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

In the spring of 1758, he laid the foundation-stone of his almshouse, and in June of the same year began to select its inmates. Pointing to these houses, some years afterwards, he said to a gentleman who was visiting him, "Those are my redoubts. The prayers of the poor women who reside in them, protect me in my house." Having arranged for the supply of his London pulpits, Whitefield went into the west of England, and proceeded from thence into Wales. But his health was so feeble, that he could not bear to drive, nor even ride in a one-horse chaise. The roads were rough, and riding shook him nearly to pieces. "Every thing," he says, "wearies this shattered bark now." A friend purchased for him a close chaise, advancing the money until he could conveniently repay it. He deeply felt this kindness, because by no other means could he have itinerated. "I would not," he says, "lay out a single farthing but for my blessed Master; but it is inconceivable what I have undergone these three weeks. I never was so before. O for a hearse to carry my weary carcass to the wished for grave." During all this tour he was unable to sit up in company even once; yet he often preached to ten or fifteen thousand people, and made their "tears flow like water from the rock." His views of himself at this time were more than usually humble. He said to Lady Huntingdon, "Oh, I am sick – sick in body, but infinitely more so in mind, to see so much dross in my soul. Blessed be God, there is One who will sit as a refiner's fire, to purify the sons of Levi. I write out of the burning bush. Christ is there; Christ is there!"

Among the many illustrations of Scripture which Whitefield often introduced into his sermons, one is truly worthy of record. Preaching from the words, "Wherefore, glorify ye the Lord in the fires," Isa. 24:15, he says, "When I was, some years ago, at Shields, I went into a glass-house, and standing very attentively, I saw several masses of burning glass of various forms. The workman took one piece of glass, and put it into one furnace, then he put it into a second, and then into a third. I asked him, 'Why do you put that into so many fires?' He answered me, 'Oh, sir, the first was not hot enough, nor the second, and therefore we put it into the third, and that will make it transparent.' 'Oh,' thought I, 'does this man put this glass into one furnace after another, that it may be rendered perfect? Oh, my God, put me into one furnace after another, that my soul may be transparent, that I may see God as he is.'"

In the month of July, Whitefield again set out for Scotland, preaching on his way in many pulpits, including "Bishop Bunyan's," as he used to call him, at Bedford, Berridge's at Everton, and Doddridge's at Northampton. Four Episcopal clergymen lent him their pulpits. His health received, for some time, little benefit, so that he sometimes feared he must return. But he adds, "Through divine strength, I hope to go forward; and shall strive, as much as in me lies, to die in this glorious work." He preached and collected in Scotland with his accustomed energy and success, and returned to London with his health somewhat renovated. This year he lost by death some of his earliest and warmest friends, including Hervey in England, and Presidents Burr and Edwards, and Governor Belcher, in America. Such removals gave him also "a desire to depart," but his work on earth was not yet done.

Three principal facts connected with our evangelist may be said to mark the year 1759. One was, that he had the satisfaction to clear off all his debts for the orphan-house. "Bethesda's God," he writes, "lives for ever, and is faithful and all-sufficient." He longed again to visit America, but several difficulties intervened for the present.

A second event which marked the year, was another journey to Scotland. He complains in his letters, that though his congregations at Edinburgh and Glasgow were never more numerous and attentive, yet, with respect to the power of religion, it was a dead time in Scotland, in comparison with London and several other parts of England. His presence in Scotland, however, at this time was very important, especially in collecting for his orphan-house and the Highland Society for the support of children. Many Scottish soldiers were now in America, which greatly increased the interest felt in every thing relating to it.

