Chapter XXI: Part 21

“Now, sir, give me leave to appeal to your own _good sense_ and
_judgment_, whether, upon the foregoing view of ‘The Minor,’
you think it a proper entertainment for his Majesty’s comedians
to exhibit, or his Majesty’s subjects to attend to; whether
you think there is such a veneration for our holy religion
among the people, as to need any retrenchment; and whether
making the language of the Scriptures and the doctrines of the
gospel ridiculous, can be likely to answer any other end, than
increasing the daily growth of impiety and infidelity amongst
people of all degrees?”

“As to Mr. Foote, I would charitably think, that all the
knowledge he has of the several expressions and doctrines he
has ridiculed, is, in consequence of his attendance upon the
preaching of Mr. Squintum, in order to laugh at him. Hence
he thought (as he had not been used to such language) that
they were the vapours of a distempered brain, and treated them
accordingly; so that, like Solomon’s madman, he has been casting
about firebrands, arrows, and death, and saying, ‘Am I not in
sport?’ I hope, however, Mr. Foote will endeavour to inform
himself better, and then make what amends he can to the public,
for having been the promoter of an open attack upon the truths
and _language_ of the _sacred volume_, by the mouths of the
most profligate and wicked of the people; for we can hardly walk
the streets, but we hear ballads, in which the _very words_ of
our blessed Saviour are blasphemed, and treated as the _rare
doctrine_ of Dr. Squintum.”

It is hoped that quotations like these will justify the treating of this subject at so great a length. To say nothing of Foote, and his lewd audiences in the little theatre in the Haymarket, it was a serious, almost a national, crime and evil when such profanity and pollution were introduced into His Majesty’s Theatre Royal, in Drury Lane; and when, prompted by such a high example, Grub Street began to supply ballads, of the same horrible description as the farce of Foote, to the boys and girls, the drunkards and profligates, of England’s great metropolis.[482]

Besides Mr. Madan’s pamphlet, another was published, in Whitefield’s favour, in November, 1760, namely: “A Letter to Mr. Foote, occasioned by his Letter to the Reverend Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor;’ containing a Refutation of Mr. Foote’s Pamphlet, and a full Defence of the Principles and Practices of the Methodists. By the Author of the Christian and Critical Remarks.” (8vo. 28 pp.)

This was a well-written pamphlet; but another, by the same author, published in the same month, was not so prudently composed. Its title was, “An Exhortatory Address to the Brethren in the Faith of Christ. Occasioned by a Remarkable Letter from Mr. Foote to the Reverend Author of Christian and Critical Remarks on ‘The Minor.’ With a serious word or two on the present Melancholy Occasion. By a Minister of the Church of Christ.” The “serious word or two” spoilt all the rest; for the author rashly insinuated that the encouragement given to Foote was the sin which had brought upon the nation a Divine judgment, in the recent sudden death of George II. As might be expected, this gave an advantage to Foote and to his friends. On reading the pamphlet, the _Monthly Review_ exclaimed, “_O thou wrong-headed leader of the wrong-heads! Fie on thee! Fie on thee!_”

On the other side, a long letter, filling nearly a page, was inserted in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of November 14. It began as follows: “We now have the pleasure of seeing Methodism ushered in in comic characters, and the ridiculous gesture of the Tabernacle Impostor mimicked in the easier attitude of the stage.” The writer proceeds to criticise what he calls Methodism’s “favourite tenet, the _grace of assurance_, good works being not significant;” and then wishes “we had some formal Court of Judicature, to detect the cunning cant and hypocrisy of all pretenders to sanctity and devotion, for then we should be able to guard against those who preach to us salvation with a view to make us undergo a _temporal fleecing_.” With a sneer, he concludes thus:――

“What a monstrous piece of inhumanity are we venerators of
apostolic doctrine and episcopal dignity to these pretended
saint errants and non-apostolical preachers! To complete their
unhappiness, we have made them a theatrical scoff, and the
common jest and scorn of every chorister in the street.”

Five days afterwards, there appeared, in the same journal, a letter by Wesley, replying to this “very angry gentleman,” whom he presumed to be “a retainer of the theatre.” This evoked a disgracefully abusive answer, on November 24, which concluded with the polite assertion, that “arguing with Methodists is like pounding fools in a mortar.” Wesley again replied, on December 3; and his opponent, angrier than ever, in a long epistle, on December 12. In one of his quiet, but caustic letters, Wesley concluded the correspondence on December 26.

During this lengthened controversy, between Wesley and his nameless adversary, two more pamphlets were given to the public. The first was entitled, “A Letter to Mr. F――te. Occasioned by the Christian and Critical Remarks on his Interlude, called ‘The Minor.’ To which is added an Appendix, relative to a Serious Address to the Methodists themselves.” (12mo. 28 pp.) The thing was full of banter and badness,――bespattering Whitefield, and extolling Foote. The second was an equally vile production: “Observations, Good or Bad, Stupid or Clever, Serious or Jocular, on Squire Foote’s Dramatic Entertainment, entitled ‘The Minor.’ By a Genius.” (12mo. 15 pp.) In the _Genius’s_ estimation, “the _fable_ of ‘The Minor’ is pretty and entertaining; the _manners_ happily described; the _sentiments_ just and natural; and the _language_ easy and spirited!!!” The critique of the _Monthly Review_ on this production of “a Genius” was contained in a single line: “All the humour of this lies in the title-page.”

These lengthened details may be somewhat tedious; but they show the terrible _fracas_ in which Whitefield was involved during the year 1760. This certainly was one of the most painful years of his eventful life. The persecution also was novel. He had been abused by clergymen in England, Scotland, and America, by pamphleteers learned and illiterate, and by mobs; but now, for the first time, he was ridiculed by theatrical comedians and their friends. Other opponents had been severe; but, as a rule, they had not been ribald and profane. Now it was otherwise. The farce of Foote, and the ballads in the streets, were steeped in blasphemy and filth. And yet, with the exception already mentioned, they are never noticed in any of Whitefield’s published letters. That he suffered――keenly suffered――it is impossible to doubt; but there is no evidence that he murmured or complained. No man more fully realized the truth and meaning of the Saviour’s beatitude, “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you _falsely_, for my sake.”

