Chapter L: Tyerman (3)

"According to His abundant mercy, He also raised me up some temporal supplies. [For some considerable time, I had followed the example of Professor Frank, and, whenever I wanted any worldly assistance, pleaded the Scripture promises for the things of this life, as well as that which is to come, in the name of Jesus Christ. This is still my practice, and I never yet failed of success. When I came from Oxford, on account of my sickness and other extraordinary and unavoidable expenses, I owed, I think, about £12 or £13; and when I went to Bristol, I was so poor that I was obliged to borrow money of my kind hostess, Mrs. H----, with whom I lodged at Gloucester,--and whose husband and family I pray God eternally to bless,--to bear my charges on the road. This, I bless God, did not dishearten me; but I continued pleading the promises in the name of Christ; and, soon after my coming to Bristol, I received an answer. For, a brother of mine coming from sea, God inclined him to give me four guineas and some other necessaries. And when I returned to Gloucester, as I did after I had continued a short time at Bristol,] those I expected should assist me did not; but persons I never spoke to, and who, I thought, were my enemies, were raised up to supply my wants, and [40] fulfil that promise which I always pleaded, 'Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.'

[40] "Thereby helped to."--Edit. 1756.

["Oh, what sweet communion had I daily vouchsafed with God in prayer after my coming again to Gloucester! How often have I been carried out beyond myself when sweetly meditating in the fields! How assuredly have I felt that Christ dwelt in me, and I in Him! and how did I daily walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace! Not that I was always upon the mount; sometimes a cloud would overshadow me; but the Sun of righteousness quickly arose and dispelled it, and I knew it was Jesus Christ that revealed Himself to my soul.

"I always observed, as my inward strength increased, so my outward sphere of action increased proportionably.] In a short time, therefore, I began to read to some poor people twice or thrice a week. [I likewise visited two other little Societies besides my own; and almost every day, both then and since, have found the benefit of being tempted myself, because that alone taught me how to give proper advice to those that came to me when tempted.

"Occasionally, as business and opportunity permitted, I generally visited one or two sick persons every day; and though silver and gold I had little of my own, yet, in imitation of my Lord's disciples, who entreated in the behalf of the fainting multitude, I used to pray unto Him, and He, from time to time, inclined several that were rich in this world to give me money, so that I generally had a little stock for the poor always in my hand.] One of the poor whom I visited in this manner was called effectually by God as at the eleventh hour. She was a woman above threescore years old, and, I really believe, died in the true faith of Jesus Christ.

["About this time God was pleased to enlighten my soul, and bring me into the knowledge of His free grace, and the necessity of being justified in His sight by faith _only_.[41] This was more extraordinary, because my friends at Oxford had rather inclined to the mystic divinity; and one of them, a dear servant of the Lord, lately confessed he did not like me so well at Oxford as the rest of his brethren, because I held justification by faith _only_. And yet, he observed, I had most success. But, blessed be God! most of us have now been taught this doctrine of Christ, and, I hope, shall be willing to die in the defence of it. It is the good old doctrine of the Church of England. It is what the holy martyrs in Queen Mary's time sealed with their blood, and which I pray God, if need be, that I and my brethren may seal with ours.

[41] What is meant by this? According to Whitefield's own statement,
he had, some time before, at Oxford, been regenerated by the grace
of the Holy Ghost,--a blessing which is always connected with
justification, or the forgiveness of sins. Both are received at the
same moment, and both by the simple exercise of faith, or trust in
Christ. The only interpretation to be given to what Whitefield here
relates is, that he now, at Gloucester, was made _more thoroughly
to understand_ the great Scripture doctrine of justification by
faith only. The books from which he obtained this added light are
immediately specified.

"Burkitt's and Henry's Expositions were of admirable use to lead me into this and all other gospel truths. For many months have I been almost always upon my knees, to study and pray over these books. The Holy Spirit, from time to time, has led me into a knowledge of Divine things, and I have been directed, by watching and reading the Scripture in this manner, even in the minutest of circumstances, as plainly as the Jews were, when consulting the Urim and Thummim at the high priest's breast.

"Allein's 'Alarm,' Baxter's 'Call to the Unconverted,' and Janeway's 'Life,' which I read at leisure hours, much benefited me. I bless God, the partition wall of bigotry and sect-religion was soon broken down in my heart; for, as soon as the love of God was shed abroad in my soul, I loved all, of whatever denomination, that loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity of heart.

"During my stay here,] God enabled me to give a public testimony of my repentance as to seeing and acting plays. For, hearing the strollers were coming to town, and knowing what an egregious offender I had been,[42] [I wrestled with God in prayer to put me in a way to manifest my abhorrence of my former sin and folly. In answer to this, I was stirred up to extract][43] Mr. Law's excellent treatise, entitled 'The Absolute Unlawfulness of the Stage Entertainments.' [God gave me favour in the printer's sight; and, at my request, he put a little of it in the _News_][44] for six weeks successively, and God was pleased to give it His blessing.

[42] "That way."--Edit. 1756.

[43] "I extracted."--_Ibid._

[44] "This was put into the _Gloucester Journal_."--Ibid.