In this year, 1759, Mr. Whitefield also for the first time visited Brighthelmstone, now called Brighton, a very fashionable watering-place, where George IV. afterwards, while regent, built a tawdry tasteless palace. The preacher's first sermon was delivered under a tree in a field behind the White Lion inn. Among his congregation on that day was a young man named Tuppen, about eighteen years of age. He had been educated by a pious mother in the strict observance of the external parts of religion, but was entirely destitute of its power. He attended not so much from curiosity, as from the intention to insult and interrupt the preacher. He tells us, "I had therefore provided myself with stones in my pocket, if opportunity offered, to pelt the preacher; but I had not heard long, before the stone was taken out of my heart of flesh; and then the other stones, with shame and weeping, were dropped one by one out upon the ground." The words, "Turn ye, turn ye," became the means of turning him from sin to God. Mr. Tuppen became an excellent Christian minister, and labored as a pastor for some years in Portsmouth. He then removed to the city of Bath, where he originated a congregation, and built a house for public worship. He was succeeded in this important sphere by the late distinguished William Jay, who labored there for about sixty-four years.

Such was the prosperity attendant on the efforts of Messrs. Whitefield, Madan, Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, at Brighton, that Lady Huntingdon felt it her duty to erect a church edifice there, and being unable to do it in any other way, sold her jewels to the amount of nearly three thousand five hundred dollars. The cause still flourishes there, and very many have been turned to righteousness.

While Whitefield's ministry at the Tabernacle was at its height of popularity, Foote, a comedian of eminent talent for mimicry, who was frequently in difficulties on account of his love of ridicule, by which indeed his life was shortened, employed his wit to bring the distinguished preacher into contempt. One of his biographers says, that "very pressing embarrassments in his affairs compelled him to bring out his comedy of 'The Minor,' in 1760, to ridicule Methodism, which, though successful, gave great offence, and was at last suppressed." Of this miserable piece of buffoonery, it may be enough to say, that Foote, and the agents employed at the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court-road chapel to collect materials from Whitefield for the accomplishment of their object, were so disgracefully ignorant of the inspired writings, as not to know that what they took for Mr. Whitefield's peculiar language was that of the word of God.

Lady Huntingdon interposed in the matter, first with the Lord Chamberlain, by whose license alone any play could then be performed in London, and then with Mr. Garrick, the latter of whom assured her that he would use his influence to exclude it, and added, that had he been aware of the offence it was adapted to give, it should never have appeared with his concurrence. The representation of this piece of mummery, as might have been expected, considerably increased Whitefield's popularity, and brought thousands of new persons to hear the gospel: thus Providence gave him the victory over his opposers.

To report the sicknesses, the labors, and the successes of Whitefield from this time to that of his sixth embarkation for America, would be little more than a repetition of the past. Suffice it to say, that in England, and in Scotland, he labored amid much ill-health, and surrounded with many dangers; but at length, having found an Episcopal clergyman, the Rev. John Berridge, a man of somewhat eccentric manners, but of great learning, of eminent piety, and of burning zeal, who was willing to labor for a time in London, Whitefield set sail in the ship Fanny, Captain Archibald Galbraith, bound from Greenock to Virginia, June 1, 1763, and arrived at Rappahannock, after a tedious, but otherwise pleasant voyage of about twelve weeks, in the last week of August.

CHAPTER XIV.
SIXTH VISIT AND LABORS IN AMERICA – RENEWED LABORS IN GREAT BRITAIN.
1763-1767

Whitefield was now for the sixth time in America. He was twelve weeks on the voyage; but though tedious, it had done him good. "I enjoyed," he says, "that quietness which I have in vain sought after for some years on shore." Owing to the violence of his asthma, he had set sail "with but little hopes of farther public usefulness;" but after being six weeks at sea, he wrote to a friend, "Who knows but our latter end may yet increase? If not in public usefulness, Lord Jesus, let it be in heart-holiness. I know who says Amen. I add, Amen and amen."

On his arrival in Virginia, Whitefield was surrounded by many Christian friends, the fruits of his former labors in that colony, but whom he had not hitherto known. It was with great difficulty, however, that he preached to them; for though his general health was better, his breathing was very bad. The months of September, October, and November, he spent in Philadelphia. He says, "Here are some young bright witnesses rising up in the church. Perhaps I have already conversed with forty new creature ministers of various denominations. Sixteen popular students, I am credibly informed, were converted in New Jersey college last year. What an open door if I had strength! Last Tuesday we had a remarkable season among the Lutherans; children and grown people were much impressed." Ill as he was, he preached twice a week, and with his usual success.

