On this voyage to America, Whitefield sailed for South Carolina by way of Lisbon. His health demanded repose; he thought that seeing Popery as it is when unrestrained by public opinion, might be of use to him in his future labors; and moreover, he had with him a number of orphans whom he wished comfortably to settle at Bethesda before he visited the northern provinces. It would be pleasant, if our limits would allow it, to furnish the letters he wrote from Lisbon during nearly four weeks, but a few sentences must suffice: "This leaves me an inhabitant of Lisbon. We have now been here almost a week, and I suppose shall stay a fortnight longer. A reputable merchant has received me into his house, and every day shows me the ecclesiastical curiosities of the country. O, my dear friend, bless the Lord of all lords, for causing your lot to be cast in such a fair ground as England, and giving you such a goodly heritage. It is impossible to be sufficiently thankful for civil and religious liberty, for simplicity of worship, and powerful preaching of the word of God. O for simplicity of manners, and a correspondent behavior. The air agrees with my poor constitution extremely well. Through divine assistance; I hope what I see will also improve my better part, and help to qualify me better for preaching the everlasting gospel."

In another letter he writes, "Never did civil and religious liberty appear to me in so amiable a light as now. What a spirit must Martin Luther and the first reformers be endued with, that dared to appear as they did for God. Lord, hasten that blessed time when others, excited by the same spirit, shall perform like wonders. Oh, happy England! Oh, happy Methodists, who are Methodists indeed! And all I account such, who, being dead to sects and parties, aim at nothing else but as holy a method of living to, and dying in the blessed Jesus."

He was heartily glad to get away from Popish processions and superstitious rites, and again to visit his "dear America."

Our evangelist arrived with his orphans at Beaufort, in South Carolina, May 27, 1754, greatly improved in health, with a heart burning with love and zeal for his Lord and Master. He says, with his usual energy, "Oh that I may at length learn to begin to live. I am ashamed of my sloth and lukewarmness, and long to be on the stretch for God." His family now consisted, "black and white," of one hundred and six members, all dependent on his personal efforts and influence. He regarded his charge as a stewardship for God, and collected accordingly, nothing doubting. It was now summer, and besides the oppressive heat, "great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains" frequently beat upon him as he journeyed from place to place. His health improved, and his spirits rose as he advanced on his journey. At Charleston, and elsewhere, his labors were received with the same degree of acceptance as formerly, and he was much encouraged by the conversion of a clergyman, a faithful successor to Mr. Smith of the city just named, and the first student sent forth from Bethesda.

He arrived at New York, by water, July 27, and divided his labors between that city and Philadelphia almost entirely for nearly two months. In the latter city, he tells us, he was seized with violent

cholera morbus

, and brought to the gates of death. To use his own words, he "had all his cables out, ready to cast anchor within the port of eternity;" but he was soon "at sea again," although only able to preach once a day for some time. "Everywhere," he says, "a divine power accompanied the word, prejudices were removed, and a more effectual door opened than ever for preaching the gospel." When he looked at "the glorious range for hunting in the American woods," he was at a loss on which hand to turn… "Affection, intense affection cries aloud, Away to New England,

dear

New England, immediately. Providence, and the circumstances of the southern provinces, point directly to Virginia."

While thus undecided, he visited his old friend Governor Belcher, then governor of New Jersey, and residing at Elizabeth town. He found the good old man ripening for heaven, willing to depart and to be with Christ. At this time the commencement of New Jersey college was held, and as a mark of their respect, the president and trustees conferred on him the honorary degree of master of arts. The meeting of the synod immediately followed, respecting which body he says, "I was much refreshed with the company of the whole synod; such a number of simple-hearted, united ministers I never saw before. I preached to them several times, and the great Master of assemblies was in the midst of us."

Influenced by what he saw and heard in New Jersey, Whitefield determined to go to New England, and to return from thence by Virginia to Georgia, and made his arrangements accordingly; it would comprise a circuit of more than two thousand miles, but he said, "The Redeemer's strength will be more than sufficient."

It has been thought that it was during this visit of Whitefield to New Jersey, and probably at the table of Governor Belcher, that he dined in company with a number of ministers, and held the often-reported conversation with "Father Tennent." After dinner, Mr. Whitefield adverted to the difficulties attending the Christian ministry; lamented that all their zeal availed but little; said that he was weary with the burden of the day; and declared his great comfort in the thought, that in a short time his work would be done, when he should depart and be with Christ. He then appealed to the ministers, if it was not their great comfort that they should soon go to rest. They generally assented, except Mr. Tennent, who sat next to Mr. Whitefield in silence, and by his countenance indicated but little pleasure in the conversation.