“The Minor” was not the only farce published against Whitefield. At least, three other kindred productions were printed during the ensuing year. First, there was “An Additional Scene to the Comedy of ‘The Minor.’ London, 1761.” (8vo. 19 pp.) In this, Whitefield was described as “a priestly-looking man, with a cast in his eyes, and wearing a white flaxen wig,” and who, on being introduced to Foote, presented a comedy of his own composing, and requested Foote to act it. Then, there was “The Register Office: a Farce of Two Acts. Acted at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane. By J. Reed. London, 1761.” (8vo. 47 pp.) A filthy thing, in which Whitefield is called “Mr. Watchlight,” instead of “Dr. Squintum;” and “Mrs. Snarewell” answers to “Mrs. Cole” in “The Minor” by Foote. “Lady Wrinkle” and “Mrs. Snarewell” are both _dramatis personæ_ in the printed farce; but a foot-note states, “These two characters were not _permitted_ to be played.” Then, finally, there was “The Methodist: a Comedy: being a Continuation and Completion of the Plan of ‘The Minor’ written by Mr. Foote: as it was intended to have been acted at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, but for obvious reasons suppressed. With the original Prologue and Epilogue. London, 1761.” (8vo. 60 pp.) This, if possible, was even more profane and polluted than “The Minor” itself; and, though not acted, it soon passed through three editions. “Squintum” and “Mrs. Cole” were both among the leading characters; but to quote what they are made to say would be a crime. Half a dozen lines, however, taken from the prologue, may be given:――

“No private pique this just resentment draws,
Or brands a wretched _Squintum_, or his cause;
But, since the laws no punishment provide
For such as draw the multitude aside,
The poet seizes the corrective rod,
To scourge the bold blasphemer of his God.”

A disgusting specimen of the audacious falsehoods of the _blaspheming_ Foote! To use one of Whitefield’s own expressions, none but a wretched being, “_half a beast and half a devil_,” could have written “The Minor” and “The Methodist.” The following is the _Monthly Review’s_ critique on the latter of these infamous productions:――

“Mr. Foote’s ‘Minor’ is the foundation of this despicable
superstructure, by means of which the scandalous abuse of
Mr. Whitefield, under the opprobrious name of Dr. Squintum,
is carried to such a height, as, in our judgment, reflects
the utmost disgrace upon literature.”[483]

It is mournful to relate, that the wretched Foote hunted Whitefield, with undiminished hatred, to the end of Whitefield’s life. Two months after the great preacher’s death, in 1770, Foote was acting “The Minor” in the theatre at Edinburgh. The first night’s audience was large; but the indecency of the piece so shocked the people, that, at the following night’s performance, only ten of the female sex had effrontery sufficient to witness such profane impurity. Meanwhile, the news arrived of Whitefield’s decease, and loud was the outcry against ridiculing the man after he was dead. The Revs. Dr. Erskine, Dr. Walker, and Mr. Baine denounced Foote’s outrageous behaviour from their respective pulpits. “How base and ungrateful,” exclaimed the last-mentioned minister, “is such treatment of the dead! and that, too, so very nigh to a family of orphans, the records of whose hospital will transmit Mr. Whitefield’s name to posterity with honour, when the memory of others will rot. How illiberal such usage of one, whose seasonable good services for his king and country are well known; and whose indefatigable labours for his beloved Master were countenanced by heaven!”[484]

Here, while the buffoon, as it were, gesticulates, capers, and makes grimaces over Whitefield’s corpse, we take our leave of Foote for ever.

Before passing from the year 1760, one more publication must be mentioned. Its title was “Pious Aspirations for the use of Devout Communicants, either before, at, or after the Time of Receiving. Founded on the History of the Sufferings of Christ, as related by the Four Evangelists. Extracted from the English Edition of the three Volumes of the Rev. Mr. J. Rambach, late Professor of Divinity in the University of Giessen. By George Whitefield, Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon. London, 1760.” (12mo. 104 pp.) This little book is often beautiful, and always intensely earnest and devout.

The first glimpse of Whitefield, in 1761, is on February 21, when he wrote as follows:――

“London. The distance that Plymouth lies from London, is one
great cause of my coming there so seldom. What can I do, who
have so many calls, and so few assistants? London must be minded;
for, surely, there the word runs, and is glorified more and
more. I returned in post-haste, last month, from Bristol. Both
in going and coming, dear Mr. H―――― and I were in great jeopardy.
Once the machine fell over; and, at another time, we were
obliged to leap out of the post-chaise, though going very fast.
Blessed be God, we received little hurt. Good was to be done. On
the Fast-day, near £600 were collected for the German and Boston
sufferers. Grace! grace! I wish you had collected at Bristol.
When can you move? Pray let me know directly. I want my wife to
ride as far as Plymouth. Nothing but exercise will do with her.”

