Chapter L: Tyerman (2)

"The first thing I was called to give up for God was what the
world calls my fair reputation. I had no sooner received the
sacrament publicly on a weekday at St. Mary's, but I was set
up as a mark for all the polite students that knew me to shoot
at. [By this they knew that I was commenced Methodist; for
though there is a sacrament at the beginning of every term, at
which all, especially the seniors, are by statute obliged to be
present, yet so dreadfully has that once faithful city played
the harlot, that very few masters, and no undergraduates but the
Methodists, attended upon it.

"Mr. Charles Wesley, whom I must always mention with the
greatest deference and respect, walked with me, in order to
confirm me, from the church even to the college. I confess, to
my shame, I would gladly have excused him; and the next day,
going to his room, one of our Fellows passing by, I was ashamed
to be seen to knock at his door. But, blessed be God! this
fear of man gradually wore off. As I had imitated Nicodemus in
his cowardice, so, by the Divine assistance, I followed him in
his courage. I confessed the Methodists more and more publicly
every day. I walked openly with them, and chose rather to bear
contempt with those people of God, than to enjoy the applause of
almost-Christians for a season.]

"Soon after this, I incurred the displeasure of the master of
the college, who frequently chid, and once threatened to expel
me, if I ever visited the poor again. Being surprised by this
treatment,[15] I spake unadvisedly with my lips, and said, if it
displeased him, I would not. My conscience soon pricked me for
this sinful compliance. I immediately repented, and visited the
poor the first opportunity, [and told my companions, if ever I
was called to a stake for Christ's sake, I would serve my tongue
as Archbishop Cranmer served his hand, namely, make that burn
first.]

[15] "And overawed by his authority,"--Edit. 1756.

"My[16] tutor, being a worthy man, did not oppose me [much,
but thought, I believe, that I went a little too far. He lent
me books, gave me money, visited me, and furnished me with a
physician when sick. In short, he behaved in all respects like a
father; and I trust God will remember him for good, in answer to
the many prayers I have put up in his behalf.

[16] "Worthy."--_Ibid._

"My relations were quickly alarmed at the alteration of my
behaviour, conceived strong prejudices against me, and for some
time counted my life madness.] I daily underwent some contempt
at college. Some have thrown dirt at me; others by degrees took
away their pay from me; and two friends that were dear unto
me grew shy of and forsook me, [when they saw me resolved to
deny myself, take up my cross daily, and follow Jesus Christ.
But our Lord, by His Spirit, soon convinced me that I must
know no one after the flesh; and I soon found that promise
literally fulfilled, 'That no one hath left father or mother,
brethren or sisters, houses or lands, for Christ's sake and the
Gospel's, but he shall receive a hundredfold in this life, with
persecution, as well as eternal life in the world to come.'

"These, though little, were useful trials. They inured me to
contempt, lessened self-love, and taught me to die daily.] My
inward sufferings were of a more uncommon nature. [Satan seemed
to have desired me in particular to sift me as wheat. God
permitted him for wise reasons, I have seen already, namely,
that His future blessings might not prove my ruin.

"From my first awakenings to the divine life, I felt a
particular hungering and thirsting after the humility of Jesus
Christ. Night and day I prayed to be a partaker of that grace,
imagining that the habit of humility would be instantaneously
infused into my soul. But as Gideon taught the men of Succoth
with thorns, so God, if I am yet in any measure blessed with
true poverty of spirit, taught it me by the exercise of strong
temptations.

"I observed before how I used to be favoured with sensible
devotion; those] comforts were soon withdrawn, and a horrible
fearfulness and dread permitted to overwhelm my soul. [One
morning in particular, rising from my bed, I felt an unusual
impression and weight upon my breast, attended with inward
darkness. I applied to my friend, Mr. Charles Wesley. He
advised me to keep upon my watch, and referred me to a chapter
in Kempis. In a short time I perceived this load gradually
increase, till it almost weighed me down, and fully convinced me
that Satan had as real a possession of, and power given over,
my body, as he had once over Job's.] All power of meditating,
or even thinking, was taken from me. My memory quite failed
me. My whole soul was barren and dry, and I could fancy myself
to be like nothing so much as a man locked up in iron armour.
Whenever I kneeled down, I felt great[17] heavings in my body,
and have often prayed under the weight of them till the sweat
came through me. [At this time, Satan used to terrify me much,
and threatened to punish me if I discovered his wiles. It being
my duty, as servitor, in my turn to knock at the gentlemen's
rooms by ten at night, to see who were in their rooms, I thought
the devil would appear to me every stair I went up. And he so
troubled me when I lay down to rest, that for some weeks I
scarce slept above three hours at a time.]

[17] "Pressures both in soul and body."--Edit. 1756.

"God only knows how many nights I have lain upon my bed groaning
under the weight I felt, [and bidding Satan depart from me in
the name of Jesus.] Whole days and weeks have I spent in lying
prostrate on the ground,[18] [and begging for freedom from those
proud hellish thoughts that used to crowd in upon and distract
my soul. But God made Satan drive out Satan; for these thoughts
and suggestions created such a self-abhorrence within me,
that I never ceased wrestling with God till He blessed me with
a victory over them. Self-love, self-will, pride, and envy so
buffeted me in their turns, that I was resolved either to die or
conquer. I wanted to see sin as it was, but feared, at the same
time, lest the sight of it should terrify me to death.

