Lady Huntingdon had now become the open and avowed patroness of all the zealous clergy of the Church of England who dared to be singular in the unambiguous preaching of the Gospel, many of whom exposed themselves, particularly at this period, to much obloquy, abuse, and persecution. Her Ladyship became a shelter and the companion of all those who were so used. A difference on some doctrinal points caused a separation between Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Wesley, and their disciples soon after became divided. “They parted, indeed (says Dr. Haweis), like Paul and Barnabas; but the extent of the sphere of their usefulness was thereby enlarged.” Her Ladyship’s correspondence with Mr. Howel Harris, and several of the Welsh clergy who had been awakened under Mr. Whitefield’s ministry, was the means, under God, of leading her into more consistent views of divine truth, which she ever after maintained, and in the firm belief of which she ended her days. Her zealous heart embraced with cordiality all whom she esteemed real Christians, whatever their denomination or opinion might be; but from this period her connexions with ministers and Christians of the Calvinistic persuasion, according to the liberal sense of the Articles of the Church of England, became greatly enlarged.

Lady Huntingdon’s heart expanded towards all the children of God—she loved all those whom she had reason to believe loved her Divine Master—and considering herself as “a debtor both to the Greeks and Barbarians,” she was ready, had it been possible, to have visited the uttermost parts of the earth with the glorious truths of the Gospel of God our Saviour.

At what exact period Lady Huntingdon first became acquainted with Mr. Whitefield cannot now be ascertained with any degree of accuracy. But it must have been previous to his voyage to America in 1744. Her Ladyship had heard him preach several times in London, Bristol, and other places, and was personally acquainted with him at a very early period. In one of his letters from Boston, in the beginning of the year 1745, he speaks of her Ladyship’s kindness to him, and his joy at hearing that she continued steadfast and immovable in her profession of the faith once delivered to the saints. From Bethesda, in December, 1746, when writing to Howel Harris, he says:—

And again, in June, 1747, when writing from New York, he begs to “return his most dutiful respects to good Lady Huntingdon, the Marquis of Lothian, &c.”

After four years’ absence he returns to England, and in one of his earliest letters, after landing at Deal, he says:—

Howel Harris was at this time in London, having come thither with the Countess, whom he accompanied from Wales. Her Ladyship having now drank in the same spirit with Mr. Whitefield, requested Mr. Harris to bring him to her house at Chelsea as soon as he came on shore. He went, accompanied by Mr. Harris, and having preached twice, her Ladyship wrote to him, that several of the nobility desired to hear him. This was on the 20th of August, and the next day Mr. Whitefield sent the following letter to the Countess:—

He delayed his departure from London to preach to the nobility at Lady Huntingdon’s: to her Ladyship’s invitation the following letter refers:—

On the day appointed, Mr. Whitefield preached at Lady Huntingdon’s. The Earl of Chesterfield, and a whole circle of the nobility, attended; and having heard once, desired they might hear him again. “My hands (says he) have been full of work, and I have been among great company. A Privy Councillor of the King of Denmark and others, with one of the Prince of Wales’s favourites, dined and drank tea with me on Monday. On Tuesday I preached twice at Lady Huntingdon’s to several of the nobility. In the morning the Earl of Chesterfield was present; in the evening the Lord Bolingbroke. All behaved quite well, and were in some degree affected. Lord Chesterfield thanked me, and said, ‘Sir, I will not tell you what I shall tell others, how I approve of you,’ or words to this purpose. He conversed with me freely afterwards. Lord Bolingbroke was much moved, and desired I would come and see him the next morning. I did, and his Lordship behaved with great candour and frankness. All accepted of my sermons, and seemed surprised, but pleased. Thus the world turns round; ‘In all time of my wealth, good Lord, deliver me!’”

Mr. Whitefield never sought the patronage of the great, nor ever employed it for any personal end. To the credit of his first noble friends—the Marquis of Lothian, Earl of Leven, and Lord Roe—they sought his friendship because they admired his talents and appreciated his character. They were captivated by the preaching which won the multitude; and when they wrote to him, he answered them, just as he did any one else who sought his counsel or prayers, cautiously and faithfully. He paid them, indeed, the current compliments of his times; and if these ever amounted to flattery in appearance, they were followed by warnings which no real flatterer would have dared to whisper. In his first letters to the Marquis of Lothian, he said, “You do well, my Lord, to fear lest your convictions should wear off. Your Lordship is in a dangerous situation in the world. Come then, and lay yourself at the feet of Jesus. As for praying in your family, I entreat you, my Lord, not to neglect it. You are bound to do it. Apply to Christ for strength to overcome your present fears. They are the effects of pride, or infidelity, or both.” These are not unfair specimens of Mr. Whitefield’s correspondence with the Scotch nobles who honoured him with their confidence. Upon some of the English noblemen, who were brought to hear him by Lady Huntingdon, his influence was equally great and good.