["Having been absent for about six months from the University, I thought it time to think of returning thither; but, before I came to a resolution, was convinced of the contrary.

"At my first coming to Gloucester, being used to visit the prisoners at Oxford, I prayed most earnestly that God would open a door for me to visit the prisoners here also. Quickly after, I dreamed that one of the prisoners came to be instructed by me; and it was impressed much upon my heart. In the morning I went to the door of the county gaol. I knocked, but nobody came to open it. I thought the hour was not yet come. I waited still upon God in prayer, and in some months after came a letter from a friend at Oxford, desiring me to go to one Pebworth, who was broken out of Oxford gaol, and was retaken at Gloucester.[45] As soon as I read this letter, it appeared to me that my prayer was now answered. Immediately I went to the prison, assuredly gathering that the Lord called me thither. I met with the person, and, finding him and some others willing to hear the word of God, and having gained leave of the keeper and two ordinaries, I constantly read to and prayed with them every day I was in town. I also begged money for them, whereby I was enabled to release some of them, and cause provisions to be distributed weekly amongst them, as also to put such books into their hands as I judged most proper. I cannot say any one of the prisoners was effectually wrought upon; however, much evil was prevented, many were convinced, and my own soul was much edified and strengthened in the love of God and man.

[45] This escaped prisoner is referred to in the following
letter, written at the time to Wesley, in Georgia:--

"REV. SIR,--At length, I have an opportunity of writing to my
spiritual father in Christ. I must first acquaint you that I am
not yet returned to Oxford. God hath opened to me a door into
our Castle. The manner of it was a little surprising. A youth
broke out of Oxford prison, under strong convictions of sin,
and was apprehended here again. Mr. Broughton heard of it, and
bid me visit him. I went, and so have continued reading to the
prisoners ever since.

"God has been pleased, in some measure, to succeed my labours
here; and I hope, in time, we shall have a set of _altogether
Christians_. The Holy Spirit seems to be moving on the hearts of
some young ladies. One I observed quickened in an instant, who
immediately set out for Carmarthen, and, I believe, continues
steadfast amidst a world of temptations. Here are others, also,
that seem to have some pangs of the new birth. A young country
lad came to me the other day, and brought me a peck of apples,
seven miles, on his back, as a token of gratitude for benefits
received, under God, by my hands. He has such a sense of the
Divine Presence, that he walks, for the most part, with his hat
off.

"The devil, I find, has a particular spite against weekly
communion; yet I am in hopes we shall have the sacrament
administered every Sunday at the cathedral. It would have been
mentioned to the bishop before now, but Oxford friends advised
to defer it till next summer.

"But now I have mentioned the bishop: alas! how should I tremble
to tell you how I have been continually disturbed with thoughts
that I, a worm, taken from a common public-house, should, ere
I die, be one myself! If you remember, sir, in my greatest
affliction last Lent, it was told me I should be a bishop, and
therefore must be poor in spirit. That thought came home upon
me with so much force, and so many circumstances have since
occurred to favour the temptation, that I knew not what to do.
I communicated it to Mr. Broughton, and, thanks be to God, it
is somewhat abated. O heavenly Father! for Thy dear Son's sake,
keep me from climbing. Let me hate preferment! For Thy infinite
mercies' sake, let me love a low, contemptible life; and never
think to compound matters between the happiness of this world
and the next!

"My friends here are for drawing me into orders; but I trust God
will still provide for me without it. I know I am not qualified,
and, therefore, by the help of the Lord Jesus, I will not comply.

"I hope all our friends continue steadfast and zealous at
Oxford. I have been with Madam Grenville" (query, Mary
Granville, afterwards the celebrated Mrs. Delany), "who seems to
be a Christian indeed. My love, rev. sir, to the young merchant,
whose example I hope we shall all be enabled to follow, if God
requires our assistance in Georgia. Mr. Charles and Mr. Ingham,
I hope, will accept the same from my unworthy hands.

"Your very humble servant and son in Christ Jesus,
"GEORGE WHITEFIELD."*

* _Methodist Magazine_, 1798, p. 359.

"Thus employed, I continued in my own city three months longer--despised indeed by man, but highly blessed by the grace of God. My understanding was enlightened, my will broken, and my affections more and more enlivened with a zeal for Christ. Many such, I believe, were added to our little Society as shall be saved. Fresh supplies came from unexpected hands to defray my expenses at the University; and, at the end of nine months, I returned thither, to the natural joy and comfort of my friends, till I was called into holy orders--the particular circumstances of which I shall relate in the following section.

"From the time I first entered the University, especially from the time I knew what was true and undefiled Christianity, I entertained high thoughts of the importance of the ministerial office, and was not solicitous what place should be prepared for me, but how I should be prepared for a place.][46] That saying of the apostle, 'Not a novice, lest being puffed up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil;' and that first question of our excellent ordination office, 'Do you trust that you are _inwardly_ moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' used even to make me tremble whenever I thought of entering into the ministry. [The shyness that Moses and some other prophets expressed, when God sent them out in a public capacity, I thought, was sufficient to teach me not to run till I was called. He who knoweth the hearts of men is witness that I never prayed more earnestly against anything than I did against entering into the service of the Church _so soon_. Oftentimes I have been in an agony of prayer, when under convictions of my insufficiency for so great a work.] With strong crying and tears, I have often said, 'Lord, I am a youth of uncircumcised lips! Lord, send me not into Thy vineyard yet!' [And sometimes I had reason to think God was angry with me for resisting His will. However, I was resolved to pray _thus_, as long as I could. If God did not grant my request by keeping me out of it, I knew His grace would be sufficient to support and strengthen me whenever He sent me into the ministry.]