[18] "In silent or vocal prayer; and, having nobody to show
me a better way, I thought to get peace and purity by outward
austerities."--_Ibid._

"Whilst my inward man was thus exercised, my outward man was
not unemployed. I soon found what a slave I had been to my
sensual appetite, and now resolved to get the mastery over it
by the help of Jesus Christ.] Accordingly, by degrees, I began
to leave off eating fruits and such like, and gave the money
I usually spent in that way to the poor. Afterward, I always
chose the worst sort of food, though my place furnished me with
variety. I fasted twice a week. My apparel was mean. I thought
it unbecoming a penitent to have his hair powdered. I wore
woollen gloves, a patched gown, and dirty shoes;[19] and [though
I was then convinced that the kingdom of God did not consist in
meats and drinks, yet I resolutely persisted in these voluntary
acts of self-denial, because I found them great promoters of the
spiritual life.]

[19] "Therefore looked upon myself as very humble."--Edit. 1756,

"For many months, I went on in this[20] state, [faint, yet
pursuing, and travelling along in the dark, in hope that the
star I had before once seen would hereafter appear again. During
this season I was very active;] but finding pride creeping in at
the end of almost every thought, word, and action, and meeting
with Castaniza's 'Spiritual Combat,' in which he says 'that he
that is employed in mortifying his will was as well employed
as though he was converting Indians,' or words to that effect,
Satan so imposed upon my understanding, that he persuaded me
to shut myself up in my study till I could do good[21] [with a
single eye], lest, in endeavouring to save others as I did now,
I should at last, by pride and self-complacence, lose myself.

[20] "Legal."--_Ibid._

[21] "Without feeling any mixture of corruption."--_Ibid._

["Henceforward, he transformed himself into an angel of light,
and worked so artfully, that I imagined the good, and not the
evil, spirit suggested to me everything I did.

"His main drift was to lead me into a state of quietism (he
generally ploughed with God's heifer); and when the Holy Spirit
put into my heart good thoughts or convictions, he always drove
them to extremes. For instance, having out of pride put down
in my diary what I gave away, Satan tempted me to lay my diary
quite aside. When Castaniza[22] advised to talk but little,
Satan said I must not talk at all. So that I, who used to be the
most forward in exhorting my companions, have sat whole nights
almost without speaking at all. Again, when Castaniza advised
to endeavour after a silent recollection and waiting upon God,
Satan told me I must leave off all forms, and not use my voice
in prayer at all. The time would fail me to recount all the
instances of this kind in which he had deceived me. But when
matters came to an extreme, God always showed me my error, and
by His Spirit pointed out a way for me to escape.

[22] "The Spiritual Combat; or, the Christian Pilgrim in his
Spiritual Conflict and Conquest." By John de Castaniza. Revised
and recommended by the Rev. Richard Lucas, D.D., Rector of St.
Stephen's, Coleman Street.

"The devil also sadly imposed upon me in the matter of my
college exercises. Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme,
I had no power to write a word, nor so much as to tell my
Christian friends of my inability to do it. Saturday being come,
which is the day the students give up their compositions, it was
suggested to me that I must go down into the hall, and confess I
could not make a theme, and so publicly suffer, as if it were,
for my Master's sake. When the bell rung to call us, I went to
open the door to go down stairs, but feeling something give me a
violent inward check, I entered my study, and continued instant
in prayer, waiting the event. For this my tutor fined me half a
crown. The next week Satan served me in like manner again; but
now having got more strength, and perceiving no inward check,
I went into the hall. My name being called, I stood up and
told my tutor I could not make a theme. I think he fined me a
second time; but, imagining that I would not willingly neglect
my exercise, he afterward called me into the common room, and
kindly enquired whether any misfortune had befallen me, or what
was the reason I could not make a theme. I burst into tears,
and assured him that it was not out of contempt of authority,
but that I could not act otherwise. Then, at length, he said he
believed I could not; and, when he left me, told a friend, as he
very well might, that he took me to be really mad. This friend,
hearing from my tutor what had happened, came to me, urging the
command of Scripture, to be subject to the higher powers. I
answered, 'Yes; but I had a new revelation.' Lord, what is man?

"As I daily got strength, by continued, though almost silent,
prayer in my study, my temptations grew stronger also,
particularly for two or three days before deliverance came.]

"Near five or six weeks I had now spent in my study, except
when[23] I was obliged to go out. During this time I was
fighting with my corruptions, and did little else besides
kneeling down by my bedside, feeling, as it were, a heavy
pressure upon my body, as well as an unspeakable oppression
of mind, yet offering up my soul to God to do with me as it
pleased Him. It was now suggested to me that Jesus Christ was
among the wild beasts when He was tempted, and that I ought to
follow His example; and being willing, as I thought, to imitate
Jesus Christ, after supper I went into Christ Church walk, near
our college, and continued in silent prayer under one of the
trees [for near two hours, sometimes lying flat on my face,
sometimes] kneeling upon my knees, [all the while filled with
fear and concern lest some of my brethren should be overwhelmed
with pride. The night being stormy, it gave me awful thoughts of
the day of judgment. I continued, I think,] till the great bell
rung for retirement to the college, not without finding some
reluctance in the natural man against staying so long in the
cold.

