“In 1784, I visited my friends in New England, and, hearing that Whitefield’s body was undecayed, I went to see it. A lantern and candle being provided, we entered the tomb. Our guide opened the coffin lid down to Whitefield’s breast. His body was perfect. I felt his cheeks, his breast, etc.; and the skin immediately rose after I had touched it. Even his lips were not consumed, nor his nose. His skin was considerably discoloured through dust and age, but there was no effluvium; and even his gown was not much impaired, nor his wig.”

If this were true in 1784, it had ceased to be a fact in 1796. In a letter dated “Newbury Port, August 15, 1801,” William Mason remarks: “About five years ago, a few friends were permitted to open Whitefield’s coffin. We found the flesh totally consumed, but the gown, cassock, and bands were almost the same as when he was buried in them.”687 After all, the two statements are not incompatible; and it has been asserted, that “several other corpses are in the same state,” as Whitefield’s was said to have been in fourteen years after his decease, “owing to the vast quantities of nitre with which the earth there abounds.”688

A cenotaph in honour of Whitefield’s friends, John and Charles Wesley, has recently been erected in Westminster Abbey. That is a distinction which has not been conferred on Whitefield.

Indeed, I am not aware that England has now any monument of Whitefield whatever. Gillies says that, at the bottom of Mrs. Whitefield’s monument, in Tottenham Court Road chapel, an inscription was placed in memory of Whitefield himself; but that monument, years ago, was broken, and has disappeared. The inscription, composed by Titus Knight, of Halifax, is not worth quoting. One cenotaph exists—and, so far as I know, only one, in either England or America. That is in the chapel containing Whitefield’s bones and dust. It is a plain, but tasteful tablet, surmounted by a flame burning from an uncovered urn; and its history is the following. The Rev. Dr. Proudfit, a former pastor of the old South Church, Newbury Port, remarked at its centenary anniversary in 1856:—

“As my eye rests on that monument, let me recall the way in which it came there. I called one evening on Mr. Bartlett. He told me he had heard Whitefield, when he was boy, and had never forgotten the impression made upon him by his preaching. He expressed a desire to have a suitable monument erected to his memory in this church. He asked if I would look after the matter, and employ an eminent artist to do the work. I enquired how much he was willing it should cost. ‘On that point,’ he replied, ‘I leave you entirely at liberty. Let it be something worthy of a great and good man.’ That monument, designed by Strickland, and executed by Strothers, is the result. I used the liberty he gave me moderately. Had it cost ten times as much, he would, no doubt, have paid it cheerfully. When the artist presented the demand, Mr. Bartlett gave him one hundred dollars above the amount. When I was in England, the congregations at Tottenham Court and at the Tabernacle intimated a desire to have Whitefield’s remains removed to England; but when I told them what Mr. Bartlett had done, they said, if any American gentleman was willing to give £300 to do honour to Whitefield’s memory, America was well entitled to his remains.”689

This monument was not put up until the year 1828. The inscription, written by Dr. Ebenezer Porter, of Andover,690 is as follows:—

This Cenotaph

is erected, with affectionate veneration,

To the Memory of

The Rev. GEORGE WHITEFIELD,

Born at Gloucester, England, December 16, 1714;

Educated at Oxford University; ordained 1736.

In a ministry of thirty-four years,

He crossed the Atlantic thirteen times,

And preached more than eighteen thousand Sermons.

As a soldier of the cross, humble, devout, ardent,

He put on the whole armour of God:

Preferring the honour of Christ to his own interest, repose, reputation, and life.

As a Christian orator, his deep piety, disinterested zeal, and vivid imagination,

Gave unexampled energy to his look, utterance, and action.

Bold, fervent, pungent, and popular in his eloquence,

No other uninspired man ever preached to so large assemblies,

Or enforced the simple truths of the Gospel by motives so persuasive and awful, and with an influence so powerful, on the hearts of his hearers.

He died of asthma, September 30, 1770:

Suddenly exchanging his life of unparalleled labours for his eternal rest.”