He intensely desired at this time to visit Georgia, but was absolutely prohibited by his physicians, till he had recovered his strength. In the end of November, therefore, he passed over into New Jersey, visiting the college, and Elizabethtown. He tells us that at the college he had "four sweet seasons." His spirits rose at the sight of the young soldiers who were to fight when he had fallen. It was now winter, and "cold weather and a warm heart" put him in good spirits, so that he was able to preach three times a week.

A young man, a member of the college, hearing that Whitefield was to preach in the neighborhood, and being more than a little anxious to ascertain whether he really deserved all the celebrity he enjoyed, went to hear him. The day was very rainy, and the audience was small; the preacher, accustomed to address thousands, did not feel his powers called forth as at other times. After having heard about one-third part of the sermon, the young man said to himself, "The man is not so great a wonder after all – quite commonplace and superficial – nothing but show, and not a great deal of that;" and looking round upon the audience, he saw that they appeared about as uninterested as usual, and that old father – , who sat directly in front of the pulpit, and who always went to sleep after hearing the text and plan of the sermon, was enjoying his accustomed nap. About this time, Whitefield stopped. His face went rapidly through many changes, till it looked more like a rising thunder-cloud than any thing else; and beginning very deliberately, he said, "If I had come to speak to you in my own name, you might rest your elbows upon your knees, and your heads upon your hands, and sleep; and once in a while look up and say, 'What does the babbler talk of?' But I have not come to you in my own name. No; I have come to you in the name of the Lord God of hosts, and" – here he brought down his hand and foot at once, so as to make the whole house ring – "and I must, and will be heard." Every one in the house started, and old father – among the rest. "Aye, aye," continued the preacher, looking at him, "I have waked you up, have I? I meant to do it. I am not come here to preach to stocks and stones; I have come to you in the name of the Lord God of hosts, and I must, and I will have an audience." The congregation was fully aroused, and the remaining part of the sermon produced a considerable effect.

From New Jersey, Whitefield passed on to New York, where he says, "Such a flocking of all ranks I never saw before at New York… Prejudices have most strangely subsided. The better sort flock as eagerly as the common people, and are fond of coming for private gospel conversation. Congregations continue very large, and I trust saving impressions are made upon many." Such also was his influence as a philanthropist, that though prejudices ran high against the Indians, on account of a threatened insurrection in the south, he collected about six hundred dollars for Dr. Wheelock's Indian school at Lebanon, Conn., which he soon after visited with much pleasure.

An extract of a letter from New York, dated Jan. 23, 1754, which appeared in the Boston Gazette, may show the esteem in which he was held: "The Rev. George Whitefield has spent seven weeks with us, preaching twice a week, with more general approbation than ever; and has been treated with great respect by many of the gentlemen and merchants of this place. During his stay he preached two charity sermons, the one on the occasion of the annual collection for the poor, in which double the sum was collected that ever was upon the like occasion; the other was for the benefit of Mr. Wheelock's Indian school at Lebanon, for which he collected, notwithstanding the present prejudices of many people against the Indians, the sum of one hundred and twenty pounds. In his last sermon, he took a very affectionate leave of the people of this city, who expressed great concern at his departure. May God restore this great and good man, in whom the gentleman, the Christian, and accomplished orator shine forth with such peculiar lustre, to a perfect state of health, and continue him long a blessing to the world and the church of Christ."

Leaving New York, he visited and preached, as far as his strength would allow, at Easthampton Bridge, Hampton, and Southhold, on Long Island; at Shelter Island, and at New London, Norwich, and Providence.

Whitefield arrived at Boston in the end of February, 1764, and was welcomed by multitudes with cordial affection; and again he saw "the Redeemer's stately steps in the great congregation." Boston at that time was visited with small-pox, and Whitefield therefore devoted much of his labor to the adjacent towns. Writing from Concord, he says, "How would you have been delighted to have seen Mr. Wheelock's Indians. Such a promising nursery of future missionaries, I believe, was never seen in New England before. Pray encourage it with all your might." About two months after his arrival in Boston, his illness returned, but did not long prevent him from preaching, and the people still flocked in crowds to hear him. He left Boston for the south; but messengers were sent to entreat his return, and especially urged him to renew his six o'clock morning lecture. He did return, but was now unable to preach at the early hour they desired; he appeared, however, in the pulpit for some time on three occasions in the week, and such was the number of converts discovered, that after he had left it was proposed to send him a book filled with their names, as desiring his return.