[23] "College business obliged me to go down."--Edit. 1756.

["The next night I repeated the same exercise at the same place.
But the hour of extremity being now come, God was pleased to
make an open show of those diabolical devices by which I had
been deceived.]

"By this time, I had left off keeping my diary, using my forms,
or scarce my voice in prayer, visiting prisoners, etc. Nothing
remained for me to leave, unless I forsook public worship, but
my religious friends. Now it was suggested that I must leave
them also for Christ's sake. This was a sore trial; but rather
than not be, as I fancied, Christ's disciple, I resolved to
renounce them, though as dear to me as my own soul. Accordingly,
the next day being Wednesday, whereon we kept one of our weekly
fasts, instead of meeting with my brethren as usual, I went out
into the fields, and prayed silently by myself. Our evening
meeting I neglected also, and went not to breakfast, according
to appointment, with Mr. Charles Wesley the day following. This,
with many other concurring circumstances, made my honoured
friend, Mr. Charles Wesley, suspect something more than ordinary
was the matter. He came to my room, [soon found out my case,]
apprised me of my danger if I would not take advice, and
recommended me to his brother John, Fellow of Lincoln College,
as more experienced[24] [in the spiritual life]. God gave
me--[blessed be His holy name]--a teachable temper, and I waited
upon his brother, with whom from that time I had the honour of
growing intimate. He advised me to resume all my externals,
though not to depend on them in the least. From time to time he
gave me directions as my [various and] pitiable state required;
[and, at length, by his excellent advice and management of me,
under God, I was delivered from those wiles of Satan. 'Praise
the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me praise His holy
name!']

[24] "Than himself."--Edit 1756.

["During this and all other seasons of temptation my soul was
inwardly supported with great courage and resolution from
above. Every day God made me willing to renew the combat, and
though my soul, when quite empty of God, was very prone to
seek satisfaction in the creature, and sometimes I fell into
sensuality, yet I was generally enabled to wait in silence
for the salvation of God, or to persist in prayer till some
beams of spiritual light and comfort were vouchsafed me from
on high. Thomas à Kempis, since translated and published by
Mr. John Wesley; Castaniza's Combat; and the Greek Testament,
every reading of which I endeavoured to turn into a prayer,
were of great help and furtherance to me. On receiving the
holy sacrament, especially before trials, I have found grace
in a very affecting manner, and in abundant measure, sometimes
imparted to my soul,--an irrefragable proof to me of the
miserable delusion of the author of that work called, 'The Plain
Account of the Sacrament,' which sinks that holy ordinance into
a bare memorial, who, if he obstinately refuse the instruction
of the Most High, will doubtless, without repentance, bear his
punishment, whosoever he be.]

"To proceed--I had now taken up my externals again;[25] [and
though Satan for some weeks had been biting my heel, God was
pleased to show me that I should soon bruise his head.] A few
days after, as I was walking along, I met with a poor woman
whose husband was then in [Bocardo, or] Oxford Town-Gaol,
[which I constantly visited.] Seeing her much discomposed, I
enquired the cause. She told me, not being able to bear the
crying of her children, ready to perish for hunger, and having
nothing to relieve them, she had been to drown herself, but was
mercifully prevented, and said she was coming to my room to
inform me of it. I gave her some immediate relief, and desired
her to meet me at the prison with her husband in the afternoon.
She came, and there God visited them both by His free grace.
She was powerfully quickened from above; and when I had done
reading, he also came to me like the trembling gaoler, and,
grasping my hand, cried out, 'I am upon the brink of hell!'.
From this time forward, both of them grew in grace. God, by His
providence, soon delivered him from his confinement. Though
notorious offenders against God and one another before, yet now
they became helpmeets for each other in the great work of their
salvation. They are both now living, and, I trust, will be my
joy and crown of rejoicing in the great day of our Lord Jesus.

[25] "And began to visit the poor."--Edit. 1756.

"Soon after this, [the holy season of] Lent came on, which our
friends kept very strictly, eating no flesh during the six
weeks, except on Saturdays and Sundays. I abstained frequently
on Saturdays also, and ate nothing on the other days, except
on Sunday, but sage-tea without sugar, and coarse bread. I
constantly walked out in the cold mornings till part of one of
my hands was quite black. This, with my continued abstinence
and inward conflicts, at length so emaciated my body, that,
at Passion-week, finding I could scarce creep upstairs, I was
obliged to inform my kind tutor of my condition, who immediately
sent for a physician to me.

"This caused no small triumph amongst the collegians, who began
to cry out, 'What is his fasting come to now?' [But I rejoiced
in this reproach, knowing that, though I had been imprudent, and
lost much of my flesh, yet, I had nevertheless increased in the
spirit.]