It ought to be added that another, and more imposing, monument to Whitefield’s memory, was proposed to be erected in 1839. In that year, the Congregational ministers of Gloucestershire associated themselves together in a society called the “Christian Union,” and determined to preach, in the open air, in every town, village, and hamlet of their county. They went forth, like the seventy of old, by two and two, in the prosecution of their mission. While these services were being held, many of the missioners met in a central town, when one of them proposed, that, as the present year was “the centenary of Whitefield’s labours in reviving the apostolic practice of open-air preaching,—that as Whitefield was a native of Gloucester,—and that as Stinchcombe Hill was one of the places where Whitefield preached a century ago,”—it would be well to hold a monster meeting there for the promotion of evangelical religion. The proposal was favourably received; and, on Tuesday, July 30, nearly one hundred ministers and twenty thousand people assembled on the summit of this memorable hill. Drs. Redford, Ross, and Matheson, with the Rev. Messrs. East, Hinton, and Sibree, preached upon appropriate subjects, previously announced; and hymns, specially composed by J. Conder, Esq., and others, were sung on the occasion. The rain, during the afternoon, fell in torrents, but, till about five o’clock, when they adjourned to Dursley, the vast assemblage preserved the utmost order and compactness. The party partook of dinner and tea upon the hill, in large booths and tents erected for the day; and the services were, in all respects, remarkable. A few fastidious persons thought the preachers dwelt more on Whitefield than was seemly, forgetting, however, that the design of the commemoration was specially to use Whitefield’s character and example for the glory of God, the illustration of piety, the instruction of the world, and the revival of religion. The results were, the ministers of the county re-entered with ardour upon their itinerant engagements, the churches of the neighbourhood were refreshed, and several modes of perpetuating the influence of Whitefield’s piety were proposed.

At the half-yearly meeting of the Gloucestershire Association, held in Bristol soon after, an “Address to the Christian Public” was read and adopted, and afterwards published, to the following effect:—

“It is proposed to erect, by small subscriptions, a plain monumental column, surmounted by a statue, on the summit of Stinchcombe Hill, near Dursley, to commemorate the life and labours of the Rev. George Whitefield. The site appears peculiarly eligible, as being situated in the centre of his native county, the scene of some of his earliest itinerant labours, surrounded by churches established by his ministry, and commanding a prospect of twelve or thirteen counties, together with much of the Bristol Channel. A noble column, upon such a base, to testify that tens of thousands regard his labours as blessed of God to the revival of religion in our land, will exert a moral influence which many may undervalue, but which few can calculate. Thousands, as they travel on the great highway, almost beneath the shadow of the statue, will think and talk of Whitefield,—of his life, his labours, and his holy success, as they have never done before. Its erection would open a chapter in the book of providence, which many, who never enter our sanctuaries, will be obliged to read; and will cherish, perhaps, amongst themselves, an imitation of those zealous labours, which God made so pre-eminently useful. We suggest a subscription of a shilling each person; and hope, by this means, to erect a magnificent testimonial of one who was in England as great a blessing to his country, as he was in America an honour. Whitefield was a man of no sect; the sphere of his labours had no boundary; holding office, as it were, in every church, his communion was with the pious of every name. In the erection of this cenotaph all may unite—the Episcopalian, who would say with Toplady, that ‘he was a true and faithful son of the Church of England,’—the Dissenter, who considers his whole course but practical independency,—the Calvinist, who admires his conscientious adherence to the truth,—and, likewise, the Wesleyan, who remembers him as, in life and death, the dearest friend of Wesley.”691

An instinctive awe pervades thoughtful men when in the presence of the last earthly remains of those who wielded a controlling influence upon their times. Napoleon lingered thoughtfully and reverently in the tomb of Frederick the Great. The Prince of Wales took off his hat at the grave of Washington. This may be a sort of hero-worship, but it is not a weakness. Thousands have entered the vault beneath the pulpit at Newbury Port, to look at the open coffin of Whitefield, the good and eloquent. The coffin, apparently of oak, is yet undecayed, and rests upon the coffin of a Mr. Prince, a blind preacher, and one of the first pastors of the church. The skull, the bones of the arms, the backbone, and the ribs are in good preservation. Many years ago, Mr. Bolton, an Englishman, and one of Whitefield’s great admirers, wished to obtain a small memento of the great preacher. A friend of Bolton’s stole the main bone of Whitefield’s right arm, and sent it to England in a parcel. Bolton was horrified with his friend’s sacrilegious act, and carefully returned the bone, in 1837, to the Rev. Dr. Stearns, then pastor of the church at Newbury Port. Great interest was created by the restoration of Whitefield’s relic; a procession of two thousand people followed it to the grave; and it was restored to its original position.692 That bone now lies crosswise near the region of the breast; and the little box, in which it was returned, is laid upon the coffin.693