[46] "Being now about twenty-one years of age, some began to enquire
when I was to take orders; but--" Edit. 1756.

"To my prayers I added my endeavours, and wrote letters to my friends at Oxford, beseeching them to pray to God to disappoint the designs of my country friends, who were for my taking orders as soon as possible. Their answer was, 'Pray we the Lord of the harvest to send thee and many more labourers into His harvest.' [Another old and worthy minister of Christ,[47] when I wrote to him about the meaning of the word 'novice,' answered, it meant a novice in grace, not in years; and he was pleased to add, if St. Paul were then at Gloucester, he believed St. Paul would ordain me.] All this did not satisfy me. I still continued instant in prayer against going into holy orders, and was not thoroughly convinced it was the Divine will, till God, by His providence, brought me acquainted with the present Bishop of Gloucester.[48]

[47] This was probably the Rev. Thomas Cole, born in Gloucester,
in the year 1679, and educated for the ministry in the Independent
Academy at Abergavenny. In 1718, he became the pastor of an
Independent Church in his native city. When Whitefield was a
pupil in St. Mary de Crypt School, he used frequently to attend
Mr. Cole's ministry; and often diverted his schoolfellows by a
ridiculous relation of some of the good man's pious anecdotes. On a
schoolfellow admonishing him, and saying, "George, one day you may
be a preacher yourself," the youngster replied, "If I am, I will not
tell stories as old Cole does." A few years after this, Whitefield
preached in Cole's pulpit, and used several anecdotes to illustrate
the subject of his discourse. When the service was concluded, Mr.
Cole, good-humouredly, laid his hand on Whitefield's shoulder, and
said, "I find Whitefield can tell stories as well as old Cole."
Stimulated by Whitefield's example, Mr. Cole became a sort of
local itinerant, and, in the villages round about Gloucester, and
frequently out of doors, preached three or four times every week. He
was seized by death, whilst preaching at Nymphsfield, on August 4,
1742, and entered into the joy of his Lord in the sixty-fourth year
of his age.--_Theological Magazine_, 1803, p. 461.

[48] "Dr. Benson, the late worthy Bishop of Gloucester."--Edit. 1756.

["Before I conversed with his lordship, God was pleased to give me previous notice of it. Long ere I had the least prospect of being called before the bishop, I dreamed, one night, I was talking with him in his palace, and that he gave me some gold, which seemed to sound again in my hand. Afterwards, this dream would often come into my mind; and whenever I saw the bishop at church, a strong persuasion would arise in my mind that I should very shortly go to him. I always checked it, and prayed to God to preserve me from ever desiring that honour which cometh of man. One afternoon it happened that the bishop took a solitary walk, as I was told afterwards, to Lady Selwyn's, near Gloucester, who, not long before, had made me a present of a piece of gold. She, I found, recommended me to the bishop]; and, a few days after,[49] as I was coming from the cathedral prayers [thinking of no such thing], one of the vergers called after me, and said the bishop desired to speak with me. I [forgetful at that time of my dream] immediately turned back,[50] considering within myself what I had done to deserve his lordship's displeasure. [51]When I came to the top of the palace stairs, the bishop took me by the hand, told me he was glad to see me, and bid me wait a little till he had put off his habit, and he would return to me again. [This gave me an opportunity of praying to God for His assistance, and adoring Him for His providence over me.]

[49] "One afternoon as I was coming from the cathedral prayers, one
of the vergers was sent to inform me that his lordship desired to
speak with me."--Edit. 1756.

[50] "And imagining it was to chide me, I began to consider."--Edit.
1756.

[51] "But to my great surprise."--Edit. 1756.

"At his coming [again] into the room, the bishop told me he had heard of my character, liked my behaviour at church, and, enquiring my age, said, 'Notwithstanding I have declared I would not ordain any one under three and twenty, yet I shall think it my duty to ordain you whenever you come for holy orders.' [He then made me a present of five guineas to buy me a book, which, sounding again in my hand, put me in mind of my dream; whereupon my heart was filled with a sense of God's love.]

"Before I came home, this news[52] had reached my friends; who, being fond of my having such a great man's favour, were very solicitous to know the event of my visit. Many things I hid from them; but, when they pressed me hard, I was obliged to tell them how the bishop, of his own accord, had offered to give me holy orders whenever I would; on which they, knowing how I had depended on the declaration his lordship had made some time ago, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, said,--and I began to think myself,--'That if I held out any longer I should fight against God.' At length, I came to a resolution, by God's leave, to offer myself for holy orders the next Ember days.

[52] "Of the bishop's sending for me."--Edit. 1756.