["This fit of sickness continued upon me for seven weeks,
and a glorious visitation it was.[26] The blessed Spirit was
all this time purifying my soul. All my former gross and
notorious, and even my heart sins also, were now set home upon
me, of which I wrote down some remembrance immediately, and
confessed them before God morning and evening. Though weak, I
often spent two hours in my evening retirements, and prayed
over my Greek Testament and Bishop Hall's most excellent
'Contemplations' every hour that my health would permit.]
About the end of the seven weeks,[27] [and after I had been
groaning under an unspeakable pressure both of body and mind
for above a twelvemonth, God was pleased to set me free in the
following manner. One day, perceiving an uncommon drought and
a disagreeable clamminess in my mouth, and using things to
allay my thirst, but in vain, it was suggested to me that when
Jesus Christ cried out, 'I thirst,' His sufferings were near
at an end. Upon which I cast myself down on the bed, crying
out, 'I thirst! I thirst!' Soon after this, I found and felt
in myself that I was delivered from the burden that had so
heavily oppressed me. The spirit of mourning was taken from
me, and I knew what it was truly to rejoice in God my Saviour,
and, for some time, could not avoid singing psalms wherever I
was; but my joy gradually became more settled, and, blessed be
God, has abode and increased in my soul, saving a few casual
intermissions, ever since.

[26] "But, however, notwithstanding my fit of sickness continued
six or seven weeks, I trust I shall have reason to bless God for
it, through the endless ages of eternity. For," Edit. 1756.

[27] "After having undergone innumerable buffetings of Satan,
and many months' inexpressible trials by night and day under
the spirit of bondage, God was pleased at length to remove the
heavy load, to enable me to lay hold on His dear Son by a living
faith, and, by giving me the spirit of adoption, to seal me, as
I humbly hope, even to the day of everlasting redemption. But
oh! with what joy--joy unspeakable--even joy that was full of,
and big with glory, was my soul filled, when the weight of sin
went off, and an abiding sense of the pardoning love of God,
and a full assurance of faith broke in upon my disconsolate
soul! Surely it was the day of my espousals,--a day to be had
in everlasting remembrance. At first my joys were like a spring
tide, and, as it were, overflowed the banks. Go where I would,
I could not avoid singing of psalms almost aloud; afterwards it
became more settled--and, blessed be God, saving a few casual
intervals, has abode and increased in my soul ever since. But to
proceed."--Edit. 1756.

"Thus were the days of my mourning ended. After a long night
of desertion and temptation, the star, which I had seen at
a distance before, began to appear again, and the day star
arose in my heart. Now did the Spirit of God take possession
of my soul, and, as I humbly hope, seal me unto the day of
redemption."]

Here we must pause. Whitefield evidently considered this to be the time of his conversion. The date was about seven weeks after Easter, in the year 1735. This was three years before the Wesley brothers professed to receive the same blessing. In fact, young Whitefield seems to have been the first of the Oxford Methodists who attained to the experience expressed in Romans viii. 15, 16: "Ye have not received the Spirit of bondage, again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ." It cannot be denied that Whitefield's first account of the way in which he obtained this gift of God is tinged with fanaticism. The second and revised account, published sixteen years afterwards, is unobjectionable. Oppressed with a sense of sin, and buffeted by Satan, the young servitor laid hold of Christ "by a living faith," received "the spirit of adoption," was blessed with "a sense of the pardoning love of God," and filled with "joy unspeakable" and "big with glory."

Whitefield's history of his college life, especially the first edition of it, brought upon him the scathing criticisms of both friends and foes. The recital of his diabolical buffetings is more minute than sensible, and was sure to excite the sarcastic laughter of men like Lavington. The taciturnity which came over him is neither to be desired nor commended. His religious jargon, partly bracketed and partly otherwise, is not "good to the use of edifying." The lengthy descriptions of his fastings, prayers, and devotions have a somewhat pharisaic tinge. But, notwithstanding all these animadversions, this section of Whitefield's autobiography is useful and important. Throughout, it exhibits the spirit, the principles, and the practices of the Oxford Methodists. It shows that college life at Oxford was profligately wicked, and that men like the Oxford Methodists were greatly needed. It reveals the significant and momentous fact that the work of God was not confined to the Oxford University, for, in his way, young Whitefield was intensely religious before he left his home at Gloucester. The omnipresent Spirit was preparing men for a great work in different places--not only in Oxford and Gloucester, but, as will be seen hereafter, in various parts of the United Kingdom, and even across the Atlantic.