We ought to have said, that according to the Boston Gazette, about the time of the arrival of Whitefield, "at a meeting of the freeholders and other inhabitants of the town of Boston, it was unanimously voted that the thanks of the town be given to the Rev. George Whitefield, for his charitable care and pains in collecting a considerable sum of money in Great Britain for the distressed sufferers by the great fire in Boston, 1760. A respectable committee was appointed to wait on Mr. Whitefield, to inform him of the vote, and present him with a copy thereof."

Notwithstanding the earnest entreaties of his friends, he left Boston in the early part of June. On the first of that month he wrote, "Friends have even constrained me to stay here, for fear of running into the summer's heat. Hitherto I find the benefit of it. Whatever it is owing to, through mercy, I am much better in health than I was this time twelve months, and can preach thrice a week to very large auditories without hurt; and every day I hear of some brought under concern. This is all of grace."

Sorrowfully parting from his friends at Boston, Whitefield left them for New York by way of New Haven. Here he preached to the students, and had taken his leave of them; but such was the impression he had made on their minds, that they requested the president to go after him, to entreat for another "quarter of an hour's exhortation." He complied with the request, and the effect was what he called "the crown of the expedition." He continued at New York till the end of August. While there he writes, "At present my health is better than usual, and as yet I have felt no inconvenience from the summer's heat. I have preached twice lately in the fields, and we sat under the blessed Redeemer's shadow with great delight. My late excursions upon Long Island, I trust, have been blessed. It would surprise you to see above one hundred carriages at every sermon in the new world."

On his way to Philadelphia, in September, Whitefield preached at the New Jersey college commencement; for which, and for the influence he had exerted in favor of the institution, the trustees sent him a vote of thanks. His reception at the college was all he could desire. The governor and the ex-governor of the state, with many other gentlemen, attended, and every other mark of respect was shown him. At Philadelphia, he describes the effect of his labors as "great indeed," and as usual, he was compelled to exclaim, "Grace, grace!"

Leaving Pennsylvania, he went on through Virginia; here he tells us, in places as "unlikely as Rome itself," he found societies of Christians, formed and led on by a wealthy planter of that colony; they met him in a body, wishing publicly to identify themselves with him. "Surely the Londoners," he writes, "who are fed to the full, will not envy the poor souls in these parts. I almost determine to come back in the spring" from Georgia to them.

On one occasion, while he was preaching in this colony, a Mr. Allen, afterwards a member of the eminent Mr. Davies' church at Hanover, and who, with his family, "addicted himself to the ministry of the saints," fell on the ground at full length, suddenly, as if shot through the heart, and lay for the remainder of the evening as one who was dead. His descendants are now very numerous, and many of them are among the most zealous Christians in that state.

From Virginia, Whitefield proceeded to South Carolina, and, Nov. 22, wrote, "At Newbern, last Sunday, good impressions were made. I have met with what they call 'New Lights' in almost every place, and have the names of several of their preachers." Having preached at Charleston, he passed on to Bethesda, and had the happiness to find the whole colony in a prosperous condition. Here he spent the winter, and writes, "Peace and plenty reign at Bethesda. All things go on successfully. God hath given me great favor in the sight of the governor, council, and assembly. A memorial was presented for an additional grant of lands, consisting of two thousand acres. It was immediately complied with. Both houses addressed the governor on behalf of the intended college. A warm answer was given; and I am now putting every thing in repair, and getting every thing ready for that purpose. Every heart seems to leap for joy at the prospect of its future usefulness to this and the neighboring colonies. He who holdeth the stars in his right hand will direct, in due time, whether I shall directly embark for England, or take one tour more to the northward. I am in delightful winter quarters for once. His excellency dined with me yesterday, and expressed his satisfaction in the warmest terms. Who knows how many youths may be trained up for the service of the ever-loving and altogether lovely Jesus. Thus far, however, we may set up our Ebenezer. Hitherto the bush hath been burning, but is not consumed." To this statement he adds, "Mr. Wright hath done much in a little time; but he hath worked night and day, and not stirred a mile for many weeks. Thanks be to God, all outward things are settled on this side the water. The auditing the accounts, and laying the foundation for a college, hath silenced enemies and comforted friends. The finishing of this affair confirms my call to England at this time."