The general fast, here mentioned, was held on Friday, February 13. On that day, Whitefield preached early in the morning, at the Tabernacle, from Exodus xxxiv. 1, etc., and collected £112. In the forenoon, at Tottenham Court Road, he selected, as his text, “Blow the trumpet in Zion, sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly.” Here the collection was £242. In the evening, he preached again in the Tabernacle, choosing for his text, “The Lord said unto Noah, Come thou and all thy house into the ark; for thee have I seen righteous before me in this generation.” The third collection amounted to £210.[485] The ridicule of Foote, so far from lessening, had increased Whitefield’s popularity. On the day in question, not only did his congregations crowd the two chapels, but comprised an assemblage of the aristocracy of England rarely witnessed in a Methodist meeting-house. Among others present, there were the Countess of Huntingdon, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Fanny Shirley, Lord Halifax, Lord Holdernesse, Secretary of State; Lord Bute, who soon succeeded him in his office; the Duke of Grafton, then rising rapidly into public life; Lady Harrington; Charles Fox then a boy, but, afterwards, the celebrated statesman and orator; William Pitt, Lord Villiers, and Soame Jennys, who held office in the Board of Trade, and acquired imperishable fame by his “View of the Internal Evidences of the Christian Religion.” The collections, made on the occasion, were for a twofold purpose, partly for the benefit of the plundered Protestants in the Marche of Brandenburg, and partly to relieve the distresses of the inhabitants of Boston, in New England, where a fire had destroyed nearly four hundred dwelling-houses. No wonder that they amounted to upwards of £560.[486]

Soon after this, Whitefield received assistance in his London work, from Berridge, of Everton, late moderator of Cambridge. Hence the following extracts from his letters:――

“LONDON, _February 23, 1761_.

“The Redeemer’s work is upon the advance. All opposition is
over-ruled for the furtherance of the gospel. A new instrument
is raised up out of Cambridge University. He has been here
preaching like an angel of the churches.”

Again, to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow:――

“LONDON, _March 14, 1761_.

“One Mr. Berridge, late moderator of Cambridge, has been
preaching here with great flame. The awakening is rather greater
than ever. Satan’s artillery has done but little execution.

“‘Thoughts are vain against the Lord,
All subserve His standing word;
Wheels encircling wheels must run,
Each in course to bring it on.
Hallelujah!’”

The truth is, Whitefield needed help. During his late visit to the city of Bristol, he had caught a cold, which so seriously affected his health, that, in one of the London newspapers, it was announced that he was dead.[487] His illness disabled him during the whole of the months of March and April. Hence the following, from _Lloyd’s Evening Post_:――

“April 13. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield is so well recovered from his
late illness, that he appeared abroad on Saturday last.

“April 29. The Rev. Mr. Whitefield was so well on Sunday, as to
assist in administering the sacrament of the Lord’s supper.”

The following letters were written when Whitefield was convalescent:――

“CANONBURY HOUSE, _April 27, 1761_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,――Accept a few lines of love unfeigned
from a worthless worm, just returning ♦from the borders of the
eternal world. O into what a world was I launching! But the
prayers of God’s people have brought me back. Lord Jesus, let
it be for Thy glory, and the welfare of precious and immortal
souls! O how ought ministers to work before the night of
sickness and death comes, when no man can work! You will
not cease to pray for me, who am indeed less than the least
of all. Weakness forbids my enlarging. Hearty love to all
who are so kind as to enquire after a hell-deserving, but
redeemed, creature. Not only pray, but also give thanks to the
never-failing Emmanuel, who has been ease in pain, health in
sickness, life in death, to yours, for His great name’s sake,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

The next was addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow.

“CANONBURY HOUSE, _May 2, 1761_.

“Indeed, my dear friend, the news you have heard was true. I
have been at the very gates of what is commonly called death.
They seemed opening to admit me, through the alone righteousness
of the blessed Jesus, into everlasting life. But, at present,
they are closed again. For what end, an all-wise Redeemer can
only tell. I have, since my illness, once assisted a little
at the Lord’s supper, and once have spoken a little in public.
But my locks are cut. Natural strength fails. Jesus can renew;
Jesus can cause to grow again. By His divine permission, I
have thoughts of seeing Scotland. If I relapse, that will be a
desirable place to go to heaven from. I love, I love the dear
people of Scotland! Ten thousand thanks to you, and all my dear
Glasgow friends.”

It is a disgraceful fact, that, while Whitefield was thus tottering back from the margin of the grave, the _St. James’s Chronicle_, of April 28, filled a column and a half of its folio sheet, with what it was pleased to call “Similes, Metaphors, and Familiar Allusions made use of by Dr. Squintum.” Only the last in the list shall be given.

“I will tell you the very picture of damned souls in hell. Have
you never seen a potter’s oven, where he bakes his pots? Now the
longer these pots bake, the harder they grow. Just so does one
of these damned souls. God keep you and me, dear brethren, from
ever being one of their unhappy number! (Sighing by the people.)”

For the next twelve months, Whitefield was an invalid, and, with a few exceptions, was obliged to refrain from preaching. The following extracts from his letters are painfully interesting. His health was gone, and yet, when he could, he tried to preach.

“PLYMOUTH, _June 5, 1761_.

“Through Divine mercy, I am somewhat improved in my health
since my leaving London. At Bristol, I grew sensibly better, but
hurt myself by too long journeys to Exeter and hither. However,
blessed be God! I am now recovered from my fatigue, and hope
bathing will brace me up for my glorious Master’s use again.
The few times I have been enabled to preach, the infinitely
condescending Redeemer has breathed upon the word. Who knows but
I may get my wings again? Abba, Father, all things are possible
with Thee!”

“BRISTOL, _June 11, 1761_.

“These few lines leave me rather hurt by my late western
journey. I strive to put out to sea as usual, but my shattered
bark will not bear it. If this air does not agree with me,
I think of returning, in a few days, to my old nurses and
physicians. Blessed be God for an interest in an infinitely
great, infinitely gracious, and sympathising, unchangeable
Physician! I hope you and yours enjoy much of His heart-cheering
consolations. These have been my support in my younger days;
these will be my cordials in the latter stages of the road.
Jesus lives when ministers die.”