"The only thing now in dispute was into what part of my Lord's vineyard I should be sent to labour first. God had given me much success in Gloucester; and, my friends being desirous of having me near them, I had thoughts of settling among them. But, when I came to Oxford, my friends there urged several reasons for my continuing at the University. 'The Mr. Wesleys had not long gone abroad, and now no one was left to take care of the prison affairs,' etc. They further urged, 'That God had blessed my endeavours _there_, as well as at Gloucester; that the University was the fountain-head; that every gownsman's name was legion; and that if I should be made instrumental of converting one of _them_, it would be as much as converting a whole parish.' At the same time, unknown to me, some of them sent to that great and good man, the late Sir John Philips, who was a great encourager of the Oxford Methodists;[53] and, though he had never seen, but only heard of me, yet he sent word he would allow me £30 a year, if I would continue at the University. Upon this, finding the care of the prisoners would be no more than, under God, I could undertake with pleasure, and knowing the University was the best place to prosecute my studies, I resolved, God willing, to wait at Oxford a blessing on the firstfruits of my ministerial labours.

[53] This was in the month of March, 1736, immediately after
Whitefield's return to Oxford (Whitefield's Works, vol. i., p. 13).
Charles Wesley, on his return from Georgia, writes:--1736, December
6. I waited upon good old Sir John Philips, who received me as one
alive from the dead. Here I heard a most blessed account of our
friends at Oxford; their increase both in zeal and number" (C.
Wesley's Journal, vol. i., p. 56). Sir Thomas Philips was one of
the first members of the Society in Fetter Lane ("Life and Times of
Countess of Huntingdon," vol. i., p. 77). He died a few weeks after
Charles Wesley saw him. Hence, the following from the _Gentleman's
Magazine_ for 1737, p. 60:--Died, January 5, 1737, Sir John Philips,
Bart., of Picton Castle, Pembrokeshire; uncle to Sir Robert
Walpole's lady. He served in several Parliaments for Pembroke and
Haverfordwest'; was one of the commissioners for building the fifty
new churches; and one of the Society for the Reformation of Manners."

"In the meanwhile, having before made some observations upon the thirty-nine Articles, and proved them by Scripture,[54] I strictly examined myself by the qualifications required for a minister in St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and also by every question that I knew was to be publicly put to me at the time of my ordination. This latter I drew out in writing at large, and sealed my approbation of it every Sunday at the blessed sacrament. At length, Trinity Sunday being near at hand, and having my testimonials from the college, I went, a fortnight beforehand, to Gloucester, intending to compose some sermons, and to give myself more particularly to prayer.

[54] "At least to my own satisfaction."--Edit. 1757.

["But God's thoughts are not as our thoughts. When I came to Gloucester, notwithstanding I strove and prayed for several days, and had matter enough in my heart, yet I was so restrained that I could not compose anything at all. I mentioned my case to one clergyman. He said, 'I was an enthusiast.' I wrote to another who was experienced in the divine life. He gave me some reasons why God might deal with me in that manner, and withal promised me his prayers. I joined with him in importunate supplication to know whether this restraint was from God or not. At last, in reading Mr. Henry upon the Acts of the Apostles, this passage was much pressed upon my heart, 'We assayed to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit suffered us not.' Looking a little farther, I found a quotation out of Ezekiel, wherein God said to that young prophet, just after He had given him a divine and public commission, 'Thou shalt be dumb; but when I speak unto thee, then thou shalt speak.' This made me quite easy. The remainder of the fortnight I spent in reading the several missions of the prophets and apostles, and wrestled with God to give me grace to follow their good examples.]

"About three days before the time appointed for ordination, the bishop came to town. The next evening, I sent his lordship an abstract of my private examination upon these two questions: 'Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' And, 'Are you called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the laws of this realm?' The next morning, I waited on the bishop. He received me with much love, telling me 'he was glad I was come; that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made, and with the allowance given me by Sir John Philips. I had myself,' said he, 'made provision for you of two little parishes; but since you choose to be at Oxford, I am very well pleased. [I doubt not but you will do much good.'] Upon this, I took my leave, abashed with God's goodness to such a wretch, but withal exceedingly rejoiced that, in every circumstance, He made my way into the ministry so very plain before my face.

"This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening, I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently for about two hours, in behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me.

"On Sunday morning, I rose early, and prayed over St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, 'Let no one despise thy youth.' [When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but Samuel's standing a little child before the Lord with a linen ephod.] When the bishop laid his hands upon my head,[55] [my heart was melted down, and] I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body to the service of God's sanctuary. I read the Gospel, at the bishop's command, with power, and afterward sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses, by partaking of the holy sacrament of our Lord's most blessed body and blood.

[55] "If my vile heart doth not deceive me."--Edit. 1756.

["Being restrained from writing, as was before observed, I could not preach in the afternoon, though much solicited thereto; but I read prayers to the poor prisoners, being willing to let the first act of my ministerial office be an act of charity.

"The next morning, waiting upon God in prayer to know what He would have me to do, these words, 'Speak out, Paul,' came with great power to my soul. Immediately my heart was enlarged. God spake to me by His Spirit, and I was no longer dumb. I finished a sermon I had in hand some time before. I began another; and preached the Sunday following to a very crowded audience, with as much freedom as though I had been a preacher for some years.

