s Society. When his apprenticeship expired, he was appointed first mate of his captain’s vessel. Wherever the ship put into port, he tried to preach, and, in some instances, suffered cruel persecution. At Shields, a press-gang dragged him through the town, amid shoutings and triumph, and sent him on board a tender, where he was kept a prisoner for seven weeks. The profane swearing and the obscene language of the crew were terrific trials; and, added to this, having but twenty minutes in forty-eight hours on deck, he was nearly suffocated with the foul air and heat. Soon after his release, he was made captain of a ship, set up regular worship, and, as often as the weather would permit, preached regularly to his crew. During a long detention at Berwick-upon-Tweed, his preaching to the crowds was so successful, that a gentleman wrote to Whitefield, telling him Joss was sailing to London, in a vessel named the Hartley Trader, but which the people nicknamed “The Pulpit.” On arriving in the Thames, Joss was surprised by being told that Whitefield had announced him to preach in the Tabernacle. Whitefield was so gratified with the sermon, that he urged the captain to quit the compass, the chart, and the ocean, for the Christian pulpit. After considerable delay, Joss, in 1766, yielded to Whitefield’s wish, and, henceforth, acted as one of his assistants. In London, his congregations were crowds, and his sermons full of converting power. Four or five months every year he spent in itinerating, regularly visiting Bristol, Gloucestershire, and South Wales, and, occasionally, other parts of the kingdom. In Wales, especially, the people followed him in multitudes, and, on Sundays, would travel twenty miles to hear him. He died in 1797, and was interred in Tottenham Court Road chapel.550 Berridge used to call him “The Archdeacon of Tottenham.”551
Another of Whitefield’s helpers must be introduced. Captain Scott, son of Richard Scott, Esq., of Betton, in the county of Salop, belonged to the 7th regiment of dragoons. He was present at the famous battle, at Minden, on the 1st of August, 1759, attached to the cavalry of the right wing, commanded by Lord George Sackville. After this, he became the subject of powerful religious impressions, and made it his daily practice to read the psalms and lessons of the day. In due time, he heard Romaine, and found peace with God. He soon began to preach. Fletcher of Madeley, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, wrote:—
“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott—a captain of the truth, a bold soldier of Jesus Christ. He boldly launches into an irregular usefulness. For some months, he has exhorted his dragoons daily; for some weeks, he has preached publicly at Leicester, in the Methodist meeting-house, in his regimentals, to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular ones pursue him with hue and cry; but, I believe, he is quite beyond their reach. I believe this red coat will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me.”
Whitefield heard of the military preacher, and, on February 12, 1767, wrote to him as follows:—
“What, not answer so modest a request as to send dear Captain Scott a few lines! God forbid! I must again welcome him into the field of battle. I must entreat him to keep his rank as a captain, and not suffer any persuasions to influence him to descend to the lower degree of a common soldier. If God shall choose a red-coat preacher, who shall say unto Him, ‘What doest Thou?’
‘Strong in the Lord’s almighty power,
And armed in panoply divine,
Firm may’st thou stand in danger’s hour,
And prove the strength of Jesus thine.
The helmet of salvation take;
The Lord the Spirit’s conquering sword;
Speak from the word; in lightning speak;
Cry out, and thunder from the Lord.’
“Gladly would I come, and, in my poor way, endeavour to strengthen your hands; but, alas! I am fit for nothing but, as an invalid, to be put into some garrison, and then put my hand to some old gun. Blessed be the Captain of our salvation for drafting out young champions to reconnoitre and attack the enemy. You will beat the march in every letter and bid the common soldiers not halt, but go forward. Hoping one day to see your face in the flesh, and more than hoping to see you crowned with glory in the kingdom of heaven, I am, my dear captain, yours in our all-glorious Captain-General,
“George Whitefield.”552
As yet, Whitefield had not seen Captain Scott; but he requested him to come and preach in London. “I have invited the captain,” said Whitefield to the Tabernacle congregation, “to bring his artillery to the Tabernacle rampart, and try what execution he can do here.” Soon after this, Captain Scott sold his commission, and, for upwards of twenty years, was one of the supplies of the Tabernacle pulpit.553
In this same year, 1766, Whitefield entered into correspondence with another distinguished man, who was destined, for a brief period, to be one of his successors at the Tabernacle and at Tottenham Court Road chapel. Rowland Hill, the sixth son of Sir Rowland Hill, Bart., was now twenty-one years of age. He had been to school at Eton, and, for the last two years, had been an undergraduate at Cambridge. Here he became intimately acquainted with good old Berridge, of Everton, and scarcely a week elapsed without their holding religious intercourse with each other. Rowland, even now, was full of religious fire and energy and boldness. He had already been the means of awakening anxiety about their souls in several of his fellow-students. He had also visited the gaol, and the sick, and had begun to preach in several places in Cambridge, and in the adjacent villages. This brought upon him the severest censure of his college. Mobs also commenced to insult him; and, at length, the opposition he encountered became so serious, that he wrote to Whitefield for advice. Whitefield’s reply was as follows:—
“London, December 27, 1766.
“About thirty-four years ago, the master of Pembroke College, where I was educated, took me to task for visiting the sick, and going to the prisons. In my haste, I said, ‘Sir, if it displeaseth you, I will go no more.’ My heart smote me immediately. I repented, and went again. He heard of it, and threatened; but, for fear he should be looked upon as a persecutor, let me alone. The hearts of all are in the Redeemer’s hands. I would not have you give way, no not for a moment. The storm is too great to hold long. Visiting the sick and imprisoned, and instructing the ignorant, are the very vitals of true and undefiled religion. If threatened, denied degree, or expelled for this, it will be the best degree you can take—a glorious preparative for, and a blessed presage of, future usefulness. I have seen the dreadful consequences of giving way and looking back. How many, by this wretched cowardice, have been turned into pillars, not of useful, but of useless salt! Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum. Now is the time to prove the strength of Jesus yours. If opposition did not so much abound, your consolations would not so abound. Blind as he is, Satan sees some great good coming. We never prospered so much at Oxford, as when we were hissed at and reproached as we walked along the street. Go on, therefore, my dear man, go on. Old Berridge, I believe, would give you the same advice. You are honoured in sharing his reproach and name. God be praised, that you are helped to bless when others blaspheme. Do not drop the Bible and old books. You write good sense. Nothing is wanting but to write it in a proper manner. God bless, direct, and prosper you! He will, He will. Good Lady Huntingdon is in town. She will rejoice to hear you are under the cross. You will not want her prayers, or the prayers of, my dear young honest friend,
“Yours, in the all-conquering Jesus,
“George Whitefield.554
“To Mr. Rowland Hill,
“At St. John’s College, Cambridge.”
For above thirty years, Whitefield had been the butt of persecution, and, therefore, was not unprepared to give advice to young Rowland Hill. He was still hunted by the hatred of his enemies. Among other publications, there was issued, about this period, a sixpenny pamphlet, in folio, with the title, “The Celebrated Lecture upon Heads,” most of which is too coarse and blasphemous to be quoted. One specimen, concerning Whitefield, must suffice.