Seeing this, Mr. Whitefield, gently tapping him on the knee, said, "Well, brother Tennent, you are the oldest man among us; do you not rejoice to think that your time is so near at hand, when you will be called home?" Mr. Tennent bluntly answered, "I have no wish about it." Mr. Whitefield pressed him again. Mr. Tennent again answered, "No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at all; and if you knew your duty, it would be none to you. I have nothing to do with death; my business is to live as long as I can, as well as I can, until He shall think proper to call me home." Mr. Whitefield still urged for an explicit answer to his question, in case the time of death were left to his own choice. Mr. Tennent replied, "I have no choice about it; I am God's servant, and have engaged to do his business as long as he pleases to continue me therein. But now, brother, let me ask you a question. What do you think I should say, if I was to send my servant into the field to plough; and if at noon I should go to the field, and find him lounging under a tree, and complaining, 'Master, the sun is very hot, and the ploughing hard; I am weary of the work you have appointed me, and am overdone with the heat and burden of the day. Do, master, let me return home, and be discharged from this hard service?' What should I say? Why, that he was a lazy fellow, and that it was his business to do the work that I had appointed him, until I should think fit to call him home."

Accompanied by President Burr, Whitefield set out, October 1, for Boston, and arrived there on the 9th. Here he stayed a week, and saw there, morning after morning, three or four thousand people hanging in breathless silence on his lips, and weeping silent tears. Whitefield himself calls it "a lovely scene," and says he "never saw a more effectual door opened for the gospel. Sinners have been awakened, saints quickened, and enemies made at peace with me. Grace, grace! Surely my coming here was of God. Convictions

fasten, and many souls are comforted." Such were the crowds at the early sermons, that in order to reach the pulpit, he had to get in at the windows of the churches. In a letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, he wrote, "In Boston, the tide ran full as high as ever your ladyship knew it at Edinburgh, or in any part of Scotland."

While at Boston, Whitefield heard with much pleasure of the appointment of his friend Habersham as secretary to the new governor of Georgia, and wrote to him, "I wish you joy of your new honor. May the King of kings enable you to discharge your trust as becomes a good patriot, subject, and Christian. You have now a call, I think, to retire from business, and to give up your time to the public." Our evangelist travelled north as far as Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, generally preaching two or three times a day, till November 7, when he took his farewell at Boston, at four o'clock in the morning. Speaking of this journey, he says, "What have I seen? Dagon falling everywhere before the ark; enemies silenced, or made to own the finger of God; and the friends of Jesus triumphing in his glorious conquests. A hundredth part cannot be told. We had scarcely one dry meeting." When he arrived in the neighborhood of Portsmouth, the northern boundary of his journey, he was overwhelmed with humility as well as joy, by the large cavalcade which came out to meet and welcome him. He says of them, "They were too many;" and of this northern journey, "It seems to me the most important one I was ever engaged in."

Of no portion of Whitefield's life are we so ignorant as of the journey he now made from New England to the South. Journal, letters, historians, and newspapers alike fail us. Gillies tells us only that from Boston he "proceeded to Rhode Island, and went onward through Maryland and Virginia, with a prospect so pleasing, that he lamented he had not come sooner. The whole country seemed eager to hear the gospel, many coming forty or fifty miles, and a spirit of conviction and consolation appeared in every congregation. Prejudices seemed to have fled; churches were opened to him; high and low, rich and poor, now seemed to think favorably of his ministrations; and many acknowledged what God had done for their souls through his preaching, when he was there before." It scarcely appears probable that he went from Rhode Island to Maryland by water; but if he did not, he must have passed through New York, New Jersey, and Philadelphia, and we feel somewhat of surprise that no records of the journey appear to have been preserved.

Dr. Franklin relates a very characteristic anecdote of Mr. Whitefield, which probably occurred in Philadelphia or its neighborhood at a period not later than this. "The eloquent orator" was preaching in an open field, when a drummer was present, who was determined to interrupt the preacher, and rudely beat his drum in a violent manner, in order to drown his voice. Whitefield spoke very loud, but could not make so much noise as the instrument. He therefore called out to the drummer, "Friend, you and I serve the two greatest masters existing, but in different callings. You beat up for volunteers for King George, I for the Lord Jesus: in God's name, then, let us not interrupt each other; the world is wide enough for both, and we may get recruits in abundance." This speech had such an effect on the drummer, that he went away in great good-humor, and left the preacher in full possession of the field.