"Oh, the unspeakable benefit of reading to the poor, and exercising our talents while students at the University! Such previous acts are very proper to prepare us for the work of our Lord, and make us not unapt to teach in a more public manner. It is remarkable that our Lord sent out His Apostles on short missions before they were so solemnly authorized at the day of Pentecost. Would the Heads and Tutors of our Universities follow His example, and, instead of discouraging their pupils from doing anything of this nature, send them to visit the sick and prisoners, and to pray with, and read practical books of religion to the poor, they would find such exercises of more service to them, and to the Church of God, than all their private and public lectures put together.

"Thus God dealt with my soul. At the same time, by His gracious providence, He supplied me with all things needful for my body also. For He inclined the bishop's heart to give me five guineas more; and, by this time, a quarter's allowance was due to me from Sir John Philips; both which sums put together fully served to defray the expenses of my ordination, and of taking up my bachelor's degree, which was conferred on me at Oxford the week after my being ordained, when I was about one and twenty years of age.

"These changes from a servitor to a Bachelor of Arts--from a common drawer to a clergyman--were no doubt temptations to think more highly of myself than I ought to think; and some were therefore jealous over me, as I trust they always will be, with a godly jealousy. God, who is rich in mercy, thereby forewarned me of my danger, stirred up my heart to pray against spiritual pride, and kept me, as I hope He will to the end, in some measure always humbled before Him.

"Thus did God, by a variety of unseen acts of providence and grace, train me up for, and at length introduce me into, the service of His Church."]

Here ends all that is _biographical_ in Whitefield's "Short Account of God's Dealings with him from his Infancy to the time of his entering into Holy Orders." The pamphlet concludes with an address to the reader, and with Addison's hymn, beginning--

"When all Thy mercies, O my God."

What ought to be said respecting this remarkable publication? At the time, it was pre-eminently remarkable, much more so than it would have been a hundred years afterwards. The world was not accustomed to such pious outpourings. It might have passed muster among Cromwell's Roundheads; and in the present age it would probably have died a silent death, no one either brandishing the scalping knife of the censorious critic, or dropping the tear of a loving lamenter upon its tomb. A hundred and thirty years ago the state of things was widely different to the circumstances now existing. Then religion was ridiculed rather than revered. Rare were the pious biographies committed to the press. It was almost--perhaps an absolutely--unheard-of thing for a man to publish his own religious experience. At all events, never before had a young clergyman of the Church of England, only twenty-five years of age, perpetrated an act like this. Bishops, priests, deacons, and literati of all descriptions were unpleasantly surprised; many were almost savagely indignant. Who was the piously pert neophyte writing in a strain like this? How should his publication be treated? Would it be best to be silently contemptuous? That was impossible; for the writer, though so young, had become one of the most notorious men in England. Would it be wise to review it out of existence by philosophical and sober disquisitions on its mysterious expressions, its general style, and its startling statements? Nay, this would be _infra dignitatem_. The only way remaining was to treat the book with disdainful ridicule, and its youthful author with the sarcastic severity merited by a vain, conceited, bouncing enthusiast, whose religion had made him mad.

This was the kind of treatment young Whitefield had to meet. Did he deserve it? Answers to this question will be different, according to the standpoints occupied. The man of the world will say "Yes." The response of the educated, fastidious religionist will, perhaps, be to the same effect--quite as firm, though not so loud. Men who experience and practise the same religion Whitefield did, will yield a general approval, but object to particular statements and expressions.

This, substantially, was done by Whitefield himself, when, sixteen years afterwards, he published his revised edition. As already stated, in the preface of 1756, he distinctly declares that many mistakes have been rectified, and many passages, justly exceptionable, erased. In the foot notes, the reader has seen the rectifications; and, in the passages which are bracketed, he has seen the erasures. There can be no question that the sentences and paragraphs omitted were faults. Whitefield was simple-minded, humble, and ingenuous; but, in order to magnify the grace of God, he sometimes furnished the censorious critic with an opportunity to pronounce him vain, conceited, self-glorious, proud of prayer and piety. Such a judgment, however, would be unjust. Whitefield's autobiography has many faults; but they are mental rather than moral,--the faults of defective training, inexperience, youthfulness, and impulsive ardour,--rather than of self-conceit and pride. No man knew Whitefield better than Wesley did, and no man had a wider acquaintance with human character; and yet Wesley, in advanced life, perfectly exonerated Whitefield from charges like the fore-mentioned, and declared, in reference to the very statements contained in the book now in question, that, "For their artless and unaffected simplicity, they may vie with any writings of the kind."[56]

[56] Wesley's Works; vol. vi., p. 163.

_COMMENCEMENT OF MINISTRY._

1736.