Among his friends were, also, “honourable women not a few.” These needed “strong consolation,” in order to resist the strong temptations presented by a frivolous Court, a witty Peerage, and a learned Bench, in favour of a formal religion. Nothing but “the joy of the Lord” could have sustained them in such a sphere. Happiness in religion was the best security for their holiness. They could not be laughed out of a good hope through grace. Wit and banter may make the fear of persisting seem a weakness or a fancy; but they cannot make hope, peace, or joy seem absurd. Neither the rough jibes of Warburton, nor the polished sarcasms of Chesterfield and Bolingbroke, could touch the consciousness of peace in believing, or of enjoyment in secret prayer, in the hearts of those Peeresses who had found, at the Cross and the Mercy-seat, the happiness they had sought in vain from the world.

Few preachers possessed eloquence so well adapted to an auditory as Mr. Whitefield. His metaphors were drawn from sources easily understood by his hearers, and frequently from the circumstances of the moment. The application was generally happy, and sometimes rose to the true sublime; for he was a man of warm imagination, and by no means devoid of taste. In a company of noblemen and gentlemen, at breakfast, some years since, the conversation turned on powerful preachers, when Mr. Whitefield was naturally mentioned. The Rev. John Newton said—

As might have been expected, the spirit-stirring eloquence of Mr. Whitefield fixed the attention of the Countess, and she resolved to appoint him her Chaplain. Her Ladyship’s letter, with the offer of a scarf, and her patronage and protection, is thus acknowledged by Mr. Whitefield, on the eve of his departure from London.

Mr. Whitefield’s connexion with Lady Huntingdon, as her Chaplain, and his having preached to large numbers of the nobility at her house, now became generally spoken of in all circles, so that his popularity was considerably increased thereby. The manner in which he refers to this introduction amongst the great has been quoted against him as a proof of vanity. Why should it? “True (he says in his letters to Mr. Wesley and other private friends), the noble, the mighty, and the wise have been to hear me.” These are also the very words which Lady Huntingdon employed in her letters to Dr. Doddridge at the time. Was she vain, or flattered, because she rejoiced that a door was opened for the nobility to hear the Gospel? Besides, this new sphere did not divert him from any of his old work, nor at all change his spirit or purposes. At the very crisis of his elevation, he said to Mr. Wesley, “My attachment to America will not permit me to abide long in England. If I formed societies, I should but weave a Penelope’s web. I intend, therefore, to go about preaching the Gospel to every creature.” His preaching so frequently at St. Bartholomew’s Church gave great offence to Dr. Gibson, then Bishop of London, and involved Mr. Bateman, the reader, in some unpleasant litigations with his Lordship: for that prelate had given strict injunctions to the clergy of his diocese to exclude all whom they were pleased to brand with Methodism; which is literally preaching and zealously inculcating the Articles they have themselves subscribed.[43]

The war in Flanders being now over, the British troops returned from the Continent. In a letter to Mr. Bateman, Mr. Whitefield says:—

Some of these devout soldiers soon became known to Colonel Gumley,[44] and he presented them to Lady Huntingdon, who took a great interest in the welfare of those pious veterans. “I was truly amazed (says the Countess) with the devotional spirit of these poor men, many of whom are rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom.” Mr. Whitefield collected them together, and formed them into a small society at Edinburgh; and on his removal to Glasgow, addressed the following letter to the little band, a copy of which he sent to Lady Huntingdon:—

About this period Lavington, the inveterate enemy of Methodists and Moravians, having but lately been advanced to the bishopric of Exeter, delivered a charge to the clergy of his diocese. Some persons, from what motive it is difficult to say, circulated a manuscript copy of what his Lordship was said to have delivered at the visitation, which contained such a declaration of doctrines and Christian experience as soon exposed him to the stigma of Methodism. This pretended charge was soon after printed, and was the means of producing several pamphlets in reply and congratulation. This drew forth a “declaration” from the angry prelate, in which he charged the Methodist leaders with being the authors of the fraud. A gentleman, who appears to have had some influence with the Bishop, vindicated the character of Mr. Whitefield, and informed his Lordship that he knew nothing of the printing of his pretended charge, or of the pamphlets occasioned by it. When the former was sent to Mr. Whitefield in manuscript, as the production of the Bishop of Exeter, he immediately said it could not be his:—