Virginia, alike from the success of his former labors there, and from the general characteristics of the people, must have presented a scene of intense interest to Whitefield at this time. Everywhere great preparations were made for his coming, and large congregations assembled to hear him. It is said, that on one occasion, as he was speaking on the banks of one of the rivers of this noble province, and spoke of the strength of human depravity, and the insufficiency of the means of grace to convert the sinner without the influence of the Holy Spirit: "Sinners," said he, "think not that I expect to convert a single soul of you by any thing that I can say, without the assistance of Him who is 'mighty to save.' Go and stand by that river, as it moves on its strong and deep current to the ocean, and bid it stop, and see if it will obey you. Just as soon should I expect to stop that river by a word, as by my preaching to stop that current of sin which is carrying you to perdition. Father in heaven, see! they are hurried on towards hell; save them, or they perish!" The impression which this address produced on his hearers was so strong, that they were ready to respond with trembling, "Save, Lord; we perish!"

Whitefield must have been highly gratified on reaching Charleston, in attending the ordination of the young minister there, his first student from Bethesda, of whom we have already spoken as succeeding Mr. Smith; and not less would he rejoice that one of the actors at the Charleston theatre had been "snatched as a brand from the burning."

Though we have not the exact date of his arrival at Savannah, we know that he remained there but a very short time. His health again declined, his former vomitings returned with violence, and his animal spirits failed with his strength. In February, 1755, we again find him at Charleston; and in the latter end of March, he embarked for England, arriving, after a comparatively short voyage, at Newhaven, in Sussex, May the eighth.

Two strong impressions were made on the mind of Whitefield as he now looked on his native land. The first was that of grief on account of its condition. Nothing less than war with France was daily expected, for the French threatened to invade Britain, and were constantly making encroachments on her American colonies. "At this time," he says, "next to Jesus Christ, my king and my country were upon my heart, I hope I shall always think it my duty, next to inviting sinners to the blessed Jesus, to exhort my hearers to resist the first approaches of popish tyranny and arbitrary power. O that we may be enabled to watch and pray against all the opposition of antichrist in our own hearts; for, after all, there lies the most dangerous man of sin." His second feeling was one of holy joy; for during his absence the preaching of the gospel had been abundantly successful. He writes, "Glory be to the great Head of the church! The poor despised Methodists are as lively as ever; and in several churches the gospel is now preached with power. Many in Oxford are awakened to the knowledge of the truth; and I have heard almost every week of some fresh minister or another, who seems 'determined to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified.'"

At the Tabernacle in London, as might be expected, Whitefield enjoyed what he terms "golden seasons;" but by this time not a few of the London clergy had begun to preach Christ with holy fidelity; and as this was the principal thing he desired, he says his "call to go abroad was still more clear." Indeed, so little did he now esteem London as a sphere of labor, and so much did he regard places by the amount of their destitution, that he wished at once to return to America, without ranging through England or Scotland. Hence he says, "Methinks I could set out for America to-morrow, though I have not yet entered upon my country range."

But if he loved America most, England loved herself more, and he was drawn again into Gloucestershire and Bristol. He went also, at the request of Lady Huntingdon, to dedicate the new Tabernacle at Norwich, to which we have already referred. At this last place, he says, August 30, 1755, "Notwithstanding offences have come, there has been a glorious work begun, and is now carrying on. The polite and great seem to hear with much attention; and I scarcely ever preached a week together with greater freedom." For a long period the work of God abundantly prospered in connection with this "Tabernacle." Two years after its dedication, the Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley preached some time in it, and had eight hundred communicants in fellowship, and he said of them, "Their experience, lives, and conversation are so excellent, that there is nothing like it in the whole kingdom."

On Whitefield's return to London, there were those who urgently entreated him to engage in a new controversy with the Messrs. Wesley, some of whose followers had been jealous of his success at Norwich. He declined, with his common remark, "I have no time for controversy," and reserved what he had to say till he could see them "face to face," simply writing to assure them that he had no party designs on foot.