In the beginning of July, Whitefield had returned to London. Meanwhile, news had arrived of the English fleets having taken Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany, and Dominica in the West Indies. Pondicherry, also, the capital settlement of the French in the East Indies, had been surrendered to the British troops, and the English were left undisputed masters of the rich coast of Coromandel, and of the whole trade of the vast Indian Peninsula, from the Ganges to the Indus. Considering how, for the last quarter of a century, Whitefield’s whole soul had been absorbed in the great work of preaching Christ and saving souls, it is curious to see him so profoundly interested in the war which was now raging in the four quarters of the earth, and in the victories won by the British arms. Hence the following:――

“London, July 6, 1761. Blessed be God, I am better! Blessed be
God that you are so likewise! Who knows what rest and time may
produce? Oh to be blanks in the hands of Jesus! When shall this
once be? What good news by sea and land! Grace! Grace!”

Wesley was now in Yorkshire, and was anxious about the health of his old and much-loved friend. He had been in company with Venn, who had become vicar of Huddersfield, and Venn had created fears that Whitefield’s labours and life were almost ended. Hence, in a letter to Mr. Ebenezer Blackwell, the London banker, Wesley wrote:――

“Bradford, July 16, 1761. Mr. Venn informs me that Mr.
Whitefield continues very weak. I was in hope, when he wrote
to me lately, that he was swiftly recovering strength. Perhaps,
sir, you can send me better news concerning him. What need have
we, while we do live, to live in earnest!”[488]

For weeks after this, Whitefield was almost entirely silent. To an afflicted friend, he wrote:――

“LONDON, _October 13, 1761_.

“MY DEAR FELLOW-PRISONER,――I hope the all-wise Redeemer is
teaching us to be content to be buried ourselves, and to bury
our friends. This is a hard but important lesson. I have not
preached a single sermon for some weeks. Last Sunday, I spoke a
little; but I have felt its effects ever since. Father, Thy will
be done! Glory be to God, that some good was done at Plymouth!
The news drove me to my knees, and stirred up an ambition to
be employed again. I have met with changes. My two old servants
are married, and gone. Mr. E――――” (query John Edwards?) “has
preached for me some time. As yet, the congregations are kept
up.”

Immediately after this, Whitefield set out for Edinburgh, to obtain medical advice. While halting at Leeds, he received news of the death of one of his assistants at Bethesda; and wrote as follows:――

“Leeds, October 24, 1761. I am still in this dying world, but
frequently tempted to wish the report of my death had been
true, since my disorder keeps me from my old delightful work
of preaching. But Jesus can teach us to exercise our passive as
well as active graces. Fain would I say, ‘Thy will be done!’
I know now what nervous disorders are. Blessed be God that they
were contracted in His service! I am riding for my health; but
I think a voyage would brace me up. I impute my present disorder,
in a great measure, to the want of my usual sea voyages.

“What sudden changes here! O that my great change were come!
Happy Polhill! Bethesda’s loss is thy gain! To be carried to
heaven in an instant; from a ship’s cabin into Abraham’s bosom;
O what a blessing! God sanctify and make up the loss! We shall
find few Polhills.

“I see you are running in arrears. Some way or other, I trust,
they will be discharged. But I would have the family reduced as
low as can be. The keeping of those who are grown up hurts them,
and increases my expense. I have little comfort in many whom I
have assisted. But our reward is with the Lord. I can at present
bear very little of outward cares.”

Five days later, Whitefield had reached Newcastle, where he wrote the following to Mr. Robert Keen, of London:――

“NEWCASTLE, _October 29, 1761_.

“MY DEAR STEADY FRIEND,――Hitherto the Lord has helped me.
Surely His mercy endureth for ever. I bear riding sixty miles a
day in a post-chaise quite well. Friends, both here and at Leeds,
are prudent, and do not press me to preach much. But, I hope,
I am travelling in order to preach. If not, Lord Jesus help
me to drink the bitter cup of a continued silence with a holy
resignation, believing that what is, is best! Everywhere, as I
came along, my spiritual children gladly received me. I hope you
go on well at London. It is the Jerusalem――the Goshen. To-morrow,
I may set forwards towards Edinburgh.”

At Edinburgh, Whitefield consulted four eminent physicians.[489] There are only two more letters to tell the remainder of his story during the year 1761: the first addressed to the Rev. John Gillies, of Glasgow; the second to Mr. Robert Keen, of London.

“Edinburgh, November 9, 1761. Though I have been very ill since
my coming to Edinburgh, yet I must come to see my dear friends
at Glasgow. I cannot be there till noon on the 12th inst. Little,
very little, can be expected from a dying man.”

“Leeds, December 1, 1761. It is near ten at night and I am to
set off to-morrow in the Leeds stage for London. Silence is
enjoined me for a while by the Edinburgh physicians. They say my
case is then recoverable. The great Physician will direct.”

The poor fellow apparently was dying; but, even under such circumstances, his enemies could not restrain their malice. It is a painful thing to advert again to hostile publications, but Whitefield’s history cannot be fully told without it. Some, belonging to 1761, have been already noticed; others, unfortunately, are, as yet, unmentioned:――

1. “A Funeral Discourse, occasioned by the much-lamented Death of Mr. Yorick, Prebendary of Y――k, and Author of the much-admired ‘Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy.’ Preached before a very mixed Society of _Jemmies_, _Jessamies_, _Methodists_, and _Christians_, at a nocturnal meeting in Petticoat Lane; and now Published, at the unanimous request of the hearers, by Christopher Flagellan, A.M. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.) It is enough to say that this profane and filthy production was dedicated to “the Right Honourable the Lord F――――g, and _to the very facetious Mr. Foote_!”