The good taste of those who exhibit the dust and bones of Whitefield may be fairly doubted; but so long as they are exposed to the public view, Whitefield’s sepulchre will have its visitors. Of the numerous descriptions published by those whose curiosity or piety had brought them to Whitefield’s resting-place, one only shall suffice,—and that by an outsider. Henry Vincent, the eloquent English lecturer, thus described his visit in 1867694:—

“We descended into a cellar, through a trap-door behind the pulpit, and entered the tomb of the great preacher. The upper part of the lid of Whitefield’s coffin opens upon hinges. We opened the coffin carefully, and saw all that was mortal of the eloquent divine. The bones are blackened, as though charred by fire. The skull is perfect. I placed my hand upon the forehead, and thought of the time when the active brain within throbbed with love to God and man; and when those silent lips swayed the people of England, from the churchyard in Islington to Kennington Common,—from the hills and valleys of Gloucestershire to the mouths of the Cornish mines, and on through the growing colonies of America. In these days of High Church pantomime, would it not be well to turn our attention to the times of Whitefield and his glorious friend Wesley? Not by new decorations and scenery,—not by candles and crosses,—not by what Wycliffe boldly called the ‘priests’ rags,’—not by Pan-Anglican Synods, or by moaning out bits of Scripture in unearthly chants; but by such lives as those of Whitefield and Wesley, are the people to be reached and won. I confess that, as an Englishman, I envy America the possession of the earthly remains of dear George Whitefield; but perhaps it is appropriate that, while England claims the dust of Wesley, the great republic should be the guardian of the dust of his holy brother.”695

The Americans are proud of their possession, and, to this day, not only preserve his sepulchre, but, at Newbury Port, still use in the pulpit the old Bible out of which Whitefield was wont to read his texts, and still keep the old chair in which he died, and still shew the ring taken from the finger of his corpse.

Excepting the value of the copyright of his publications, Wesley died almost penniless; and the same would have been Whitefield’s case, but for certain legacies bequeathed to him only a short time before his death. By the decease of his wife, in 1768, he became possessed of £700. Mrs. Thomson, of Tower Hill, bequeathed him £500; Mr. Whitmore, £100; and Mr. Winder, £100;697 making a total of £1,400. This, in round figures, was the sum disposed of in Whitefield’s “last will and testament.” The Orphan House buildings, furniture, slaves, and lands might be regarded as property held in trust, and, as such, were left “to that elect lady, that mother in Israel, that mirror of true and undefiled religion, the Right Honourable Selina, Countess-Dowager of Huntingdon;”698 and, in case of her death, to Whitefield’s “dear first fellow-traveller, and faithful, invariable friend, the Honourable James Habersham, Esq., President of His Majesty’s Honourable Council,” in Georgia. The Tabernacle, and Tottenham Court Road chapel, with the adjacent manses, coach-houses, stables, and other buildings, having been erected, in great part, by the subscriptions of the public, were also, in a certain sense, trust properties; and were left to be managed by Whitefield’s “worthy, trusty, tried friends, Daniel West, Esq., in Church Street, Spitalfields; and Mr. Robert Keen, woollen draper, in the Minories.” The remainder of Whitefield’s bequests were as follows:—

  £ s. d.
Lady Huntingdon 100 0 0
The Honourable James Habersham, for mourning 10 0 0
Gabriel Harris, Esq., of Gloucester 50 0 0
Ambrose Wright, a faithful servant 500 0 0
Mr. Richard Whitefield, a brother 50 0 0
Mr. Thomas Whitefield, a brother 50 0 0
Mr. James Smith, a brother-in-law 80 0 0
Mrs. Frances Hartford, a niece 70 0 0
Mr. J. Crane, steward at the Orphan House 40 0 0
Mr. Benjamin Stirk, for mourning 10 0 0
Peter Edwards,699 at the Orphan House 50 0 0
William Trigg, at ditto 50 0 0
Mr. Thomas Adams, of Rodborough 50 0 0
Rev. Mr. Howell Davies, for mourning 10 0 0
Mr. Torial Joss, for ditto 10 0 0
Mr. Cornelius Winter, for ditto 10 0 0
Mr. Ambrose Wright’s three brothers, for ditto 30 0 0
Ditto’s sister-in-law, for ditto 10 0 0
Mr. Richard Smith 50 0 0
The old servants in London, the widows, etc., for mourning 100 0 0
  £1330 0 0

The residue of Whitefield’s monies, if any, were to be given to the Orphan House Academy. His wife’s gold watch, he bequeathed to James Habersham; his wearing apparel, to Richard Smith; to his four executors, James Habersham, Charles Hardy, Daniel West, and Robert Keen, each a mourning ring; also, he added:—

“I leave a mourning ring to my honoured and dear friends and disinterested fellow-labourers, the Rev. Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, in token of my indissoluble union with them, in heart and Christian affection, notwithstanding our difference in judgment about some particular points of doctrine. Grace be with all them, of whatever denomination, that love our Lord Jesus, our common Lord, in sincerity.”