"When I was sixteen years of age," said Whitefield, a few months
before he died, "I began to fast twice a week for thirty-six
hours together, prayed many times a day, received the sacrament
every Sabbath, fasted myself almost to death all the forty days
of Lent, during which I made it a point of duty never to go less
than three times a day to public worship, besides seven times a
day to my private prayers; yet I knew no more that I was to be
born a new creature in Christ Jesus, than if I had never been
born at all. I had a mind to be upon the stage, but then I had
a qualm of conscience. I used to ask people, 'Pray can I be a
player, and yet go to sacrament, and be a Christian?' 'O,' said
they, 'such a one, who is a player, goes to sacrament; though,
according to the law of the land, no player should receive
the sacrament unless he gives proof that he repents; that was
Archbishop Tillotson's doctrine.' 'Well then,' said I, 'if that
be the case, I will be a player;' and I thought to act my
part for the devil as well as anybody. But, blessed be God, He
stopped me in my career. I must bear testimony to my old friend,
Mr. Charles Wesley. He put a book into my hands, called 'The
Life of God in the Soul of Man,' whereby God showed me that
I must be born again or be damned. I know the place; it may
perhaps be superstitious, but, whenever I go to Oxford, I cannot
help running to the spot where Jesus Christ first revealed
Himself to me, and gave me the new birth. I learned that a man
may go to church, say his prayers, receive the sacrament, and
yet not be a Christian. How did my heart rise and shudder like a
poor man that is afraid to look into his ledger, lest he should
find himself a bankrupt. 'Shall I burn this book? Shall I throw
it down? Or shall I search it?' I did search it; and, holding
the book in my hand, thus addressed the God of heaven and earth:
'Lord, if I am not a Christian, for Jesus Christ's sake show me
what Christianity is, that I may not be damned at last.' I read
a little further, and discovered that they who know anything of
religion know it is a vital union with the Son of God--Christ
formed in the heart. O what a ray of Divine life did then break
in upon my soul! I fell a writing to all my brethren and to my
sisters. I talked to the students as they came into my room. I
laid aside all trifling conversation. I put all trifling books
away, and was determined to study to be a saint, and then to
be a scholar. From that moment God has been carrying on His
blessed work in my soul. I am now fifty-five years of age, and
shall leave you in a few days; but I tell you, my brethren, I am
more and more convinced that this is the truth of God, and that
without it you can never be saved by Jesus Christ."[28]

[28] Eighteen Sermons preached by Rev. George Whitefield. Revised by
Dr, Gifford: p. 359.

Nothing more need be said on the subject of Whitefield's conversion. The reader now has Whitefield's own testimonies at three different periods of his life. The accounts might have been clearer, more precise, and perhaps more scripturally expressed; but the fact is patent: Whitefield was converted--regenerated--born again--in the year 1735. Or, perhaps, to speak more correctly, it was in 1735, that, through a penitent, heartfelt trust in Christ, he received "the Spirit of adoption," God sending "forth the Spirit of His Son into his heart, crying, Abba, Father."

For five years, Whitefield had been a sincere and earnest penitent. Like all the other Oxford Methodists, he sought salvation, not by simple, heartfelt faith in Christ, but by self-denial, ardent piety, and the practice of good works. No wonder that he was destitute of the joy arising from a firm and full assurance of acceptance with God. The man relying on his own piety and beneficence must necessarily live a joyless, anxious, and almost miserable life; because he knows and feels that much in his past career has been absolutely wicked; and because, however sincere his present piety, and however commendable his good works, he knows that, at the best, they are exceedingly imperfect, and, so far from meriting the Divine favour, and atoning for the iniquities of other days, actually need the forgiveness of a long-suffering God. No man of this description can be happy. But it is far otherwise with the penitent, who, while diligently using all the means of grace, and to the utmost of his power endeavouring to serve both God and man, obeys Scripture teaching by firmly believing that the death of Christ was a full atonement for _his sins, even his_, and by trusting solely and exclusively in that astounding but scripturally revealed fact for acceptance with God, both in this world and in that which is to come. Let a man attain to such a faith as this, or rather let him be blessed with such a blessing (for faith is a Divine gift as well as a human act), and he cannot fail to be filled, as Whitefield was, with "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Even his love to God, also, becomes what it had never been before, inasmuch as he now, in the death of Christ, sees God's love manifested to himself as it is manifested nowhere else. Love kindles love, and the man serves his Maker, not merely because it is his duty, but because he cannot help it, love making his duty his delight. With such a belief concerning the death of Christ, and such a trust in it, his faith in God, in Providence, in the blessed Bible as a whole, is of necessity higher, holier, stronger, broader, firmer than it ever could be without such a belief and trust; and the same may also be said respecting hope, and all the other Divine gifts and Christian virtues possessed and exercised by the genuinely converted man.

It was not until the year 1735 that Whitefield attained to such a state as this; and three more years elapsed before his friends and religious preceptors, John and Charles Wesley, were brought to the same self-renunciating crisis, and were enabled by the Holy Spirit to trust simply and solely in the blood of Christ for personal, present, and endless salvation.

From this point in their history, all the three were "new creatures in Christ Jesus." This will be seen hereafter; but, before proceeding further, it may be instructive and profitable to look at them again in their transition period. Pietists more sincere and earnest never lived; and yet none of them were happy. They were ready to do and almost to suffer anything and everything that would be conducive to the Divine honour; and yet they were in doubt and darkness respecting their being blessed with the Divine favour. The reason of this perplexed them. To others it is obvious. The language of St. Paul concerning the Jews may, with perfect propriety, be applied to the Oxford Methodists: "I bear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God."

The following extracts from letters, written by Whitefield during the twelve months immediately preceding his conversion, will not only help to elucidate his character, but will also confirm what has just been said respecting the principles, and piety, and personal experience of the Oxford Methodists at this important period of their history.

On the death of a young friend, Whitefield wrote:--

"Oxon, July 18, 1734. I envy him his blessed condition. He,
unquestionably, is divinely blessed, whilst we are still left
behind to wrestle with unruly passions, and, by a continued
looking unto Jesus and running in our Christian race, to press
forward to that high prize of which he, dear youth, is now in
full fruition."