Sunday, June 20, 1736, was a grand day to Whitefield. In the imposing old cathedral, founded by Osric, "sub-regulus" of Ethelred, King of Mercia--an edifice in which Robert of Gloucester, author of the rhyming "Chronicle of England," had been a monk; and John Hooper, the immortal martyr, had been Gloucester's first Protestant prelate--stood a youth, who, five years before, had been a common tapster in an adjoining public-house. For three years and a half, by acting as a servitor, he had almost entirely maintained himself in Pembroke College, Oxford. His progress in learning had been such that he was soon to be a Bachelor of Arts. By the unsolicited and exceptional favour of Bishop Benson, at the early age of a little more than twenty-one, he now presented himself for admission into holy orders. Notwithstanding his wickedness as a child, and his fondness for "playing roguish tricks," he had always wished to be a clergyman, and had, many a time, amused himself and the companions of his boyhood by imitating ministers reading prayers. In his eighteenth year, before he went to Oxford, he had told his mother that he meant, ere long, to be a preacher; and had been rebuked for his arrogance by the good woman asking what he meant, and telling him to hold his tongue. But now the fond mother was, probably, present, in the fine old church, to witness the consummation of her George's wish--her heart filled to overflowing with honest pride and pious gratitude. And there, in all likelihood, was Gabriel Harris, one of Whitefield's earliest friends; and Robert Raikes, the manager and printer of the _Gloucester Journal_, one of Whitefield's warm admirers, and the _reputed_ founder of Sunday schools; and also not a few of Whitefield's young companions, with whom, in days not long since past, he had acted theatricals, for the amusement of the mayor and aldermen of the city, and of the head master of St. Mary de Crypt's pleasure-loving school. The hour was a solemn one for the young candidate, but it was also full of joy. He writes:--

"GLOUCESTER, _June 20, 1736_.

"This is a day much to be remembered; for, about noon, I was
solemnly admitted by good Bishop Benson, before many witnesses,
into holy orders. I endeavoured to behave with unaffected
devotion. I trust I answered every question from the bottom of
my heart. I hope the good of souls will be my only principle of
action. Let come what will--life or death--I shall henceforwards
live like one who this day, in the presence of men and angels,
took the holy sacrament upon the profession of being inwardly
moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon me that ministration in the
Church. This I began with reading prayers to the prisoners in
the county gaol. Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of
styling myself a prisoner of the Lord, I know not; but indeed,
my dear friend, I can call heaven and earth to witness that,
when the bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a
martyr for Him, who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto Him
are all future events and contingencies. I have thrown myself
blindfold, and I trust without reserve, into His almighty hands."

In such a spirit Whitefield entered upon his life-long work. He coveted the ministry, and yet he seemed to dread it. He was eager for the fight, but he trembled at being sent before his Master called him. In one of the last sermons that he preached in England, on August 30, 1769, he told the crowd, in his London tabernacle, "I never prayed against any corruption I had in my life, so much as I did against going into holy orders. I have prayed a thousand times till the sweat has dropped from my face like rain, that God, of His infinite mercy, would not let me enter the Church before He called me. I remember once in Gloucester--I know the room--I look up at the window when I am there and walk along the street--I know the bedside, and the floor upon which I prostrated myself, and cried, 'Lord, I cannot go. I shall be puffed up with pride, and fall into the condemnation of the devil. I am unfit to preach in Thy great name. Send me not, Lord, send me not yet.'"[57] No wonder that God honoured the ministry of such a man. He sought no earthly emoluments or rank. He durst not begin to preach until he was satisfied of a call from God; but, receiving that, it was no high-sounding boast, when he declared his readiness, not only to become a prisoner, but a martyr for his Divine Redeemer.

[57] Eighteen Sermons, by G. Whitefield. Taken in shorthand by
Gurney, p. 445.

Three days after his ordination, he wrote to a friend as follows:--

"GLOUCESTER, _June 23, 1736_.

"Never a poor creature set up with so small a stock. When the
good Bishop Benson announced last year, in his visitation
charge, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, my
heart leaped for joy. I thought I should have time (as my
intention was) to make at least a hundred sermons, with which to
begin my ministry. But so far from this being the case, I have
not a single one, except that which I made for a small Society,
and which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman, to convince him
how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching.
He kept it for a fortnight, and then sent it back with a guinea
for the loan of it, telling me he had divided it into two, and
had preached it morning and evening to his congregation. With
this sermon I intend to begin, God willing, next Sunday, not
doubting but that He, who increased a little lad's loaves and
fishes for the feeding of a great multitude, will, from time to
time, supply me with spiritual food for whatever congregations
He, in His all-wise providence, shall be pleased to call me
to. Help, help me, my dear friend, with your warmest addresses
to the throne of grace. At present, this is the language of my
heart--

"'A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,
Into Thy hands I fall;
Be Thou my strength, my righteousness,
My Jesus, and my all.'

"Oh, cease not to pray for

"Yours, etc.,

"GEORGE WHITEFIELD."

To another friend, he wrote, on June 26th, "To-morrow I am to preach at Crypt, but, believe me, I shall displease some, being determined to speak against their assemblies. But I must tell them the truth, or otherwise I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ." To-morrow came. Whitefield preached his first sermon; and, three days afterwards, wrote as follows:--

"GLOUCESTER, _June 30, 1736_.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Glory! glory! glory be ascribed to an
Almighty, Triune God. Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I preached
my first sermon in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, where I
was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the
Lord's Supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a
large congregation together. The sight at first a little awed
me; but I was comforted with a heartfelt sense of the Divine
presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having
been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of
exhorting and teaching the prisoners, and poor people at their
private houses, whilst at the University. By these means, I was
kept from being daunted over-much. As I proceeded, I perceived
the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a
crowd who knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to
speak with some degree of gospel authority. A few mocked, but
most for the present seemed struck; and I have since heard that
a complaint has been made to the bishop that I drove fifteen
mad. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the
madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday."