The conclusion of Whitefield’s will is too characteristic to be omitted:—

“To all my other Christian benefactors, and more intimate acquaintance, I leave my most hearty thanks and blessing, assuring them that I am more and more convinced of the undoubted reality and infinite importance of the grand gospel truths, which I have, from time to time, delivered; and am so far from repenting my delivering them in an itinerant way, that, had I strength equal to my inclination, I would preach them from pole to pole, not only because I have found them to be the power of God to the salvation of my own soul, but because I am as much assured that the Great Head of the Church hath called me by His Word, Providence, and Spirit, to act in this way, as that the sun shines at noonday. As for my enemies, and misjudging, mistaken friends, I most freely and heartily forgive them, and can only add, that the last tremendous day will soon discover what I have been, what I am, and what I shall be when time itself shall be no more. And, therefore, from my inmost soul, I close all, by crying, ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Even so, Lord Jesus! Amen and amen!’

“George Whitefield.”

Whitefield’s will was written by himself, and signed, at the Orphan House, on March 22, 1770, in the presence of Robert Bolton, Thomas Dixon, and Cornelius Winter, as witnesses. It was proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, on February 5, 1771.700

When great men die, poets sing. So it was in the case of Whitefield. To say nothing of poems printed in newspapers and magazines, the following were a few of the elegies published separately: “Zion in Distress, an Elegy on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By W. S.” “The Bromsgrove Elegy, in blank verse, in which are represented the Subjects of his Ministry, his Manner of Preaching, the Success of his Labours, his excellent Moral Character, and his Death. By John Fellows, of Bromsgrove, in Worcestershire.” “An Elegy. By Jacob Rowel.” “An Elegy, exhibiting a brief History of the Life, Labours, and Glorious Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By T. Knight, Minister of the Gospel at Halifax.”701 “A Monody on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield.” “An Elegiac Poem, dedicated to the Memory of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. By James Stevens, Preacher of the Gospel.” “Elegiac Lines. By Rev. Mr. De Courcy.”702 “A Pastoral. By the Rev. Walter Shirley.”703

All these were pious, and some of them respectable. The best published was by Whitefield’s oldest friend: “An Elegy on the late Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., who died September 30, 1770, in the 56th year of his age. By Charles Wesley, M.A., Presbyter of the Church of England. Bristol: 1771.” (8vo. 29 pp.) No one knew or loved Whitefield better than Charles Wesley did; and the following extracts from his “Elegy” may be acceptable:—

“And is my Whitefield enter’d into rest,

With sudden death, with sudden glory blest?

Left for a few sad moments here behind,

I bear his image on my faithful mind;

To future times the fair example tell

Of one who lived, of one who died, so well,

Pay the last office of fraternal love,

And then embrace my happier friend above.”

“Can I the memorable day forget,

When first we, by Divine appointment, met?

Where undisturb’d the thoughtful student roves,

In search of truth, through academic groves,

A modest, pensive youth, who mus’d alone,

Industrious the frequented path to shun:

An Israelite without disguise or art

I saw, I loved, and clasp’d him to my heart,

A stranger as my bosom friend carest,

And unawares receiv’d an angel-guest.”

“Through his abundant toils, with fixt amaze,

We see reviv’d the work of ancient days;

In his unspotted life, with joy we see

The fervours of primeval piety:

A pattern to the flock by Jesus bought,

A living witness of the truths He taught,—

He shew’d the man regenerate from above,

By fraudless innocence, and childlike love.

For friendship form’d by nature and by grace,

(His heart made up of truth and tenderness),

Stranger to guile, unknowing to deceive,

In anger, malice, or revenge to live,

Betwixt the mountain and the multitude,

His life was spent in prayer and doing good.”