2. “A Journal of the Travels of Nathaniel Snip, a Methodist Teacher of the Word. Containing an Account of the many Marvellous Adventures which befel him in his way from the town of Kingston-upon-Hull to the City of York. London, 1761.” (8vo. 32 pp.) This was an infamous production, full of burlesque and banter; but the foot-note, at the end of it, will be quite enough to satisfy the reader’s craving:――

“As Snip’s manuscript concludes thus abruptly, I beg leave
to finish the whole with an account of what I observed at a
puppet show, exhibited at one of the principal towns in the
west of Yorkshire. Punch was introduced in the character of
Parson Squintum, the field-preacher, holding forth to a number
of wooden-headed puppets, mostly composed of old women and
ungartered journeymen of different callings. The more noise
Punch (_alias_ Squintum) made, the more the audience sighed and
groaned. At last, _Squintum_ said something about _a woman with
the moon under her feet_, and pointed up to the sky, on which he
desired them to fix their eyes with steadfastness. They did so;
and, while their eyes were thus fixed, he very fairly picked all
their pockets, and stole off. Oh, Punch, Punch! Thou Alexander
the Coppersmith! thou Ananias Inlignante! what will become of
thee hereafter, for thus vilifying the _Inspired of Heaven_, the
_Grand Obstetrix_ of those _chosen few_, who are _impregnate_
with the _New Birth_!”

3. A third of these malignant productions _professed_ to have for its author the most notorious quack of the age, “Dr. Rock,” and was entitled, “A Letter to the Reverend Mr. G――e Wh――――d, A.B., late of Pembroke College, Oxford.” (12mo. 8 pp.) The purport of this bantering tract was, a proposal that, as Rock and Whitefield were both quacks, they should enter into partnership. The thing displayed cleverness,――perhaps too great to affiliate it on the great empiric. One or two extracts must suffice:――

“If you set up for a copy of St. Paul (as it is observed you
do, even to the mimicking of Raphael’s picture of him at Hampton
Court), I do the same by the old stager――_Hypocrites_, I think
they call him. If you undertake to cleanse and purify the soul,
I do the like by the body. If you are an enemy to the regular
drones of your profession, I am as much to those of ours. If you
profess to serve the public for the sake of the public, so do
I. Do you pocket the fee when it is offered?――I do the same. Are
the mob your customers?――they are mine likewise. Are you called
a quack in _doctrinals_?――I bear the same reproach in practice.
Are you the scorn and jest of men of sense?――I want but very
little of being as much their jest and scorn as you. In a word,
as it is said that you turn the brains of your patients, it is
affirmed, with equal truth, that I destroy the constitutions of
mine.”

Supposing Whitefield might have objections to the proposed partnership, Rock pretends that he has objections too; for, says he:――

“Nobody, I thank God, can upbraid me with devouring widows’
houses; leading captive silly women; confounding the peace and
ruining the substance of families; preaching up Christ, and
playing the devil; blindly recommending charity, and, at the
same time, guilty of the worst oppression by squeezing the last
mite out of the pockets of the poor.”

Dr. Rock concludes by stating that Whitefield “is a public pest, an incendiary of the worst kind, and a deceiver of the people.”

This was bad to bear, especially for a man in Whitefield’s state of health; but more must follow:――

4. “The Crooked Disciple’s Remarks upon the Blind Guide’s Method of Preaching for some years; being a Collection of the Principal Words, Sayings, Phraseology, Rhapsodies, Hyperboles, Parables, and Miscellaneous Incongruities of the Sacred and Profane, commonly, repeatedly, and peculiarly made use of by the Reverend Dr. Squintum, delivered by him, _viva voce ex Cathedra_, at Tottenham Court, Moorfields, etc. A work never before attempted. Taken _verbatim_ from a constant attendance. Whereby the honesty of this Preacher’s intentions may be judged of from his own doctrine. By the learned John Harman, Regulator of Enthusiasts. London, 1761.” (8vo. 48 pp.)

This was one of the vilest pamphlets ever published. Its trash cannot be quoted. It is enough to say that, besides “A Short Specimen of the Rev. Dr. Squintum’s Extemporary Sermons,” it contains what it calls one of Whitefield’s prayers, prefaced thus:――

“The following preamble is Dr. Squintum’s fervent, solemn form
of prayer; delivered by him in an attitude similar to that of
_Ajax_, in _Ovid’s Metamorphoses_. His body erect, his hands
extended, his face thrown upwards, with his eyes gazing towards
the stars. _Torvo vulto, tendens ad sidera palmas._ Alternately
changing from his theatrical astonishments into violent
enthusiastical agitations and distortions, accompanied with
weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth! _Strange vicissitudes!_
which he strictly keeps up to, throughout the whole of his
preaching.”

5. “The Spiritual Minor. A Comedy. London.” (8vo. 32 pp.) Another infamous production, with a “Prologue,” by Mrs. Cole, and an “Epilogue,” by Dr. Squintum. The _dramatis personæ_ are Mr. Squintum, Mr. Rakish, Mr. Screamwell, Mr. Scruple, Mr. Cheatwell, Feeble, Mrs. Cole, and Miss Ogle.

All this is extremely loathsome, and worthy of Foote, the comedian. Two other names, much more respectable than Doctor Rock and John Harman, must now be introduced.

6. Jonas Hanway, the distinguished merchant, traveller, and philanthropist, was now in the fiftieth year of his age. Eight years before, he had published his travels, in four 4to. volumes, under the title of “An Historical Account of the Caspian Trade over the Caspian Sea; with a Journal of Travels from London, through Russia, into Persia, etc.; to which are added the Revolutions of Persia during the present Century, with the particular History of the Great Usurper, Nadir Kouli.” In 1754, he called the attention of the Government to the bad state of the streets in London and Westminster. In 1756, he took steps which ultimately led to the establishment of the Marine Society. In 1758, he made strenuous exertions to improve the Foundling, and to establish the Magdalen Hospitals. And now, in 1761, he published “Reflections, Essays, and Meditations on Life and Religion; with a Collection of Proverbs in Alphabetical Order; and Twenty-eight Letters, written occasionally on several subjects――viz., The Absurd Notions of the Sect called Methodists; The Customs of foreign Nations in regard to Harlots; The Lawless Commerce of the Sexes; The Repentance of Prostitutes; And the great Humanity and Beneficence of the Magda_lane_ Charity. By Mr. Hanway. London, 1761.” (Two vols., 8vo., pp. 280 and 317.)