Very soon after this, he set out for his northern circuit; and wonderfully indeed did the Lord grant him success. One thing, however, on this journey grieved him. His friends at Leeds, without his knowledge, had built a large church edifice. He saw at once, that this circumstance would create an "awful separation among the societies" formed by the Messrs. Wesley and his own friends; and lost no time in writing to those ministers, that they might endeavor to prevent a breach. Both the plan and the spirit of this undertaking so grieved him, that he exclaimed, "Oh this self-love, this self-will, is the

devil of devils

." This he wrote to Lady Huntingdon, a proof that party was not their object; and it is pleasant to add, that Whitefield's fears were groundless. Leeds, even then, contained population sufficient to fill both houses, and the whole movement "fell out rather to the furtherance of the gospel." During two months he preached twice, and some days three times, to greater numbers than ever before, inviting them to Christ, and "exhorting them to pray for King George, and the dear friends in America." He heard at this time, that the American ladies were making the soldiers' coats; and he immediately wrote to urge his own female friends in the new world to be "some of the most active in this labor of love."

Though Mr. Whitefield stood very high in the esteem of that class of ministers who embraced his views of evangelical truth, and who approved the plans he pursued for the evangelization of the world, they never considered him perfect, nor were some of them backward, when they deemed it needful, to reprove him. In a sermon he once preached in Haworth church, Yorkshire, of which his friend Grimshaw was the minister, having spoken severely of those professors of the gospel who, by their loose and evil conduct, caused the ways of truth to be evil spoken of, he intimated his hope, that it was not necessary to enlarge much on that topic to the congregation before him, who had so long enjoyed the labors of an able and faithful preacher; and he was willing to believe that their profiting appeared to all men. This latter expression roused Mr. Grimshaw's spirit, and notwithstanding his great regard for the preacher, he stood up and interrupted him, saying, with a loud voice, "O sir, for God's sake, do not speak so; I pray you, do not flatter. I fear the greater part of them are going to hell with their eyes open."

Notwithstanding the astonishing labors of Whitefield on this tour, he returned to London apparently in full flesh, and was congratulated by his friends on his improved appearance. Alas, all this, as he well knew, was disease, which indeed very soon became apparent. He was seized with inflammatory sore throat, that was followed by quinsy, assuming an almost fatal aspect. One physician prescribed silence and warmth, and the preacher "promised to be very obedient," but a few days afterwards, another recommended a perpetual blister: this proposal roused him, and he determined to try his own remedy – perpetual preaching. The remedy itself was painful, but he said, "When this grand catholicon fails, it is all over with me." At this time the sad news of the earthquake at Lisbon arrived in London; he was unable to preach on the subject, but when told of it he said, "Blessed be God, I am ready; I know that my Redeemer liveth. Oh that all in Portugal had known this! Then an earthquake would only be a

rumbling

chariot to carry the soul to God. Poor Lisbon, how soon are thy riches and superstitious pageantry swallowed up!"

In the winter of 1755-6, he was applied to to preach in the vicinity of the two great theatres, which he began to do in Long Acre chapel. Disturbances took place, and the Bishop of London interposed to stop him. In the end he erected Tottenham Court-road chapel, as already detailed in our third chapter.

Mr. Whitefield's ministry in London at this time was still successful. Thousands hung on his lips with delight, not a few of whom were won to the service of Christ. He tells us, among many similar facts, of the conversion of a Mr. Crane, who was afterwards appointed steward of the orphan-house in Georgia. This gentleman had one evening determined to visit the theatre, and set out for Drury-lane; that house being crowded, he resolved to go to Covent-garden; that also being so full that he could not obtain admittance, he changed his plan, and resolved on being entertained with one of Whitefield's sermons, and hastened to Tottenham Court-road chapel. It pleased God to impress the word on his heart, and he became an eminent Christian. So truly is the prediction verified, "I am found of them who sought me not."

During this year he published "A Short Address to Persons of all Denominations, occasioned by an Alarm of an intended Invasion." We have examined it, and not without pleasure. It is a faithful exposure of Popery and its bitter fruits.

It is a charge often preferred against the faithful ministers of Christ, by those whose consciences testify to their own guilt, that they are

personal

in their remarks, and mean to censure particular individuals. It is certain that this was often done by Mr. Whitefield, and sometimes with very happy effect. He once drew, from the conduct of his female servant, the picture of a Christian failing in his duty, which painfully distressed her, till he gave her an assurance of his entire forgiveness.