“Though long by following multitudes admir’d,

No party for himself he e’er desir’d,

His one desire to make the Saviour known,

To magnify the name of Christ alone:

If others strove who should the greatest be,

No lover of pre-eminence was he,

Nor envied those his Lord vouchsaf’d to bless,

But joy’d in theirs as in his own success,

His friends in honour to himself preferr’d,

And least of all in his own eyes appear’d.”

“Single his eye, transparently sincere,

His upright heart did in his words appear,

His cheerful heart did in his visage shine;

A man of true simplicity divine,

Not always as the serpent wise, yet love

Preserv’d him harmless as the gentle dove;

Or if into mistake through haste he fell,

He shew’d what others labour to conceal;

Convinc’d, no palliating excuses sought,

But freely own’d his error, or his fault.”

“Shall I a momentary loss deplore,

Lamenting after him that weeps no more?

What though, forbid by the Atlantic wave,

I cannot share my old companion’s grave,

Yet, at the trumpet’s call, my dust shall rise,

With his fly up to Jesus in the skies,

And live with him the life that never dies.”

Charles Wesley often wrote more polished poetry than this, but his loving lines truthfully pourtray some of the features of Whitefield’s character, and, likewise, shew the profound affection which he cherished for his brother George.

Before leaving the poets, another extract may be welcome. There is no evidence to shew that Whitefield and William Cowper were personally acquainted, but John Newton and some other of Cowper’s friends were among Whitefield’s most ardent admirers; and, therefore, it is not surprising that Cowper should have enshrined the famous preacher in his poesy. Soon after Whitefield’s death, Cowper wrote his well-known poem, entitled “Hope,” in which Whitefield was graphically described as follows:—

“Leuconomus (beneath well-sounding Greek)

I slur a name a poet must not speak,

Stood pilloried on infamy’s high stage,

And bore the pelting scorn of half an age,

The very butt of slander, and the blot

For every dart that malice ever shot.

“The man that mention’d him, at once dismiss’d

All mercy from his lips, and sneer’d and hiss’d;

His crimes were such as Sodom never knew,

And Perjury stood up to swear all true;

His aim was mischief, and his zeal pretence,

His speech rebellion against common sense;

A knave, when tried on honesty’s plain rule,

And when by that of reason, a mere fool;

The world’s best comfort was, his doom was pass’d,

Die when he might, he must be damn’d at last.

“Now, Truth, perform thine office; waft aside

The curtain drawn by prejudice and pride,

Reveal (the man is dead) to wondering eyes

This more than monster in his proper guise.

“He loved the world that hated him; the tear

That dropp’d upon his Bible was sincere.

Assail’d by scandal and the tongue of strife,

His only answer was a blameless life,

And he that forged and he that threw the dart,

Had each a brother’s interest in his heart.

Paul’s love of Christ, and steadiness unbribed,

Were copied close in him, and well transcribed;

He follow’d Paul; his zeal a kindred flame,

His apostolic charity the same;

Like him, cross’d cheerfully tempestuous seas,

Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease;

Like him he labour’d, and, like him content

To bear it, suffer’d shame where’er he went.

“Blush, Calumny; and write upon his tomb,

If honest eulogy can spare thee room,

Thy deep repentance of thy thousand lies,

Which, aim’d at him, have pierced the offended skies;

And say, Blot out my sin, confess’d, deplored,

Against Thine image in Thy saint, O Lord!”

No higher eulogy on Whitefield than this of the poet Cowper can be properly pronounced. It elaborates that of the celebrated Rev. Benjamin Grosvenor, D.D., who, after listening to one of Whitefield’s sermons about the year 1741, remarked, “If the Apostle Paul had preached to this auditory, he would have preached in the same manner.”704

“If you should die abroad,” said Mr. Keen, “whom shall we get to preach your funeral sermon? Must it be your old friend the Rev. Mr. John Wesley?” This question was often put, and as often Whitefield answered, “He is the man.”705

The news of Whitefield’s death reached London on November 5.706 At the time, Wesley was at Norwich; but, five days afterwards, he wrote:—

“Saturday, November 10, 1770. I returned to London, and had the melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield’s death confirmed by his executors, who desired me to preach his funeral sermon on Sunday, the 18th.707 In order to write this, I retired to Lewisham on Monday; and, on Sunday following, went to the chapel in Tottenham Court Road. An immense multitude was gathered together from all corners of the town.708 I was at first afraid that a great part of the congregation would not be able to hear; but it pleased God so to strengthen my voice, that even those at the door heard distinctly. It was an awful season: all were still as night; most appeared to be deeply affected; and an impression was made on many, which one would hope will not speedily be effaced.