As Mr. Hanway became so notable a man, that, two years after his death, a monument, by public subscription, was erected to his memory, in Westminster Abbey; his sentiments on Whitefield deserve insertion. At all events, the critique of the benevolent old bachelor, who had the courage to be the first who appeared in the streets of London carrying an umbrella, will, perhaps, amuse the reader.

“I intended, a long while since,” says he, “to hear Mr.
Whitefield at Tottenham Court, and I have at length compassed
my design. The _prayers_ were performed with as much devotion
as one generally finds at any church, and, as well as I remember,
without any _excursions_ foreign to the Church Service. Fame
had represented him to me as a great _orator_; but in this I
was a little disappointed, not but he performs, upon the whole,
_tolerably well_. The _tunes_ and _concordance_ of the singing
are also very _proper_ and agreeable; though I thought that
_psalms_, or _anthems_, would be better than _hymns_; or the
true harmony of sense and numbers, than such _poor poetry_ as
was sung.

“When he began his _sermon_, the oddness of some of his
_conceits_, his _manner_, and turn of _expression_, had I not
been in a place of public _worship_, would have excited my
laughter. As he went on, I became _serious_, then _astonished_,
and at length _confounded_. My confusion arose from a mixture
of _sorrow and indignation_, that any man bearing the name of
a _minister_ of our _meek and blessed Redeemer_, or the dignity
of the _Christian priesthood_, should demean himself like an
inhabitant of _Bedlam_. I thought I saw human nature in distress,
as much as in the cells of _lunatics_; with this difference,
that he was permitted to go abroad, and make others as _mad_ as
himself; which he might be able to accomplish by means of the
_credulity of his audience_, joined to the _art_ of making them
think that himself and his _fraternity_ are the only people _in
their senses_.

“I must inform you, that, opposite to this _celebrated_ preacher,
sat a dozen or more of old women, of that class who, within this
half-century, might easily have been persuaded, by _threats_ or
_promises_, that they had rode in the air on _broomsticks_, and,
confessing it, might have been put to death by people as much
bewitched as themselves. Their intellectual powers are so far
decayed, that they do not distinguish between _receiving alms_,
in relief of their misery, and _receiving hire_, as _hummers
and hawers_. This is the denomination given, by many sober
persons, to these _old women_, some of whom, I am assured, have
_confessed_ that they are retained ♦by hire, for _sighing and
groaning_.”

Mr. Hanway proceeds to say that he had been to the Haymarket, to see “The Minor” acted, but “had not health, nor patience to sit out above half of it.” He adds:――

“I wish the _principles_ of the Methodists may be understood
more clearly by being brought on the _stage_; but I question if
the character of the _bawd_, in ‘The Minor,’ has any existence,
and, if so, the whole fabric of the _drama_ is built on false
grounds. If it does exist, is it so proper a subject for the
theatre, as for _St. Luke’s Hospital_? This dramatic piece
may possibly intimidate some from becoming _Methodists_; but,
however _popular_ it may be, I am very doubtful concerning the
_propriety_ of the measure, as to the end of correcting the
_enthusiasm_ in question. It is said, that, this comedy ‘has
shaken the _pillars of Tottenham Tabernacle_,’ and I must add,
that, I believe no harm would happen were it to tumble, provided
the poor people, who frequent it, were at their _work_, or
saying their prayers in their parish churches.

“As to the _peruke_ and _shoemaker_ declaimers, whose
recommendation is consummate impudence, warm imaginations,
and the remembrance of texts which they have no capacity to
understand, it would be an indignity offered to the Christian
priesthood to call such persons _Teachers_ or _Preachers_ of the
Gospel. And as to the _gentlemen_ of Methodistical tenets, who
have had a scholastic education, how few among them are there
who would not _face about to the right_, for the consideration
of a good ecclesiastical benefice. I have very _particular
reasons_ to believe the major part of them would conform to
Church orthodoxy and _intelligible_ Christianity, if they did
not find a better living in another way.”

7. So much for the eccentric Jonas Hanway. Another pamphleteer――much more able, though not so well known to fame――must now be introduced. Whitefield had already been attacked by the Bishop of London, the Bishop of Lichfield, and the Bishop of Exeter. Now, he came under the lash of the Rev. John Green, D.D., Bishop of Lincoln. In 1760, Dr. Green published an 8vo. pamphlet of seventy pages, addressed to Berridge, of Everton; but that must be passed without further notice. A year later, he issued another pamphlet with the title, “The Principles and Practices of the Methodists farther considered; in a Letter to the Reverend Mr. George Whitefield. Cambridge, 1761.” (8vo. 74 pp.) The Bishop of Lincoln wrote with great ability. The chief fault to be found with him is, that, he based his strictures upon the first editions of Whitefield’s Journals, and his “Short Account of God’s Dealings with him,” published in 1740. This was hardly fair, because Whitefield, since then, had, more than once, publicly expressed his regret for having used certain loose and extravagant expressions in these productions. Dr. Green was either not acquainted with Whitefield’s apologies, or he chose, for some hidden purpose, not to acknowledge them. Anyhow, remembering that such apologies had been made, and that Whitefield’s health was now even dangerously affected, paragraphs, like the following, were neither courteous nor fair:――

“In that curious repository of religious anecdotes, called your
Journals, I have often seen and pitied the distress you have
been in between strength of inclination and want of ability;
when you have recited several things, which bordered on the
marvellous, and which, notwithstanding, you did not care to
vouch for miraculous.

“All the exalted things you have said, and all the wonderful
things you have done, will pass, I fear, with many, only for the
frenzy and rant of fanaticism. They will be apt to think your
journeyings the effects of a roving and itinerant temper, and
ascribe them to a strong tincture of that heroical passion, by
which so many saints of the Romish communion have been actuated.