Thus did the renowned evangelist begin his ministry. Great was the effect produced. A few mocked; but most of the congregation displayed profound emotion, and, to use the slang of the young preacher's enemies, "fifteen were driven mad." Bishop Benson himself was probably not present; but the next day Whitefield wrote, "Our good bishop was pleased to give me another present of five guineas, a great supply for one who had not a guinea in the world."

The reader can easily imagine the scene in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, where the usual congregations, as in most other churches at that period, were far from overflowing. Now there was a crowd--of whom? old men, who, in years long since past, had been boon companions of Whitefield's father; aged women, who remembered him when he was a tiny infant in his mother's arms; topers, not a few, whom, as a blue-aproned tapster, he had served in the neighbouring public-house; schoolfellows with whom he had been associated in many a merry spree; and a mingled multitude who knew him only as a Gloucester boy, who, by his own exertions, had made himself an honour to his native town. And what about the preacher? There he stands, in a position which he had never occupied before, in diaconal gown and bands, somewhat awed by the multitude before him, and by a conviction of the responsibility of the office which he was now assuming; but, at the same time, nerved with fidelity to his Master, and comforted by a consciousness that God was with him; his stature above the middle height--slender, and yet well-proportioned; his manner graceful; his features regular; his complexion fair; his eyes small, lively, and of a dark-blue colour, one of them with a squint, occasioned by the measles in his childhood days; his voice unusual, both in melody and strength, and its fine modulations accompanied by the exquisite action of an accomplished orator. No wonder that one of his uneducated hearers said "he preached like a lion." The comparison was far from perfect. It expressed the force and vehemence of that oratory which awed his hearers, and made them tremble like Felix before Paul; but it failed to convey an idea of the fervent and melting charity, the earnestness of persuasion, and the outpouring of redundant love, which characterised the preaching of this youthful evangelist for the next four and thirty years.[58]

[58] See "Life and Times of Countess of Huntingdon," vol. ii. p. 355.

The subject of his first sermon was, "The Necessity and Benefit of Religious Society;"[59] probably the same sermon he afterwards preached before the Religious Societies, at one of their quarterly meetings, in Bow Church, London, and which was immediately published. "I shall displease some," said Whitefield in a letter already quoted, "for I am determined to speak against their _assemblies_." How he fulfilled his determination will be seen by the following extract from his sermon:--

"I warn you of the great danger those are in, who, either by
their subscriptions, presence, or approbation, promote Societies
of a quite opposite nature to religion. And here I would not be
understood to mean only those public meetings which are designed
manifestly for nothing else but revellings and banquetings,
for chambering and wantonness, and at which a modest _heathen_
would blush to be present; but also those seemingly _innocent_
entertainments and meetings which the _politer_ part of the
world are so very fond of, and spend so much time in; but
which, notwithstanding, keep as many persons out of a sense
of _true religion_ as intemperance, debauchery, or any other
crime whatever. Indeed, whilst we are in this world, we must
have proper relaxations, to fit us both for the business of
our profession and religion. But then, for persons who call
themselves _Christians_, that have solemnly vowed at their
_baptism_, to renounce the _vanities_ of this sinful world, and
that are commanded in Scripture to '_abstain from all appearance
of evil_,' and to have their '_conversation in heaven_,'--for
such persons as these to support meetings that (to say no worse
of them) are vain and trifling, and have a natural tendency to
draw off our minds from God, is absurd, ridiculous, and sinful."

[59] Whitefield's Life and Journals, 1756, p. 24.

This certainly was plain speaking in the first sermon of a young man only a little more than twenty-one years of age; but it is exactly what might be expected from an Oxford Methodist; and something like it is greatly needed, and would be highly useful in the pulpits of the present day. Would that preachers now had more of the uncompromising, bold, conscientious fidelity that marked the young evangelist among his townsmen in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester! Prophets "prophesy smooth things; and the people love to have it so." It was otherwise with Whitefield. "I must tell them the truth," said he to his friend only a few hours before he preached his first sermon, "I must tell them the truth, or I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ." From this he never swerved. To the end of life it was one of his great guiding principles. It often brought upon him the ridicule of wicked wits, and the displeasure of many who imagined themselves Christians; but to all this Whitefield was indifferent. His Master was Christ; and, "to his own Master," he was determined to stand or fall (Rom. xiv. 4). Not long before his death, he said, "I remember when I began to speak against baptismal regeneration--in my first sermon, printed when I was about twenty-two years old, or a little more--the first quarrel many had with me was because I did not say that all people who were baptized were born again. I would as soon believe the doctrine of transubstantiation. Can I believe that a person who, from the time of his baptism to the time, perhaps, of his death, never fights against; the world, the flesh, and the devil, and never minds one word of what his god-fathers and god-mothers promised for him, is a real Christian? No, I can as soon believe that a little wafer in the hands of a priest is the very blood and bones of Jesus Christ."[60]

[60] Eighteen Sermons, by G. Whitefield, 1771, p. 351.