“The time appointed for my beginning at the Tabernacle was half an hour after five; but it was quite filled at three; so I began at four. At first, the noise was exceeding great; but it ceased when I began to speak; and my voice was again so strengthened that all who were within could hear, unless an accidental noise hindered here or there for a few moments. O that all may hear the voice of Him with whom are the issues of life and death; and who so loudly, by this unexpected stroke, calls all His children to love one another!”

In addition to the services on November 18, Wesley, on two other occasions, improved the death of his old and much-loved friend. Hence the following extracts from his Journal:—

“Friday, November 23. Being desired by the trustees of the Tabernacle at Greenwich to preach Mr. Whitefield’s funeral sermon there, I went over to-day for that purpose; but neither would this house contain the congregation. Those who could not get in made some noise at first; but in a little while all were silent. Here, likewise, I trust God has given a blow to that bigotry which had prevailed for many years.

“Wednesday, January 2, 1771. I preached, in the evening, at Deptford, a kind of funeral sermon for Mr. Whitefield. In every place, I wish to shew all possible respect to the memory of that great and good man.”

Wesley’s sermon was official; and was published, with the title, “A Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield. Preached at the Chapel in Tottenham Court Road, and at the Tabernacle near Moorfields, on Sunday, November 18, 1770. By John Wesley, M.A., late Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxon., and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess-Dowager of Buchan. 1770.” (8vo. 32 pp.)

No man was so well qualified to form a correct estimate of Whitefield’s life as Wesley was. For thirty-seven years, they had been loving, frank, confiding friends. Wesley was a singularly keen observer of human character; and, moreover, he was without envy, was incapable of using flattery, and was far too honest to say anything but what he thought. In this instance, he took a text (Numbers xxiii. 10) without expounding it. His sermon was simply a review of Whitefield’s “life, and death, and character,” with an enquiry how his sudden removal ought to be improved. The first dozen pages are filled with a condensed summary of Whitefield’s Journals down to the year 1741;—“Journals,” says Wesley, “which, for their artless and unaffected simplicity, may vie with any writings of the kind.” And then, in reference to Whitefield’s labours already sketched, Wesley adds:—

“How exact a specimen is this of his labours, both in Europe and America, for the honour of his beloved Master, during the thirty years that followed! as well as of the uninterrupted showers of blessings wherewith God was pleased to succeed his labours! Is it not much to be lamented, that anything should have prevented his continuing this account till at least near the time when he was called by his Lord to enjoy the fruit of his labour? If he has left any papers of this kind, and his friends count me worthy of the honour, it would be my glory and joy to methodize, transcribe, and prepare them for the public view.”

Wesley then gives an extract from the Boston Gazette, which he virtually adopts as expressing his own opinions:—

“In his public labours, Mr. Whitefield has for many years astonished the world with his eloquence and devotion. With what divine pathos did he persuade the impenitent sinner to embrace the practice of piety and virtue! Filled with the spirit of grace, he spoke from the heart; and, with a fervency of zeal perhaps unequalled since the days of the apostles, adorned the truths he delivered with the most graceful charms of rhetoric and oratory. From the pulpit he was unrivalled in the command of an over-crowded auditory. Nor was he less agreeable and instructive in his private conversation: happy in a remarkable ease of address, willing to communicate, studious to edify.”

Wesley next proceeds to give his own sketch of Whitefield’s character, and which, abbreviated, is as follows:—

“Mention has already been made of his unparalleled zeal, his indefatigable activity, his tender-heartedness to the afflicted, and charitableness toward the poor. But should we not likewise mention his deep gratitude to all whom God had used as instruments of good to him? of whom he did not cease to speak in the most respectful manner, even to his dying day.709 Should we not mention, that he had a heart susceptible of the most generous and the most tender friendship? I have frequently thought, that this, of all others, was the distinguishing part of his character. How few have we known of so kind a temper, of such large and flowing affections! Was it not principally by this that the hearts of others were so strangely drawn and knit to him? Can anything but love beget love? This shone in his very countenance, and continually breathed in all his words, whether in public or private. Was it not this, which, quick and penetrating as lightning, flew from heart to heart? which gave life to his sermons, his conversations, his letters? Ye are witnesses.