“Though possessed of so happy a talent at opening the hearts
and purses of the people, that you were traduced under the
name of ‘the Spiritual Pickpocket,’ yet you have not ventured
to trust your support to the precarious offerings of voluntary
contribution. Though you have not chosen to put yourself in a
situation to claim any legal dues; yet you have lately dispensed
your instructions, on the stipulation of certain periodical
payments, and under the sanction of that unquestionable truth,
‘that the labourer is worthy of his hire.’

“We have instances on record, how an audience has been dissolved
into tears by an orator, without knowing a single syllable of
that which he uttered; have been moved by the efficacy of words
which they did not understand, and by the goodly appearance of
the speaker, whom they knew nothing of, to yield the sincerest
proofs of their convictions by a liberal supply of such good
things as he wanted. Some incidents of the same sort are said
to have happened to yourself, and that the bare sight of your
blessed gown and wig, though out of the reach of that elocution
which so much surprises, and that pathos which so much moves,
has not only softened the hearts and moistened the eyes, but
drawn large pecuniary supplies to your charitable designs from
the pity and benevolence of your female disciples.”

These were taunts unworthy of a bishop of the Established Church, and undeserved by poor afflicted Whitefield. Doubtless, they were painful; but they were patiently endured.

Whitefield’s health was somewhat better. On January 8, 1762, he wrote: “The Scotch journey did me service. I preached on New Year’s Day, and am to do so again to-morrow. I had a violent fall upon my head, from my horse, last Thursday, but was not hurt. Mr. Berridge is here, and preaches with power. Blessed be God that some can speak, though I am laid aside!”

No information exists as to how Whitefield spent the first three months of 1762. He still, however, was the subject of disgraceful persecution. During this interval, there was published a small 8vo. volume (price 2s. 6d.), entitled, “A Plain and Easy Road to the Land of Bliss, a Turnpike set up by Mr. Orator ――――.” No good end would be answered by quotations from it. “It is,” said the _Monthly Review_, “contemptible for its stupidity. It is a filthy, obscene thing, for which the dirty author ought to be washed in a horse-pond.”[490]

In April, Whitefield went to Bristol, where he continued for about a month. The following extracts from his letters will shew the progress he was making:――

“Bristol, April 17, 1762. Bristol air agrees with me. I have
been enabled to preach five times this last week, without being
hurt. Were the door open for an American voyage, I believe it
would be serviceable in bracing up my relaxed tabernacle. But
He who knoweth all things, knoweth what is best. I see more and
more, that grace must be tried. O for a heart to be made willing
to be nothing, yea, less than nothing, that God may be all in
all!”

“Bristol, April 18, 1762. Sunday. This morning I have been
administering the ordinance; and this evening I hope to be upon
my throne again. Who knows but I may yet be so far restored as
to sound the gospel trumpet for my God? The quietness I enjoy
here, with the daily riding out, seems to be one very proper
means. Be this as it will, I know ere long I shall serve our
Lord without weariness. A few more blows from friends, and from
foes, and the pitcher will be broken. Then the wicked one will
cease from troubling, and the weary traveller arrive at his
wished-for rest.”

“Bristol, May 4, 1762. I see it is always darkest before the
break of day. O that we could always remember that blessed
promise, ‘At evening-tide it shall be light’! The archers have
of late shot sorely at me and grieved me; but blessed be God for
a little revival in my bondage. For these three weeks past, I
have been enabled to preach four or five times a week; but you
would scarce know me, I am so swollen, and so corpulent. Blessed
be God for the prospect of a glorious resurrection!”

On his way back to London, Whitefield wrote as follows:――

“Rodborough, May 21, 1762. I hope to be in London on Tuesday
or Wednesday next. Through Divine mercy, preaching four or five
times a week has not hurt me; and twice or thrice I have been
enabled to take the field: in my opinion, a greater honour than
to be monarch of the universe. London cares and London labours,
I expect, will bring me low again; but I hope soon to slip away,
and to get strength, and then to hunt for precious souls again.
How gladly would I bid adieu to ceiled houses, and vaulted
roofs! Mounts are the best pulpits, and the heavens the best
sounding-boards. O for power equal to my will! I would fly from
pole to pole, publishing the everlasting gospel of the Son of
God. I write this at a house built for dear Mr. Adams.[491] From
his window is a prospect perhaps of thirty miles. I have wished
you here with your telescope. But if the footstool is so
glorious, what must the throne be!”

“London, May 28, 1762. I am just now come to town for a few days,
sensibly better for my country excursion. Once more, I have had
the honour of taking the field, and have now some hopes of not
being as yet quite thrown aside as a broken vessel. Help me to
praise Him, whose mercy endureth for ever.”

In the month of June, Whitefield sailed to Holland, where his health was further benefited. At the end of July, he was preaching at Norwich, and wrote:――

“Norwich, July 31, 1762. The trip to Holland, last month, was
profitable to myself, and, I trust, to others. If my usefulness
is to be continued in London, I must be prepared for it by a
longer itinerancy both by land and water. At present, blessed
be God! I can preach once a day; and it would do your heart good
to see what an influence attends the word. All my old times are
revived again. On Monday next, God willing, I shall set forwards
to Lincolnshire, Yorkshire, etc.”

Ten days after this, Whitefield attended the annual Conference of Wesley and his itinerants, in the town of Leeds. This was a notable assembly, for, besides the brave band of Wesley’s helpers, there were present the two Wesleys, Whitefield, Romaine, Madan, Venn, and, last but not least, the Countess of Huntingdon![492] Wesley wrote:――

“We had great reason to praise God for His gracious presence,
from the beginning to the end.”

From Leeds, Whitefield proceeded to his beloved Scotland, where he wrote:――

“Edinburgh, September 2, 1762. I am just this moment returned
from Glasgow, where I have been enabled to preach every day,
and twice at Cambuslang. Auditories were large, and Jesus smiled
upon my feeble labours.”