* * * * *

"Bristol, September 10, 1734. You tell me Mr. P. wants to know
my quality, state, condition, and circumstances. Alas! that any
one should enquire after such a wretch as I am. However, since
he has been so kind, pray tell him that, as for my quality, I
was a poor, mean drawer, but, by the distinguishing grace of
God, am now intended for the ministry; as for my estate, that I
am a servitor; and as to my condition and circumstances, that I
have not of my own anywhere to lay my head, but my friends, by
God's providence, minister daily to me; and, in return for such
unmerited, unspeakable blessings, I trust the same good Being
will give me grace to dedicate myself without reserve to His
service."

* * * * *

"Oxon, September 17, 1734. We must make a great progress in
religion, to be inured, by frequent prayer and meditation, to
the ecstatic contemplation of heavenly objects, before we can
arrive at true heavenly-mindedness; and perhaps, after all our
endeavours, whilst our souls are immersed in these fleshly
tabernacles, we shall make but very small advances in so
delightful and glorious an undertaking. But believe me, sir, you
cannot imagine how vastly serviceable the constant use of all
the means of religion will be in acquiring this blessed habit of
mind: such as an early rising in the morning, public and private
prayer, a due temperance in all things, and frequent meditation
on the infinite love and purity of that unparalleled pattern of
all perfection, our dear Redeemer. As for your mentioning the
degeneracy of the age as an objection against our making further
advances in any religious improvement, I cannot by any means
admit of it. The Scriptures are to be the only rules of action,
and the examples of our blessed Lord and His Apostles the grand
patterns whereby we are to form the conduct of our lives. It is
true, indeed, that instances of exalted piety are rarely to be
met with in the present age, and if we were to take an estimate
of religion from the lives of most of its professors, one would
think that Christianity was nothing but a dead letter. But then
it is not our religion, but ourselves that are to be blamed
for this. Would we live as the primitive Christians did, we
might, no doubt, have the same assistance vouchsafed us as they
had. God's grace is never restrained. And though we should not
arrive at those heights of heavenly-mindedness, for which some
of the primitive Christians were eminent, yet we should imitate
them as far as we can, and rely on the Divine goodness for
grants of such a supply of grace as He, in His good pleasure,
shall judge most convenient for us. Be pleased to send for Mr.
Law's 'Christian Perfection' for me against my coming into the
country, if printed in a small edition."

* * * * *

"Oxon, December 4, 1734. I am heartily glad that 'The Country
Parson'[29] has had so good an effect upon you. The 'Prayers' I
hope to send you next week. Only let me give you this caution,
not to depend upon any advice or book that is given you, but
solely on the grace of God attending it. The book which I have
sent to my brother, and would recommend to you and all my
Gloucester friends, will soon convince you how dangerous it is
to be a lukewarm Christian, and that there is nothing to be done
without breaking from the world, denying ourselves daily, taking
up our cross, and following Jesus Christ. These things may seem
a little terrible at first; but, believe me, mortification
itself, when once practised, is the greatest pleasure in the
world."

[29] A book entitled "The Country Parson's Advice to his
Parishioners."

* * * * *

"Oxon, February 20, 1735. I am surprised that you should
have desired that 'Collection of Prayers,'[30] and be wholly
unconcerned about them ever after. Indeed, they will be of no
service to you, unless you grant me this one postulatum: 'that
we must renounce ourselves.' What the meaning of this phrase
may be, the preface to the Prayers will best inform you. I did
not doubt of its meeting with but a cold reception, it being at
first view so very contrary to flesh and blood. For, perhaps,
you may think that this renouncing of ourselves must necessarily
lead us (as it certainly does) to acts of self-denial and
mortification; and that we probably may be saved without them.
And lest you should after all imagine that true religion
consists in anything besides an entire renewal of our nature
into the image of God, I have sent you a book entitled 'The Life
of God in the Soul of Man,' which will inform you what true
religion is, and by what means you may attain it; as, likewise,
how wretchedly most people err in their sentiments about it,
who suppose it to be nothing else but a mere model of outward
performances, without ever considering that all our corrupt
passions must be subdued, and a complex habit of virtues, such
as meekness, lowliness, faith, hope, and the love of God and of
man, be implanted in their room, before we can have the least
title to enter into the kingdom of God; our Divine Master having
expressly told us that 'unless we renounce ourselves, and take
up our cross daily, we cannot be His disciples.' I shall be glad
to hear whether you keep up morning prayers, and how often you
receive the Holy Communion, there being nothing which so much
be-dwarfs us in religion as starving our souls by keeping away
from the heavenly banquet."

[30] Probably, "A Collection of Forms of Prayer for every Day in
the Week," printed by Wesley in 1733,--his first publication,
and originally intended for his pupils in Lincoln College.