“He was also endued with the most nice and unblemished modesty. His office called him to converse, very frequently and largely, with women as well as men; and those of every age and condition. But his whole behaviour toward them was a practical comment on that advice of St. Paul to Timothy, ‘Intreat the elder women as mothers, the younger as sisters, with all purity.’710

“The frankness and openness of his conversation was as far removed from rudeness on the one hand, as from guile and disguise on the other. Was not this frankness at once a fruit and a proof of his courage and intrepidity? Armed with these, he feared not the faces of men, but used great plainness of speech to persons of every rank and condition, high and low, rich and poor; endeavouring only by manifestation of the truth to commend himself to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.

“His steadiness appeared in whatever he undertook for his Master’s sake. Witness one instance for all, the Orphan House in Georgia, which he began and perfected, in spite of all discouragements. Indeed, in whatever concerned himself, he was pliant and flexible. In this case, he was easy to be intreated, easy to be either convinced or persuaded. But he was immoveable in the things of God, or wherever his conscience was concerned. None could persuade, any more than affright him, to vary in the least point from that integrity, which was inseparable from his whole character, and regulated all his words and actions.

“If it be enquired, what was the foundation of this integrity, or of his sincerity, courage, patience, and every other valuable and amiable quality, it is easy to give the answer. It was not the excellence of his natural temper; not the strength of his understanding; it was not the force of education; no, nor the advice of his friends. It was no other than faith in a bleeding Lord; faith of the operation of God. It was a lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. It was the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost, which was given unto him, filling his soul with tender, disinterested love to every child of man. From this source arose that torrent of eloquence, which frequently bore down all before it; from this, that astonishing force of persuasion, which the most hardened sinners could not resist. This it was, which often made his head as waters, and his eyes as a fountain of tears. This it was, which enabled him to pour out his soul in prayer, in a manner peculiar to himself, with such fulness and ease united together, with such strength and variety both of sentiment and expression.

“I may close this head with observing, what an honour it pleased God to put upon His faithful servant, by allowing him to declare His everlasting gospel in so many various countries, to such numbers of people, and with so great an effect on so many of their precious souls. Have we read or heard of any person since the apostles, who testified the gospel of the grace of God, through so widely extended a space, through so large a part of the habitable world? Have we read or heard of any person, who called so many thousands, so many myriads of sinners to repentance? Above all, have we read or heard of any, who has been a blessed instrument in the hand of God of bringing so many sinners from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God?”

Like all Wesley’s writings, this sketch of Whitefield’s character is concise, but terse, pointed, and comprehensive. He concludes by improving Whitefield’s death. The grand lesson to be learned was to “keep close to the grand doctrines which” Whitefield “delivered; and to drink into his spirit,” a lesson which the Methodists of the present day have more need to study and to lay to heart than the Methodists of any previous generation.

The “grand doctrines” specified by Wesley were, that “There is no power (by nature) and no merit in man. All power to think, speak, or act aright, is in and from the Spirit of Christ: and all merit is in the blood of Christ. All men are dead in trespasses and sins: all are by nature children of wrath: all are guilty before God, liable to death, temporal and eternal. We become interested in what Christ has done and suffered, not by works, lest any man should boast; but by faith alone. We conclude, says the Apostle, that a man is justified by faith, without the works of the law. And to as many as thus receive Him, giveth He power to become the sons of God: even to those that believe in His name, who are born, not of the will of man, but of God. And except a man be thus born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. But all who are thus born of the Spirit, have the kingdom of God within them. That mind is in them which was in Christ Jesus, enabling them to walk as Christ also walked. His indwelling Spirit makes them both holy in heart, and holy in all manner of conversation.”

These were the doctrines of Wesley, Whitefield, and the first Methodists, par excellence, and no pulpit of the present age has a right to be designated Methodist, in which these doctrines do not occupy the same prominent position. “May they not,” says Wesley, “be summed up, as it were, in two words, The new birth, and justification by faith”?

Immediately after the publication of his sermon, Wesley was attacked by the Gospel Magazine, and charged “with asserting a gross falsehood,” in saying that “the grand fundamental doctrines which Mr. Whitefield everywhere preached,” were those just specified. In an unamiable outburst of Calvinistic zeal, the editor maintained that Whitefield’s “grand fundamental doctrines, which he everywhere preached, were the everlasting covenant between the Father and the Son, and absolute predestination flowing therefrom.”