“Edinburgh, September 9. I came here a week ago. Since then, I
have been helped to preach every day. The kirk has been a Bethel.
Grace! Grace! On Monday, the 13th inst., I shall set off. Follow
me with your prayers.”

On Sunday, September 19, Whitefield was at Sunderland;[493] and on the following Sunday at Leeds. Here he wrote to his friend, Mr. Robert Keen, as follows:――

“I am just now setting forwards towards London, but fear I
cannot reach it before Sunday. My chaise wanted repairing here.
O how good hath Jesus been to a worthless worm! Once a day
preaching, I can bear well; more hurts me. What shall I do with
the Chapel and Tabernacle? Lord Jesus, be thou my guide and
helper! He will! He will! Send word to the Tabernacle that you
have heard from me. We have had sweet seasons.”

The “Seven Years’ War” was now nearly ended. The campaign of 1762 was eminently successful. Frederick the Great and Prince Ferdinand had been victorious in Germany; Burgoyne had aided Portugal in repelling the Spaniards; and the English fleet and army in the West Indies had taken the Carribbean Islands and Havannah. Lord Bute, the prime minister of England, strongly desired peace, for the English people were complaining loudly of increased taxation. He engaged the neutral king of Sardinia to propose to the court of France negotiations for a termination of the war. Louis XV., like a drowning man, caught at the proposal. The Duke of Bedford was selected as plenipotentiary and ambassador extraordinary to Paris; and the high-born and gallant Duke de Nivernois came to London in the same capacity. This was in September; and the negotiations proceeded with such rapidity, that _preliminaries_ for peace were signed at Fontainebleau on the 3rd of November following.

In consequence of these events, Whitefield now had a prospect of carrying out his long-cherished wish to visit his Orphan House, and his numerous friends, across the Atlantic. He wrote, as follows, to the housekeeper of his Orphanage:――

“London, October 15, 1762. I wish to answer your letter in
person. I hope the time is now drawing near. I count the weeks,
and days, and hours. Blessed be God that you live in such
harmony! A house thus united in Jesus will stand. I write this
in great haste. I am enabled to preach once a day. Give thanks!
give thanks!”

In November, Whitefield went to Bristol, where his “congregations were large, and a most gracious gale of Divine influence attended the word preached.” Having promised to visit Plymouth, he wrote to his friend there, the good Andrew Kinsman:――

“Let grand preparations be made,――as a candle, a book, and a
table; above all, much prayer, that I may not again relapse at
Plymouth, as the Bristol people say I shall do, by coming at
this season of the year.”

On reaching Plymouth, he wrote:――

“Plymouth, December 4, 1762. Being under a positive promise to
come here before I left England, I embraced this opportunity.
Through mercy, I preached last night, and find no hurt this
morning. Many young people, I hear, are under great awakenings.
O to begin to wage an eternal war with the devil, the world, and
the flesh! I would fain die sword in hand.”

Whitefield had an old trusty servant, Mrs. Elizabeth Wood,[494] to whom he wrote as follows:――

“Plymouth, December 5, 1762. You did very wrong, in not letting
me know of your mother’s necessities. She was a widow indeed;
but now she is above the reach of everything. I am weary of the
world, of the Church, and of myself. I cannot get up to London
till near Christmas Day. As affairs are there circumstanced,
everything there tends to weigh me down. O that patience may
have its perfect work! Let me always know your wants. It is your
own fault if you lack anything, whilst I have a farthing.”

Kind-heartedness was a prominent trait in Whitefield’s character. It was during this, or some other visit to Plymouth, that an incident occurred which is worth telling. “Come,” said Whitefield to his friend and host, Andrew Kinsman, “come, let us go to some of the poor and afflicted of your flock. It is not enough that we labour in the pulpit; we must endeavour to be useful out of it.” Away the two friends went, and Whitefield not only gave counsel to those they visited, but monetary aid. Kinsman reminded him that his finances were low, and that he was more bountiful than he could afford. “Young man,” replied Whitefield, “it is not enough to pray, and to put on a serious countenance: ‘pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction,’ and to administer to their wants. My stock, I grant, is nearly exhausted, but God will soon send me a fresh supply.” In the evening, a gentleman called, and asked to see Whitefield. “Sir,” said he, “I heard you preach yesterday: you are on a journey, as well as myself; and, as travelling is expensive, will you do me the honour of accepting this?” The present was five guineas, and came from a man noted for his penuriousness. “Young man,” cried Whitefield, on his return to Kinsman, “young man, God has soon repaid what I bestowed. Learn, in future, not to withhold when it is in the power of your hand to give.”[495]

Whitefield, on his way to London, halted at Bristol, and wrote to Kinsman, as follows:――

“Bristol, December 12, 1762. We got here yesterday, all well,
excepting that I lost my watch in the way. If it teach me to be
more on my _watch_ in the best things, the loss will be a gain.
Lord, help me in everything to give thanks! I do not repent my
Plymouth journey. Thanks to you all for your great kindnesses.
Thanks, eternal thanks, to the God of all, for giving us His
presence! It is better than life. I have not yet seen your
daughter; but I hear she is well. Tell Sarah not to murder so
dear a child. Hugging to death is cruelty indeed. Adieu! I must
away to sacrament. O for such a one as we had last Sunday! Mind
and get up in a morning to pray, before you get into shop.”

Whitefield wished to embark for America; but, before doing so, had a difficulty to encounter. He had erected two large and flourishing chapels in London, which, in consequence of the sites on which they stood being granted to himself on lease, were practically his own property. The money by which the chapels had been built was not his; and he felt that it would be unjust if, by his decease, they came into the possession of his heirs and successors. Hence, as he was hoping soon to sail, and as his health was such as to render his return to England a doubtful matter, he was anxious to have the Tabernacle and the Tottenham Court Road chapel so settled, that the purpose for which they had been erected might never be frustrated. Hence the following to Mr. Robert Keen:――

“_January 15, 1763._