So much then in reference to Whitefield's notable sermon in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, on June 27th, 1736,--the first of upwards of eighteen thousand which he preached before he died.[61]

[61] _Gospel Magazine_, 1776, p. 443.

On June 30th, he returned to Oxford, "where," he says, "I was received with great joy by my religious friends. For about a week, I continued in my servitor's habit, and then took my degree of Bachelor of Arts. My dear and honoured friends, the Reverend Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, being now for some time embarked for Georgia, and one or two more having taken orders, the interest of Methodism, as it was then and is now termed, had visibly declined, and very few of this reputed mad way were left at the University. This somewhat discouraged me at times, but the Lord Jesus supported my soul, and made me easy by giving me a strong conviction that I was where He would have me to be. I soon found my degree was of service to me, as it gave me access to those I could not be free with when in an inferior situation; and, as opportunity offered, I was enabled to converse with them about the things which belonged to the kingdom of God. The subscriptions for the poor prisoners, which amounted to about £40 per annum, were soon put into my hands. Two or three small charity schools, maintained by the Methodists, were under my more immediate inspection; which, with the time I spent in following my studies, private retirement, and religious converse, sweetly filled up the whole of my day, and kept me from the too common complaint of having any time hang upon my hands. The distributing money and books amongst the poor prisoners, and employing such as could work, I found was of admirable service. For hereby they were kept from that worst of gaol diseases--idleness; and were not only convinced that we bore a good will towards them, but also led them, as it were, under an obligation to hear the instructions we gave them. This practice was first taken up by the Messrs. Wesley; and would to God all ordinaries of prisons would copy their good example! They would deserve well of the Commonwealth, and if actuated by the love of God, would receive a glorious reward from Him, who hath said, 'I was sick and in prison, and ye came unto me.'"[62]

[62] "Further Account of God's Dealings with George Whitefield,
1747," p. 6.

* * * * *

Whitefield was happy--happy in himself, in his associates, in his work, and in his hope of heaven. A week after his arrival at Oxford, he wrote:--

"The very idea of what we are to be in glory transports me.
There, there, we shall see the blessed Jesus, whom our souls
have so eagerly thirsted after in this life, surrounded with
glory, and attended with myriads of His holy angels, who will
rejoice at our safe arrival to their holy mansions, and with
repeated echoes will welcome us to heaven. There, there,
we shall not only see, but live with Him, not for a day, a
month, a year, an age, but to all eternity. And who can tell
the pleasure, comfort, peace, joy, delight, and transport a
glorified saint will feel in the possession of his wished-for,
longed-for, ever adorable, ever gracious, blessed, beloved
triune God, and that for ever? Surely the happiness will be so
great, that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the
heart of man conceive the thousandth part thereof."

For a few weeks Whitefield devoted himself to the work of endeavouring to benefit the prisoners in Oxford gaol; and then wrote as follows:--

"I began to be more than content in my present state of life,
and had thoughts of abiding at the University, at least for some
years, to finish my studies, and do what good I could amongst
the poor despised Methodists. But, by a series of unforeseen,
unexpected, and unsought-for providences, I was called from
my beloved retirement to take a journey to the Metropolis.
Whilst I was an undergraduate, I was very intimate with one
Mr. Broughton,[63] a professed Methodist, who had lately taken
orders, and was curate at the Tower of London. With him, when
absent, I frequently corresponded; and, when present, we took
sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God as
friends. Being called down into Hampshire, he wrote me to be
of good courage, and bid me hasten to town to officiate in his
absence. Accordingly, on Wednesday, August 4th, (the prisoners
being provided for by the coming of Mr. Hervey,[64] another
young worthy Methodist, who had lately taken Deacon's Orders,)
with fear and trembling, I obeyed the summons, and went in
the stage coach to London. There being no other passenger, I
employed myself a good part of the way in earnest supplication
to the God of all grace to be my guide and comforter. In the
evening, I reached the Tower, and was kindly received by my dear
friend. The remainder of the week was spent in visiting Sir
John Philips, etc., who were too glad to see me. But God sent
me something to ballast it; for, as I passed along the streets,
many came out of their shops to see so young a person in a gown
and cassock; and one cried out, 'There's a boy parson;' which
served to mortify my pride, and put me also upon turning the
apostolical exhortation into prayer, 'Let no man despise thy
youth.'"[65]

[63] The Rev. Thomas Broughton, afterwards for many years the
secretary of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.

[64] The Rev. James Hervey, afterwards Rector of Weston-Favel, and
author of the well-known "Meditations and Contemplations," etc.

[65] "Further Account of God's Dealings with Mr. George Whitefield,
1747," p. 7.

Whitefield remained two months in London, and preached his first sermon there, on Sunday, August 8th, in Bishopsgate-street Church. "As I went up the pulpit stairs," says he, "almost all seemed to sneer at me on account of my youth; but they soon grew serious and exceedingly attentive, and, after I came down, shewed me great tokens of respect, blessed me as I passed along, and made great enquiry who I was."[66]

[66] _Ibid._, p. 8.