But the intense anxiety of multitudes to hear his preaching, prevented Whitefield from leaving America for several months longer. He had, indeed, as early as the middle of February, determined not to visit New England till his return from Europe; but arriving at Charleston, he was compelled to devote to labors there the whole month of March, and then set out for Philadelphia, preaching at many places on his way. He says, "All the way from Charleston to this place the cry is, 'For Christ's sake, stay and preach to us.' Oh for a thousand lives to spend for Jesus."

The heat of the weather made it indispensable for his health that he should go to sea, and July 5th he once more arrived in England, on his last return voyage from America. He says, "We have had but a twenty-eight days' passage. The transition has been so sudden, that I can scarcely believe that I am in England. I hope, ere long, to have a more sudden transition into a better country." When he arrived in his native land, he was ill of a nervous fever, which left him extremely weak in body, and unable to exert himself as formerly. Yet, still intent on his work, he did what he could, in expectation of soon entering into his eternal rest. "Oh, to end life well!" he writes; "methinks I have now but one river to pass over. And we know of One who can carry us over without being ankle deep."

On Whitefield's arrival in England, he found that his excellent friend the Countess of Huntingdon was erecting a large and beautiful church edifice in the fashionable city of Bath, and to that place he at once repaired. There he found several of his clerical brethren preaching in the private chapel at Bretby Hall, belonging to the Earl of Chesterfield, who had placed it for the time being at the disposal of Lady Huntingdon. On Whitefield's arrival, this place was of necessity exchanged for the Park, where the concourse of people was as vast as ever.

October 6, he preached the dedicatory sermon of Lady Huntingdon's church at Bath, to an immense crowd. To his friend Robert Keen, Esq., one of the managers of his London houses, he wrote, "Could you have come, and have been present at the opening of the chapel, you would have been much pleased. The building is extremely plain, and yet equally grand. A most beautiful original! All was conducted with great solemnity. Though a wet day, the place was very full, and assuredly the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls consecrated and made it holy ground by his presence."

He made but a short stay at Bath, and returned to London, still feeble and tottering, but still compelled to labor. He had an interview with his old friend John Wesley, who says of him, "He seemed to be an old man, being fairly worn out in his Master's service, though he has hardly seen fifty years; and yet it pleases God that I, who am now in my sixty-third year, find no disorder, no weakness, no decay, no difference from what I was at five and twenty, only that I have fewer teeth, and more gray hairs." Writing to a friend at Sheerness, in Kent, Jan. 18, 1766, Whitefield says, "I am sorry to acquaint you that it is not in my power to comply with your request, for want of more assistance. I am confined in town with the care of two important posts, when I am only fit to be put into some garrison among invalids." By some means, however, he obtained a release, for in March we find him at Bath and Bristol. Writing, March 17, he says, "The uncertainty of my motions has made me slow in writing; and a desire to be a while free from London cares, has made me indifferent about frequent hearing from thence. Last Friday evening, and twice yesterday, I preached at Bath, to very thronged and brilliant auditories."

Whitefield's interest in America was not lessened by his absence from it. He ardently loved it, and wished for the return of its peace and prosperity. He hoped, with many others, that the repeal of the Stamp Act would lead to this result; hence, we find in his Letter-book this entry: "March 16, 1766, Stamp Act repealed. Gloria Deo."