* * * * *

"Oxon, March 6, 1735. I find, by what I can gather from your
own and my brother's expressions, that my late letters have met
with but a cold reception, and that you seem desirous of hearing
no more of so seemingly ungrateful a subject as submitting our
wills to the will of God, which is all that is implied in the
phrase of _renouncing ourselves_. Alas, sir! what is there
that appears so monstrously terrible in a doctrine that is
the constant subject of our prayers, whenever we put up the
petition, 'Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven;' the
import of which seems to be this: 1. That we do everything
that God wills, and nothing but what He wills; 2. That we do
everything He wills, _only_ in the _manner_ He wills; 3. That
we do those things He wills, only _because_ He wills. This is
all I have been endeavouring to inculcate in my late letters.
Dear sir, be not dismayed. The difficulty lies only in our first
setting out. Be but vigorous at the first onset, and never
fear a conquest. The renewal of our nature is a work of great
importance. It is not to be done in a day; we have not only a
new house to build up, but an old one to pull down. The means
which are necessary to be used in order to attain this end, our
cursed adversary the devil would represent to us in the most
hideous forms imaginable; but, believe me, sir, there is really
more pleasure in these formidable duties of self-denial and
mortification, than in the highest indulgences of the greatest
epicure upon earth."

These are fair specimens of Whitefield's letters at this period of his history. He and the other Oxford Methodists were profoundly sincere and earnest; but they were legalists, trying to save themselves, instead of seeking to be saved by Christ. Their aim was to subdue their "corrupt passions," and to produce within themselves the virtues of "meekness, lowliness, faith, hope, and the love of God and man." The means used to accomplish this aim were public and private worship, "acts of self-denial and mortification," and the practice of good works. There is not a word in Whitefield's letters respecting justification by faith in the atoning sacrifice of the Divine Redeemer; and not a word respecting the great fact that it is the sole work of the Holy Spirit to subdue and destroy the "corrupt passions" of the sinner, and to plant within him "the mind which was in Christ Jesus." The men were morose ascetics rather than happy Christians.

Henceforward, the tone of Whitefield's letters is different. The _new birth_ becomes a constant topic. The man, hitherto so gloomy and taciturn, is jubilant. His doleful and long-continued _miserere_ is exchanged for songs of praise and thanksgiving. Hence the following, written immediately after his conversion:--

"Bristol, June 12, 1735. Were not your sighs on Sunday last some
infant strugglings after the _new birth_? Surely they were; and
I trust ere long the Holy Ghost will replenish your heart with
comfort and peace. Methinks I would willingly undergo the pangs,
so you might enjoy the pleasures, of the new birth; but this
must not be. All we can do is to sympathise with and pray for
each other."

* * * * *

"Bristol, September 5, 1735. I hope to feast with you at
Crypt[31] next Sunday. Amazing, that ever sinners should sit
with their Saviour! To what dignity has Christ exalted human
nature! If Mr. Pauncefort's petitions for me ran after this
manner, I should be thankful: 'That God would finish the good
which He has begun in me; that I may never seek nor be fond of
worldly preferment, but employ those talents it shall please
God to entrust me with, to His glory and the Church's good;
and likewise that the endeavours of my friends to revive true
religion in the world may meet with proper success."

[31] St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester.

Thus, as early as June 12, 1735, Whitefield began to write concerning "the pangs and the pleasures of the new birth." How was it that he was not the means of leading the Wesley brothers into the enjoyment of the same Divine blessing? A sufficient answer to this is found in the fact that Whitefield was now absent from Oxford, that four months afterwards Wesley and his brother set sail for America, and that a long space of time elapsed before the three friends were again united.

Whitefield needed rest. He had kept nine terms at Oxford, and had not availed himself of a single vacation. Perhaps for want of money, he had not left Oxford since the time he entered it. His health, however, was now so seriously affected, that recreation became imperative. Accordingly, about the end of the month of May, he, for the first time, left the University, and returned to his friends at Gloucester. One of his earliest letters, written during his rustication, was addressed to his friend Wesley, and is too full of interesting gossip to be omitted. It will also fitly close the present chapter of Whitefield's history.

"GLOUCESTER, _June 11, 1735_.

"REV. SIR,--I should have taken the freedom of writing to you
ere now, had I imagined you were returned to Oxford, or had my
affairs been in any settled way; but really, sir, I have been so
tossed up and down by variety of company and temptations, that I
scarcely have had time to do anything.

"I suppose my dear friends have acquainted you with the occasion
of my leaving Oxford in so abrupt a manner; and Mr. Hutchin's
letter has sufficiently informed you how I was received at
Gloucester.

"I have been a week at Bristol, and if any poor soul deserved
your pious prayers, surely mine did; for it is impossible to
tell you the dangers to which I was there exposed. But when we
are weak, then are we strong. The Lord was my support, and I
escaped the hands of the enemy. I had no great opportunities
offered me at Bristol of promoting God's glory, any further than
by shewing a good example. For, alas! all my relations seem to
me in a sad tepid state; but I doubt not God will, one day or
another, open their hearts to receive the word of truth.

"My poor mother seems very desirous of withdrawing from the
world, and, I trust, will soon have the means put in her
way to do it. My brother, the innkeeper, has had variety of
misfortunes, but, I fear, they have not met with their intended
effect. However, I hope, if I can get him to use prayer, he will
soon grow better. The captain of the ship[32] seems to be in too
great a hurry to attend to religion; but he has a desire for
reading Mr. Law, which I hope will be sanctified to him.

[32] Whitefield's brother James.