The Bishop’s “declaration” obtained a wide circulation; and the bitter invectives against the Methodists were not easily forgotten by those who longed for an opportunity to load them with calumny and approach. Although well assured that neither Mr. Whitefield or the Messrs. Wesley had any hand in the publication or circulation of the spurious charge, his Lordship had not candour to acquit them of the heavy charges which he brought against them. Jealous of the reputation of her Chaplain, and feeling the aspersions cast upon all the professors of the Gospel as most cruel and unjustifiable, Lady Huntingdon determined to interpose, and wrote to his Lordship of Exeter, demanding a candid and honourable renunciation of the charges contained in his “declaration.” Her letter contained an acknowledgment, on the part of the printer, that the publication of the charge was solely his deed—that he had got the manuscript from one entirely unconnected with the Methodists—and that he was ready to verify his statement on oath when required.

The Bishop had the rudeness to suffer Lady Huntingdon’s communication to remain unnoticed, which drew forth a most spirited letter from her Ladyship, announcing her determination of making the transaction public, except his Lordship complied with her demand, and retracted the charge he had brought against her Chaplain and the Messrs. Wesley. This had the desired effect, and the Bishop sent the following recantation to Lady Huntingdon, which she caused to be inserted in the leading journals of the day:—

Such was the recantation of this wily prelate, but it was only in the language of hypocrisy. He had cast all the odium of this transaction on the Methodist leaders, but had not the honesty publicly to apologize for the error into which he had been betrayed, and the false, unjust, and injurious accusations which he had made. This implacable enemy of all Methodists had flattered himself that Lady Huntingdon would have been fully satisfied with the submissive apology which he wrote, and that it would obtain a circulation only among the Methodist body. But his Lordship’s indignation rose to its utmost height when informed that his humiliating concessions were made public by the Countess; and from that period he became the bitter and malignant reviler of her Ladyship and the Methodist leaders.

With the intention of giving Mr. Whitefield a wider field of usefulness, Lady Huntingdon now removed to London, and opened her house in Park-street for the preaching of the Gospel; supposing, as a Peeress of the realm, that she had an indisputable right to employ as her family Chaplains those ministers of the Church whom she patronized. Early in November, Mr. Whitefield returned from Scotland, and on the 10th of that month opened his ministry at her Ladyship’s residence, before a large circle of the nobility, and continued to preach there twice a week during the winter. “Good Lady Huntingdon (says he) is come to town, and I am to preach at her Ladyship’s house twice a week to the great and noble. O that some of them may be effectually called, and taste of the riches of redeeming love! About thirty have desired to come, and I suppose they will bring thirty more. I have heard of two or three more dear Christians among the great ones. I know you will pray the Lord of all lords to increase their number. Her Ladyship hath a great regard for all those in Scotland who stand up for vital religion. She intends to send you down the picture of poor Aaron, the late negro preacher.”

The Earl of Chesterfield, Lord Bolingbroke, the Earl of Bath, Lady Townshend, Lady Thanet, and many of the nobility attached to the Prince of Wales’s Court, were constant in their attendance on Mr. Whitefield’s ministry. Lord St. John was also very frequently at Lady Huntingdon’s house at this time, and was amongst the few “great ones” who had heard to profit.[45]

With the family of Lord Bolingbroke, Lady Huntingdon lived on terms of great intimacy. The impression made upon him by Mr. Whitefield’s preaching may be judged by his saying to the Countess, “You may command my pen when you will: it shall be drawn in your service. For, admitting the Bible to be true, I shall have little apprehension of maintaining the doctrines of predestination and grace, against all your revilers.” His Lordship’s sister, Lady Luxborough, the friend and correspondent of Shenstone, the poet, and his sister-in-law, Lady St. John, were amongst her most intimate friends. With them were associated Lady Monson, daughter of the first Lord Rockingham, and Anne, relict of Lewis Watson, Earl of Rockingham, all of whom were very frequent in their attendance on Mr. Whitefield’s ministry, whenever he preached at Lady Huntingdon’s. Lady Rockingham was a woman of general knowledge, of infinite wit and pleasantry, of a delightful temper, and with a mind most disinterested. She was cousin-german to Lady Huntingdon, and niece to Lady Fanny Shirley. A few years after the decease of Lord Rockingham, she became the third wife of Francis North, first Earl of Guildford, by which marriage he acquired the noble seat of Waldershare, near Dover, and a large surrounding estate of great value: her Ladyship possessed considerable influence in the higher circles, and had an extensive acquaintance with persons of genius in her day. She was often at Court, and lost no opportunity of recommending religion to the notice of the great.