Among the remarkable men of his day was Samson Occam. He was descended, on his mother's side, from Uncas, chief of the Mohegans. He was born in 1723, of parents who led a wandering life, depending on hunting and fishing for subsistence. None cultivated their lands, all dwelt in wigwams, and Samson was one of the very first of the tribe who learned to read. About the year 1740, at the age of seventeen, he was converted by the labors of Whitefield, Gilbert Tennent, and their companions. In a year or two he had learned to read his Bible with ease, and to his great advantage. He was a pupil at the school originally founded by Dr. Wheelock, at Lebanon, Conn., for the benefit exclusively of Indians, four years, and was then a teacher for eleven years. In 1759, he was ordained by the Suffolk Presbytery, and became an eminently zealous preacher to the scattered Mohegans. In 1766, in company with the Rev. Mr. Whitaker of Norwich, he went to England to advocate the cause of Dr. Wheelock's Indian school, which school was afterwards merged in Dartmouth college, of which Mr. Wheelock was also founder and first president. Occum preached in the churches of Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon, as well as in some others of different denominations. We remember half a century ago hearing an old lady at Kidderminster, the town of Richard Baxter, describe a scene which occurred in Fawcett's church in that town. Occum had preached, and a handsome collection had been taken for his object; with tears of gratitude and joy the good man thanked them, and in tones which neither the weeping nor the mimetic talent of the old lady would allow her fully to imitate, assured them that the blessing of many ready to perish would come upon them. The place was a Bochim, and nothing could prevent the people from having the plates again carried round, that they might add to the liberal contributions they had already made.

Occum preached in Great Britain from three to four hundred sermons; and as no North American Indian had ever preached in England before, public curiosity was great, and his pecuniary success considerable. He brought to this country, with his companion, as the produce of their labors, more than forty-five thousand dollars. In 1772 he published an interesting sermon which he preached to an Indian at his execution. An excellent portrait of him was published in England.

Dr. Timothy Dwight writes, "I heard Mr. Occum twice. His discourses, though not proofs of superior talents, were decent; and his utterance in some degree eloquent. His character at one time labored under some imputations; yet there is good reason to believe that most, if not all of them were unfounded; and there is satisfactory evidence that he was a man of piety." An account of the Montauk Indians, written by Occum, is preserved in the "Historical Collections." He died at New Stockbridge, N. Y., July, 1792. It has been said that the first Sunday-school in these United States was founded in the house of his sister, a few months after his death.

Occum was somewhat of a wit, and could well apply his talent in his conflict with the enemies of divine truth. He once ended a long controversial conversation with a Universalist, by saying, "Well, well, remember, if you are correct, I am safe; if you are not correct, I am safe. I have two strings to my bow; you have but one."

In June, 1766, we again find Whitefield in the neighborhood of Bristol, whence he writes, "As my feverish heat continues, and the weather is too wet to travel, I have complied with the advice of friends, and have commenced a Hot-wells water drinker twice a day. However, twice this week, at six o'clock in the morning, I have been enabled to call thirsty souls to come and 'drink of the water of life freely.' Tomorrow evening, God willing, the call is to be repeated, and again on Sunday." On his return to London, he writes, under date of September 25, "Many in this metropolis seem to be on the wing for God; the shout of a king is yet heard in the Methodist camp. Had I wings, I would gladly fly from pole to pole; but they are clipped by thirty years' feeble labors. Twice or thrice a week I am permitted to ascend my gospel throne. The love of Christ, I am persuaded, will constrain you to pray that the last glimmering of an expiring taper may be blessed to the guiding of many, wandering souls to the Lamb of God."

The good providence of God now gave Whitefield a colleague in the ministry at the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court-road chapel, the Rev. Torial Joss. This gentleman had spent many years as captain at sea; converted by divine grace, and filled with holy zeal, he devoted his popular talents to the welfare of his fellow-men, preaching both on sea and land. In a remarkable manner, Mr. Whitefield became acquainted with him, and, without his knowledge, published that he would preach in his houses of worship, which, though with extreme reluctance, Joss did. These services were often renewed, and Whitefield gave him no rest till he abandoned the sea, and devoted himself to the ministry. Everywhere he was popular, and everywhere useful. He continued minister of the two places in London – spending four or five months in each year travelling and preaching – for twenty-seven years after the death of his friend, and then departed from earth, in 1797, in holy triumph, in the 66th year of his age.