"But though my relations are in this condition, I find my
other friends are not. They all vastly solicit me to pay them
visits, so that, in a short time, I trust we shall have a
Religious Society. I have gotten three clergymen at Gloucester;
all I hope capable of being worked upon. I was also sent for
by the gentleman's brother where I lodge, who is minister
of Stonehouse,[33] in a very pressing manner; and I trust
our meeting will be sanctified. My dear friend, who used to
correspond with me at Oxford,[34] seems now to perceive some
pangs of the new birth. His greatest struggle is to leave the
world. I believe he will soon get over it. We have the whole
house to ourselves. I find he has done what he could, and seems
desirous of doing more. He earnestly desires your prayers. Last
night, one Mr. Escott, a clergyman, came to see me, and we spent
the evening in religious conversation, and hope ere long to have
set nights for our meetings. Be pleased to advise me what I had
best recommend for our reading. I was thinking to take Burkitt
on the New Testament.

[33] The Rev. Sampson Harris, thirty-five years vicar of the
parish, and who died in 1763.

[34] Gabriel Harris.

"The Scriptures are now my sole study; but I am in great want
of your advice, sir, how to prosecute them, intending to read
them as practicably as possible. What do you think of Patrick
on the Proverbs? I trust God has opened a door for me, to be an
instrument of propagating the Gospel at Swansea, in Wales. The
particulars you shall hear hereafter. I want sadly some more
religious books, and a set of your 'Prayers.' Be so good, sir,
as to let me have them, with a letter, next coach.

"I have not time to write to my dear brethren as I would; but
if Mr. Broughton, Mr. Salmon, etc., would send me a line, they
cannot imagine what service they might do. If one of them would
enlarge a little on the vanity of worldly pleasures, who knows
how God may work by them? I have a great deal more to say, but
must refer it to another opportunity. Give me leave, sir, only
to send my due respects to all my brethren, and, with my earnest
petition for their importunate prayers, to subscribe myself,

"Rev. Sir, your very humble servant,
"GEORGE WHITEFIELD."[35]

[35] _Methodist Magazine_, 1798, p. 440.

_WHITEFIELD ORDAINED._

MAY 1735 TO JUNE 1736.

Whitefield left Pembroke College, Oxford, at the end of May, 1735, and returned to it in the month of March, 1736. The history of this long interval shall be given in his own words, from the Autobiography first published in 1740, and revised and re-issued in 1756. He writes:

"As fast as I got strength after my sickness, my tutor, physician, and some others were still urging me to go into the country, hoping thereby to divert me, as they thought, from a too intense application to religion.[36] [I had for some time been aware of their design, and wrote letters beseeching my mother, if she valued my soul, not to lay her commands on me to come down. She was pleased to leave me to my choice; but,] finding at last it was necessary for my health, and many other providential circumstances pointing out my way, after earnest prayer for support, by the advice of my friends, I left my sweet retirement at Oxford, and went to Gloucester, the place of my nativity.

[36] As heretofore, the passages which Whitefield omitted in the
edition of 1756 are enclosed in brackets.

["Having now obtained mercy from God, and received the Spirit of adoption in my heart, my friends were surprised to see me look and behave so cheerfully, after the many reports they had heard concerning me. However, I soon found myself to be as a sheep sent forth amongst wolves in sheep's clothing; for they immediately endeavoured to dissuade me, as they had lately done a friend that began with me, from a constant use of the means of grace, especially from weekly abstinence, and receiving the blessed sacrament. But God enabled me to resist them steadfast in the faith; and, by keeping close to Him in His holy ordinances, I was made to triumph over all.

"Being unaccustomed for some time to live without spiritual companions, and finding none that would join heartily with me,--no, not one,--I watched unto prayer all the day long, beseeching God to raise me some religious associates in His own way and time.]

"'I will endeavour either to find or make a friend,' had been my resolution now for some time; and therefore,[37] after importunate prayer one day, I resolved to go to the house of one Mrs. W----, to whom I had formerly read Plays, Spectators, Pope's Homer, and such-like [trifling] books--hoping the alteration she would now find in my sentiments might, under God, influence her soul. [God was pleased to bless the visit with the desired effect.] She received the word gladly. [She wanted to be taught the way of God more perfectly,] and soon became a fool for Christ's sake. Not long after, God made me instrumental to awaken several[38] young persons, who soon formed themselves into a little Society, and had quickly the honour of being despised at Gloucester, as we had been before them at Oxford. Thus, _all_ that will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution.

[37] "Immediately upon my coming down."--Edit. 1756.

[38] "More."--_Ibid._

"My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the Holy Scriptures upon my knees, laying aside all other books, and praying over, if possible, every line and word. This proved meat indeed, and drink indeed, to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light, and power from above. [I got more true knowledge from reading the book of God in one month, than I could _ever_ have acquired from _all_ the writings of men. In one word,] I found it profitable for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, every way sufficient to make the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished unto every good word and work.

"During my absence from Oxford I spent three weeks at Bristol, whither I went to see some relations, but could not do them much good, because of the prejudices they had conceived against me. However, I daily walked with God, and, going to visit[39] an aunt then in an almshouse there, God brought in my way a young woman who was hungering and thirsting after righteousness. She received the word into an honest and good heart, and since has proved a true follower of Jesus Christ. [So gracious was the Lord, even in these my very early days, not to leave Himself without witness, in that He _thus_ vouchsafed to bless my poor endeavours in _every_ place whereto His providence now sent me.]

[39] "A relation, then in one of the almshouses."--_Ibid._