Mr. Whitefield’s lectures to the “brilliant circle” at Lady Huntingdon’s were evidently as faithful as they were eloquent. The well-known Countess of Suffolk found them so. Lady Rockingham prevailed on Lady Huntingdon to admit this beauty to hear her chaplain; he, however, knew nothing of her presence: he drew his bow at a venture, but every arrow seemed aimed at her. She just managed to sit out the service in silence, and when Mr. Whitefield retired she flew into a violent passion, abused Lady Huntingdon to her face, and denounced the sermon as a deliberate attack on herself. In vain her sister-in-law, Lady Betty Germain, tried to appease the beautiful fury, or to explain her mistake—in vain old Lady Eleanor Bertie and the Duchess Dowager of Ancaster, both relatives of Lady Suffolk, commanded her silence: she maintained that she had been insulted. She was compelled, however, by her relatives who were present, to apologize to Lady Huntingdon: having done this with a bad grace, the mortified beauty left the place, to return no more.[46]

Just about this period Lord Chesterfield, who had been dismissed from the situation of Lord High Steward, with marks of strong resentment, was admitted into the Cabinet, very much against the will of the King, who had long considered him as a personal enemy. He had married the King’s sister, the natural daughter of George I., and having served his Majesty with steadiness for many years, seemed to have a right to expect particular favours, but in this he was disappointed. The secret cause of this disappointment was his behaviour towards the Queen and Lady Suffolk, which Lady Huntingdon often lamented:

The Marquis of Lothian now arrived in London to attend his Parliamentary duties, having been elected one of the sixteen Scotch peers successively returned to all the Parliaments of Great Britain since the union. He was accompanied by the Marchioness, then in a very declining state of health. She was a daughter of Sir Thomas Nicholson, Bart., of Kemnay, in the county of Aberdeen, and, from her parents, had imbibed those principles of religion which became so influential in after life.[48] Her Ladyship was one of those pious females of rank and influence who united with the Countess of Leven, Lady Balgonie, Lady Frances Gardiner, Lady Jane Nimmo, and Lady Mary Hamilton,[49] in establishing a meeting for prayer and reading the Scriptures, to be held alternately at each other’s houses, which continued to be well attended, and singularly useful for many years. It was strictly confined to a very select circle of women in high life, many of whom were ornaments to the Christian Church, and adorned the doctrine which they professed by a life of holiness, and deadness to the present evil world. Many years after, the then Countess of Northesk and Hopetown, the daughters to Lord and Lady Leven, the Countess of Buchan, Lady Maxwell, Lady Glenorchy, Wilhelmina Countess of Leven (formerly Lady Balgonie), with her excellent sisters, Lady Ruthven and Lady Banff, Lady Henrietta Hope, and Sophia, Countess of Haddington, were valuable members of this select band. These have all long since joined the general assembly and church of the redeemed from amongst men, and are now uniting in ascriptions of praise to Him who hath redeemed them to God by His blood.

Lady Huntingdon’s acquaintance with the Scottish nobility was much increased by the introduction, through the Lothian family, of several of the representative peers, most of whom were induced to attend the ministry of Mr. Whitefield at her Ladyship’s house. Amongst these, the Countess particularly notices Archibald, Duke of Argyle, cousin to the Marquis of Lothian, the Earl of Aberdeen, Earl of Lauderdale, and Earl of Hyndford, who had just then returned to England, after many years’ absence, having been appointed Envoy Extraordinary to the King of Prussia, from whose Court he proceeded, in the same character, to the Emperor of Russia; his Lordship’s mother, the Dowager Lady Hyndford, who was the intimate friend of Lady Huntingdon, the Duchess of Somerset, and the Marquis of Tweeddale, also a representative peer and Secretary of State for Scotland, were all very frequently at Lady Huntingdon’s about this period. The Marchioness was youngest daughter of John, last Earl of Granville, and sister to Lady Louisa Carteret, who married the Viscount Weymouth, cousin to the Duchess of Somerset, by whom they were introduced to Lady Huntingdon.