To this Wesley quietly replied:—

“I join issue on this head. Whether the doctrines of the eternal covenant, and of absolute predestination, are the grand fundamental doctrines of Christianity or not, I affirm again, 1. That Mr. Whitefield did not everywhere preach these; 2. That he did everywhere preach the new birth, and justification by faith.

“1. He did not everywhere preach the eternal covenant, and absolute predestination. In all the times I myself heard him preach, I never heard him utter a sentence, either on one or the other. Yea, all the times he preached in West Street chapel, and in our other chapels throughout England, he did not preach these doctrines at all,—no, not in a single paragraph; which, by the bye, is a demonstration that he did not think them the fundamental doctrines of Christianity.

“2. Both in West Street chapel, and all our other chapels throughout England, he did preach the necessity of the new birth, and justification by faith, as clearly as he has done in his two volumes of printed sermons. Therefore all that I have asserted is true, and proveable by ten thousand witnesses.”711

It is scarcely necessary to add to Wesley’s delineation of his much-loved friend and fellow-worker; and yet there are other sketches, by those who were intimately acquainted with the great evangelist, which may be briefly noticed. “Funeral sermons were preached in the principal cities of America,”712 including one at Newbury Port, by the Rev. Jonathan Parsons; three at Savannah,713 by the Rev. Samuel Frink, rector, the Rev. Edward Ellington, and the Rev. John Joachim Zubley,714 Presbyterian; two at Charlestown, by the Revds. Mr. Whitaker, and Josiah Smith; at least, one at Philadelphia, by the Rev. James Sproat, D.D., the successor of Gilbert Tennent; and two at Boston, one by the Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, D.D., and the other by the Rev. Samuel Cooper,D.D.715 In England, sermons were preached by Wesley, Venn, Romaine, Madan, John Newton, Berridge, Haweis, and several other clergymen of the Church of England; also by the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D.; the Rev. John Trotter, D.D.; the Rev. John Langford; the Rev. Samuel Brewer; the Rev. Charles Skelton;716 and others among the Dissenters.717 Besides Wesley’s, the following sermons were published:—1. “To Live is Christ, to Die is Gain. A Funeral Sermon on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, who died suddenly of a fit of the Asthma, at Newbury Port, at six of the clock, Lord’s-day Morning, Sept. 30, 1770. The Sermon preached the same day (afternoon), by Jonathan Parsons, A.M., and Minister of the Presbyterian Church there. To which are added, An Account of his Interment; the Speech over his Grave, by the Rev. Mr. Jewet; and some Verses to his Memory, by the Rev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D. 1771.” (8vo. 35 pp.) 2. “Heaven, the Residence of the Saints: a Sermon, delivered at the Thursday Lecture at Boston, in America, October 11, 1770. By Ebenezer Pemberton, D.D., Pastor of a Church in Boston, 1771.” (8vo. 31 pp.) 3. “The Reproach of Christ the Christian’s Treasure: a Sermon preached at Christ Church, Savannah, in Georgia, on Sunday, November 11, 1770. By Edward Ellington, V.D.M. London, 1771.” (8vo. 31 pp.)718 4. “A Minister Dead, yet Speaking. Being the Substance of two Discourses, preached November 11, 1770. By the Rev. Mr. D. Edwards. London.” (8vo. 24 pp.) 5. “A Token of Respect to the Memory of the Rev. George Whitefield, A.M. Being the Substance of a Sermon preached on his Death, at the Right Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon’s Chapel at Bath, the 18th of November, 1770. By the Rev. Mr. Venn, London, 1770.” (8vo. 20 pp.) 6. “The Exalted State of the Faithful Ministers of Christ, after Death, described and considered. A Sermon preached on Sabbath-day Evening, December 2, 1770. By John Langford, Minister of the Gospel, and Pastor of that part of the Church of Christ, meeting in Black’s Fields, Southwark. London, 1770.” (8vo. 40 pp.) 7. “Grace and Truth, or a Summary of Gospel Doctrine, considered in a Funeral Discourse, preached on the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield, A.B. By R. Elliot, A.B. London, 1770.” (12mo. 46 pp.)

From these, and from contemporaneous publications, many extracts might be furnished. Mr. Parsons told his congregation that he had enjoyed Whitefield’s friendship for thirty years; and that it was by Whitefield’s “advice and influence” that he had settled at Newbury Port a quarter of a century ago. Mr. Parsons continued:—