Nor was this the only time when his hearers were compelled to feel, "he means

." The celebrated comedian, Shuter, had a great personal regard for Mr. Whitefield, and not unfrequently attended his ministry. At one period of his popularity he was acting in a drama under the character of

Ramble

. During the run of the performance, he attended service at Tottenham Court chapel, and was seated in a pew exactly opposite the pulpit. Mr. Whitefield on that occasion gave full vent to his feelings, and in his own energetic manner invited sinners to the Saviour. While doing this, fixing his eye full on Shuter, he added, "And thou, poor

Ramble

, who hast long rambled from him, come also. Oh, end your rambling by coming to Jesus." Shuter was exceedingly struck, and going afterwards to Whitefield, he said, "I thought I should have fainted; how could you serve me so?"

In the early part of 1756, Whitefield was engaged in London, preaching and collecting for the poor not only at Bethesda, but also for the French Protestants. At the Tabernacle, a man came up to him in the pulpit, threatening his life, and handing him three anonymous letters denouncing sudden and certain death, unless he ceased to preach and to pursue the offenders by law. One of these letters Whitefield sent to the government, who at once offered a reward, and his majesty's pardon, to any one who would discover the writer. While this fact gratified, it also embarrassed him. He wrote to Lady Huntingdon, "My greatest distress is to act so as to avoid rashness on the one hand, and timidity on the other." For his own sake, he would not have cared about the matter; but looking at it as connected with the cause of civil and religious freedom, he wisely allowed the law to take its course at the hazard of his own life by assassination. Agreeably with the advice of the government, he carried the whole affair into the court of the King's Bench; this alarmed the offenders, and the annoyance ceased.

We next find him at Bristol, but not to rest, though the labors and anxieties of the winter and spring had nearly worn out his strength and spirits. Here he preached as usual, and then returned to London. During this journey he preached in several places in Gloucestershire, his native county, and in Bradford, Frome, Warminster, and Portsmouth, spending about three months in the tour.

In the county which gave Whitefield birth, is still to be seen a chair on which he often sat, and on which may be yet read the following lines:

"If love of souls should e'er be wanting here,

Remember me, for I am Whitefield's chair;

I bore his weight, was witness to his fears,

His earnest prayers, his interesting tears.

His holy soul was fired with love divine:

If thine be such, sit down and call me

thine

A very few weeks passed, and we find him in Kent. In a letter written July 27, after his visit to that county, he says, "The gospel flourishes in London. I am just returned from preaching at Sheerness, Chatham, and in the camp." On the next day he set off towards Scotland. On August 14, he writes from Sunderland, "How swiftly doth my precious time pass away! It is now a fortnight since I came to Leeds, in and about which I preached eight days, thrice almost every day, to thronged and affected auditories. On Sunday last at Bradford, in the morning, the auditory consisted of about ten thousand; at noon and in the evening, at Birstal, to nearly double the number. Though hoarse, I was helped to speak so that all heard. Next morning I took a sorrowful leave of Leeds, preached at Doncaster at noon, and at York the same night. On Wednesday, at Warstall, about fifty miles off; on Thursday, twice at Yarm; and last night and this morning, here." Wherever he labored, he heard of the good effects of his preaching in those places last year, and was constantly finding "many trophies of redeeming love." Such was the effect of the two sermons he preached at Birstal, that "several hundreds rode eight miles with him in the evening, singing and praising God."

In a day or two after this, we find him at Edinburgh and Glasgow, preaching, as usual, to vast crowds, and with his accustomed success. At the former places especially, even politicians gave him a cordial welcome, and thronged to hear him, while the newspapers applauded him for his spirit-stirring exposures of "Popish tyranny and arbitrary power." He preached twice every day in the Orphan-hospital park, and blended with almost every sermon rousing appeals to the Protestantism, courage, and loyalty of the Scotch. At the close of one of his sermons he pleaded the cause of the poor Highlanders, and collected at its close about three hundred dollars.

On his way back to London, Whitefield held a peculiarly solemn and refreshing meeting with his friends at Leeds; and after it, he braced his nerves by a tour of

mountain preaching

in company with his friend Grimshaw. But it was now late in October, and as he found "these cold countries bringing on his last year's disorder," and having, as he significantly says, "grown very prudent," he returned to London, and dedicated Tottenham Court-road church edifice. Another errand also had taken him to that city. The new governor of Georgia had sent for him, to consult with him before sailing to that colony. Whitefield met him, and was so much delighted with him, that he wrote off to Bethesda to prepare them for a

state

visit. He says, "Waited upon his excellency, and gave him, and all whom he pleases to bring, an invitation to Bethesda. Dear Mrs. C – will make proper provision." He went even farther, and proposed that the governor, if possible, should be received at Bethesda with military honors.

The success of his new house of worship in Totten

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George Whitefield: A Biography, with special reference to his labors in America

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