The following letter from Lady Huntingdon to Dr. Doddridge, written at this time, will give some idea of the success of the Gospel among the “great ones” who frequented her Ladyship’s circle:—

Whilst Lady Huntingdon thus sought to promote the spiritual interests of the rich and the noble, she was not unmindful of those of her more humble neighbours; to them her house was constantly open, that they might be enriched with that “faith which comes by hearing, and which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen”—a practice which was regularly continued for several years. On the week-days her kitchen was filled with the poor of the flock, for whom she provided suitable instruction; and on the Sabbath the rich and the noble were invited to spend the evening in her drawing-rooms, where Mr. Whitefield and other eminent ministers of Christ proclaimed all the words of this life, and with eloquence which was exceeded only by their faithfulness and affection. The following anecdote, communicated by Lady Huntingdon to the late Mr. Barry, R.A., proves that Mr. Whitefield had other trophies besides the rich and noble, who had escaped eternal death through the blood and righteousness of the Son of God. Some ladies called one Saturday morning to pay a visit to Lady Huntingdon, and during the visit her Ladyship enquired of them if they had ever heard Mr. Whitefield preach? Upon being answered in the negative, she said, “I wish you would hear him; he is to preach to-morrow evening.” They promised her Ladyship they would certainly attend—they were as good as their word; and upon calling on the Monday morning on Lady Huntingdon, she anxiously enquired if they had heard Mr. Whitefield on the previous evening, and how they liked him? The reply was, “O my Lady! of all the preachers we ever heard, he is the most strange and unaccountable. Among other preposterous things (would your Ladyship believe it?) he declared that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receive even the devil’s castaways! Now, my Lady, did you ever hear of such a thing since you were born?” To which her Ladyship made the following reply: “There is something, I acknowledge, a little singular in the invitation, and I do not recollect to have ever met with it before; but, as Mr. Whitefield is below in the parlour, we will have him up, and let him answer for himself.” Upon his entering the drawing-room, Lady Huntingdon said, “Mr. Whitefield, these ladies have been preferring a very heavy charge against you, and I thought it best that you should come up and defend yourself: they say, that in your sermon last evening, speaking of the willingness of Jesus Christ to receive sinners, you expressed yourself in the following terms: ‘So ready is Christ to receive sinners who come to Him, that he is willing to receive the devil’s castaways.’” Mr. Whitefield immediately replied, “I certainly, my Lady, must plead guilty to the charge: whether I did what was right or otherwise, your Ladyship shall judge from the following circumstance:—Did your Ladyship notice, about half an hour ago, a very modest single rap at the door? It was given by a poor, miserable-looking, aged female, who requested to speak with me. I desired her to be shown into the parlour, when she accosted me in the following manner:—‘I believe, Sir, you preached last evening at such a chapel?’ ‘Yes, I did.’ ‘Ah, Sir, I was accidently passing the door of that chapel, and hearing the voice of some one preaching, I did what I have never been in the habit of doing—I went in; and one of the first things I heard you say was, that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receiving the devil’s castaways. Now, Sir, I have been on the town for many years, and am so worn out in his service, that I think I may with truth be called one of the devil’s castaways. Do you think, Sir, that Jesus Christ would receive me?’ ‘I (said Mr. Whitefield) assured her there was not a doubt of it, if she was but willing to go to Him.’” From the sequel, it appeared that this was the case, and that it ended in the sound conversion of this poor creature; and Lady Huntingdon was assured, from most respectable authority, that the woman left a very charming testimony behind her, that, though her sins had been of a crimson hue, the atoning blood of Christ had washed them white as snow.

That would-be wit and affected woman, Lady Townshend,[50] was one of Mr. Whitefield’s earliest and most strenuous admirers; she was always running from one extreme to another, always extravagant in ideas and conduct—she changed about from one opinion to another with singular velocity.

Lady Townshend was attacked with severe illness, and her life was considered in danger; Lady Huntingdon, who was frequent in her attendance, informed Mr. Whitefield of her state, and, as she professed to be under serious impressions at times, he wisely considered that a letter at such a moment might be attended with lasting benefit:—

Some years before her death, which took place in 1788, Lady Townshend was again under serious concern for her eternal interests; several letters passed between her and Lady Huntingdon, only one of which has been rescued from oblivion; it is without date, but was written in 1775, the period of Lady Townshend’s illness: