Chapter XXVI: Part 26

The “lady” referred to in this letter was the Countess of Huntingdon; but there is not the slightest proof of the accusation brought against her.[603] It might contain a modicum of truth; but the base part of the allegation was false and slanderous. The names of the undergraduates were Benjamin Kay, James Matthews, Thomas Jones, Thomas Grove, Erasmus Middleton, and Joseph Shipman. This is not the place to relate the history of the six expelled students; but, it may be added, that, Mr. Kay was of respectable family, and an excellent scholar. Mr. Matthews, who was charged with having been instructed by Fletcher, of Madeley, with being the associate of known Methodists, and with attending illicit conventicles, was afterwards received into Lady Huntingdon’s Academy at Trevecca. Thomas Jones was the periwig-maker, but, for some time, had resided with John Newton, curate of Olney, under whose instruction he had acquired a knowledge of the Greek and Hebrew Scriptures. Besides the crime of being brought up to the trade of a hair-dresser, he was accused of praying, singing hymns, and expounding the Scriptures in private houses. After his expulsion, he was ordained, became curate of Clifton, near Birmingham, and married the sister of the poet Cowper’s friend, the Lady Austin. Mr. Grove confessed to the Archbishop of Canterbury that he had been led into irregularities; the Chancellor consented to his re-admission; but the Vice-Chancellor refused; and the future history of the submissive undergraduate is unknown. Mr. Middleton was ordained in Ireland by the Bishop of Down; became curate of Romaine and Cadogan; wrote his _Biographia Evangelica_; and finally was presented to the rectory of Turvey, in the county of Bedford. Mr. Shipman, after his expulsion, was admitted to the Academy of the Countess of Huntingdon at Trevecca. His ministry was soon ended; but, at Plymouth, Bristol, Rodborough, and Haverfordwest, his preaching was singularly useful. He died October 31, 1771.

The tutor, who preferred the charges against the Methodist students, was Mr. Higson, who was not always _compos mentis_, and had been treated as insane. The Vice-Chancellor was the Rev. Dr. Durell, who was the determined enemy of the accused. Their friend, the Rev. Dr. Dixon, was the principal of their college. Their judges were Drs. Durell, Randolph, Fothergill, Nowell, and Atterbury. The expulsion took place on March 11, 1768.[604]

The event, as might be expected, created a national sensation. A large number of persons warmly approved of the sentence of the judicial junta; among whom was the famous Dr. Johnson. “Sir,” said Johnson to his friend Boswell, “the expulsion was extremely just and proper. What have they to do at a University, who are not willing to be taught, but will presume to teach? Where is religion to be learnt but at a University? Sir, they were examined, and found to be mighty ignorant fellows.” Boswell: “But was it not hard, sir, to expel them, for I am told they were good beings?” Johnson: “I believe they might be good beings, but they were not fit to be in the University of Oxford. A cow is a very good animal in the field, but we turn her out of a garden.”[605] Johnson’s similitude was more forcible than appropriate; but, even admitting that, in a literary point of view, the expelled were not fit for the University, it may be asked, who were responsible for their admission? Really, their only crimes were, that some of them had been ignobly bred, and all of them had sung, and prayed, and read the Scriptures in private houses. In this respect, they were not alone. Dr. Stillingfleet, Fellow of Merton College, and afterwards Prebendary of Worcester; Mr. Foster, of Queen’s College; Mr. Pugh, of Hertford College; Mr. Gordon, of Magdalen; Mr. Clark, of St. John’s; and Mr. Halward, of Worcester College, had done just the same; but these were gentlemen whom it would have been somewhat perilous to treat with the same collegiate tyranny that was exercised towards the humble undergraduates who were ignominiously expelled.

The latter, however, were not without friends. Rowland Hill and his Methodist associates, Pentycross, Simpson, Robinson, and others, at Cambridge, were in intimate communion with them; and Rowland Hill’s brother, afterwards Sir Richard Hill, became their principal defender. He published his “Pietas Oxoniensis.” (8vo. 85 pp.); which was answered by Dr. Nowell, principal of St. Mary’s Hall. Other pamphlets, _pro et con_, were issued, too numerous to be mentioned here; but Whitefield’s must have attention. It was the last he published, and was entitled, “A Letter to the Reverend Dr. Durell, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford; occasioned by a late Expulsion of Six Students from Edmund Hall. By George Whitefield, M.A., late of Pembroke College, Oxford; and Chaplain to the Countess of Huntingdon.” (8vo., 50 pp.) The “Letter” was dated, “London, April 12, 1768,” and was one of Whitefield’s most spirited productions. In reply to “one article of impeachment, namely, that some of” the six expelled students “were of trades before they entered the University,” he reminded the Vice-Chancellor that there was no “evil or crime worthy of expulsion” in this, for “God took David from the sheep-fold;” “David’s Lord had for his reputed father a carpenter, and, in all probability, worked at the trade of a carpenter Himself;” He “chose poor fishermen to be His apostles;” and St. Paul “laboured with his own hands, and worked at the trade of a tent-maker.”

In reference to the charge of using extempore prayer, Whitefield argued, that, though the “English liturgy is one of the most excellent forms of public prayer in the world,” yet no form “can possibly suit every particular case.” Besides, said he, “what great sinners must they have been, who prayed, in an extempore way, before any forms of prayer existed? The prayers we read of in Scripture,――the prayers which opened and shut heaven, the effectual, fervent, energetic prayers of those righteous and holy men of old, which availed so much with God, were all of an extempore nature. And I am apt to believe, if, not only our students and ministers, but private Christians, were born from above, and taught of God, as those wrestlers with God were, they would want forms of prayer no more than they did.”[606] “The crime of using extempore prayer is not so much as mentioned in any of our law books; and, therefore, a crime for which, it is to be hoped, no student will hereafter be summoned to appear at the bar of any of the reverend doctors of divinity, or heads of houses in the University of Oxford.” “It is also to be hoped that as some have been expelled for extempore praying, we shall hear of some being expelled for extempore swearing.”

One extract must suffice respecting the charge of “singing hymns”:――

“Were the sons of the prophets more frequently to entertain
themselves thus, it would be as suitable to the ministerial
character as tripping up their heels, skipping and dancing at
the music of a ball-room, or playing a first fiddle at a concert.
The voice of spiritual melody would be as much to the honour of
the University as the more frequent noise of box and dice, at
the unlawful games of hazard and back-gammon.”

On the subject of “giving private exhortations,” Whitefield aptly observed:――

“Our all-wise Master sent His disciples on short excursions,
before He gave them the more extensive commission to go into
all the world; and were our students in general, under proper
limitations, to be thus exercised, they would not turn out to be
such mere novices, as too many raw creatures do when they make
their first appearance in the pulpit. I remember, above thirty
years ago, some young students had been visiting the sick and
imprisoned, and had been giving a word of exhortation in a
private house; and, upon meeting the minister of the parish on
their return to college, they frankly told him what they had
been doing; when he turned to them, and said, ‘God bless you! I
wish we had more such young curates;’――a more Christian sentence
this, than that of a late expulsion for the very same supposed
crimes and misdemeanours.”

Whitefield proceeded to remind Dr. Durell of the effort which was being made to establish the episcopacy in the American colonies, and of the opposition of the colonists to the scheme, and then added:――

“That persons of all ranks, from Quebec down to the two Floridas,
are at this time more than prejudiced against it, is notorious;
but how will the thought of the introduction of lord bishops
make them shudder, if their lordships should think proper to
countenance the expulsion of religious students, whilst those
who have no religion at all meet with approbation and applause.”

Turning to the general subject of Methodism, Whitefield continued:――

“It is notorious that the grand cause of these young men’s
expulsion was, that they were either real or reputed Methodists.
Scarce any now-a-days can pray extempore, sing hymns, go to
church or meeting, and abound in other acts of devotion, but
they must be immediately dubbed Methodists.”

And then, in reference to the first Oxford Methodists, he added:――

“If worldly church preferments had been their aim, some of
them, at least, might have had ladders enough to climb up by;
but having received a kind of apostolical commission at their
ordination, they would fain keep up the dignity of an apostolic
character; and, therefore, without ever so much as designing
to enter into any political cabals, or civil or church factions,
without turning to the right hand or the left, or troubling the
world with a single sermon or pamphlet on the bare externals of
religion, they have endeavoured to have but one thing in view,
namely, to think of nothing, to know nothing, and to preach of
nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified; to spend and be
spent for the good of souls, and to glory in nothing saving in
the cross of Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto them
and they unto the world.”

Such was Whitefield’s last description of the first Methodist preachers. May this be the character of all their successors to the end of time!

Of course, Whitefield’s “Letter” to Dr. Durell evoked replies; but only one of these can be noticed here. It was entitled, “Remarks upon the Rev. Mr. Whitefield’s Letter to the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford; in a Letter to the Rev. Mr. Whitefield. By a late Member of the University of Oxford. Oxford, 1768.” (8vo., 62 pp.) Two or three extracts from this angry and abusive production must be given. In reference to Whitefield himself, the author says:――

“I address you without any hope of reforming you, for, it would
be absurd in me to prove a person insane, and, at the same
time, attempt to convince him of that insanity. That would be
supposing him in his senses in order to satisfy him that he is
out of them. My design is to deal with you as magistrates do
with an offender, whom they despair of bringing to any good.
They animadvert upon him for the good of others, and, by open
punishment, aim at suppressing the influence which his advice
or example may have had upon his acquaintance.

“Your sermons are off-hand harangues,――mere enthusiastic
rant,――a wild rhapsody of nonsense,――the foam of an over-heated
imagination,――like old wives’ fables, or profane and
vain babblings,――proceeding from a spirit of pride and
ignorance. Such teachers as yourself, are blind leaders of the
blind,――jack-o’-lanthorn meteors, or _ignes fatui_, drawing
the mazed follower through briars and bogs, till he is plunged
into inextricable ruin. But, however absurd and ridiculous
your sermons――the _spuings_ of the heart upon the people, in
unconcocted sentences――they are tolerable in comparison of your
extempore prayers to the Deity.”

This was hardly polite to come from “a late member of the University of Oxford;” but let it pass, and listen to what the accomplished author says of the six expelled students:――

“These low mechanics were moved with the spirit of pride and
ignorance, and had no other calls but of vanity, idleness, and
hunger; and, I make no doubt, had their attempt to creep through
some privy holes, or to climb over the fences into the ministry
been crowned with success, they would have scorned the dust from
whence they sprung, and, spurred on with the turbulent spirit
of ambition, would never have ceased clambering after the higher
places, and would even have been dissatisfied, though they
reached the highest round of the ecclesiastical ladder.”

One sentence more from this elegant publication:――

“If a large stock of pride, with the profoundest ignorance,
and a brow harder than adamant, be sufficient to set up a
Methodistical spouter, what occasion is there to send him to
the University?”

In order to get rid of a subject so unpleasant, it may be added here, that, besides this, there were several other pamphlets published against Whitefield and the Methodists during the year 1768. For instance, there was “The Troublers of Israel, in which the Principles of those who turn the World upside down are displayed. With a Preface to the Rev. Dr. ――――. To which is prefixed a short introductory Description of Modern Enthusiasts.” (4to.) A kind of opera, exceedingly incoherent, and profanely foolish. 2. “Sermons to Asses” (12mo., 212 pp.), dedicated to Whitefield, Wesley, Romaine, and Madan,――chiefly a political publication, with a fling at the Methodists. 3. “Enthusiasm Detected and Defeated. By Samuel Roe, A.M., Vicar of Stotfold, in Bedfordshire.” (8vo., 319 pp.) Principally an attack on Wesley, but not altogether exempting Whitefield. “I humbly propose to the legislative powers,” said the Rev. Samuel Roe, “to make an example of Tabernacle preachers, by enacting a law to _cut out their tongues_, who have been the incorrigible authors of so many mischiefs and distractions throughout the English dominions. And, by the said authority, to _cut out the tongues_ of all field-teachers, and preachers in houses, barns, or elsewhere, without apostolical ordination and legal authority, being approved and licensed to enter upon that most sacred trust.” 4. “The Hypocrite: a Comedy. As it is performed at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane” (8vo.),――in which a Tabernacle enthusiast occupied a prominent position.

Then, in 1769, before Whitefield sailed for America, there were published: 1. “Methodism, a Popish Idol; or the Danger and Harmony of Enthusiasm and Separation. By Booth Braithwaite.” (8vo.) “A raving pamphlet,” said the _Monthly Review_, “against sectaries, with abundant zeal, little knowledge, and less charity.” 2. “A Letter to a Young Gentleman at Oxford, intended for Holy Orders” (8vo.),――in ardent language warning the “young gentleman” against Confessionalists, Monthly Reviewers, Blasphemers, Reprobates, and Methodists. 3. “The Pretences of Enthusiasts Considered and Confuted; a Sermon preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary’s, June 26, 1768. By William Hawkins, M.A., Prebendary of Wells. Published by desire.” (8vo., 27 pp.) Mr. Hawkins confesses that he has “little hope of converting spiritual dishonesty, or convincing religious infatuation;” but he insists that “all pretences of illiterate laymen, and ignorant mechanics, _to expound the way of God more perfectly_, in consequence of supernatural inspiration and spiritual illumination, are plainly to be resolved into the artifice of imposture, or the insanity of enthusiasm.”

On the other hand, there was published a curious and well-executed engraving, of folio size, entitled, “The Tree of Life: likewise a View of the New Jerusalem, and this present Evil World; with the Industry of Gospel Ministers in endeavouring to pluck sinners from the wrath to come.” The copy before me is the only one I have ever seen, or heard of; and, therefore, a brief description of it may be welcome. The “Tree of Life” is large and fantastic. Its roots are entitled, “Glorious,” “Gracious,” “Holy,” “Just,” “Wise,” “Almighty,” and “Omnipresent.” On its stem and two lowest branches is a representation of the crucified Saviour. Its twelve fruits are “Everlasting Love,” “Election,” “Pardon,” “Righteousness,” “Refuge,” “Security,” “Peace,” “Sanctification,” “Promises,” “Good-will,” “Perseverance,” and “Eternal Redemption.” Its foliage is inscribed with the words, “Circumcision,” “Baptism,” “Fasting,” “Temptation,” “Victory,” “Poverty,” “Obedience,” “Shame,” “Reproach,” “Imprisonment,” “Stripes,” “Buffeting,” “Death,” and “Resurrection.” “The New Jerusalem” is resplendent with the divine glory, and is surrounded with lovely scenery. “The present Evil World,” at the bottom of the picture, contains a large number of male and female figures, some of them in “the Broad Way,” others indulging in “the Pride of Life,” and others in “Chambering and Wantonness.” In the right hand corner is the “Bottomless Pit,” with sundry demons, and ablaze with fire; while, at its mouth, sits “Babylon, Mother of Harlots,” with a large goblet in her hand; and out of the pit an avaricious-looking wretch is endeavouring to escape, for the purpose of clutching his money bags, which are inscribed with the word “Extortion,” but a grinning fiend has seized him by the long flowing hair of his head, and prevents him going farther. In the midst of one crowd, Wesley is preaching, and represented as crying, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.” In another crowd, _close_ to the “Bottomless Pit,” stands Whitefield, the likeness excellent, and bearing a strong resemblance to the portrait in the present volume. The multitude around him evince great excitement. One man, on his right hand, cries, “What shall I do to be saved?” Another, on his left, whose coat-tail a demon grasps, exclaims, “Save, Lord, or I perish.” And Whitefield, in the midst, dressed in full canonicals, and with hands uplifted, shouts, “Behold the Lamb.” The whole thing is ludicrous; but it was friendly, and, no doubt, was published in favour of Whitefield and his fellow-labourer. Whether it was calculated to answer the artist’s purpose is another question. Sometimes man has need to pray, “Save me from my friends!”

To return to Whitefield’s history. Little is known of his proceedings during the first four months of 1768. The interval seems to have been spent in London, and, doubtless, was well employed in preaching and other religious duties. On Wednesday, March 23, he had to perform a painful duty, to which he had been long accustomed. James Gibson, attorney-at-law, had been found guilty of the crime of forgery, and had been sentenced to suffer death. On the morning of the culprit’s execution, Whitefield attended him in Newgate prison, prayed with him, and administered to him the holy sacrament. Gibson, a good-looking man of about forty-five years of age, professed to rely on the merits of his Saviour; and, in a mourning coach, dressed in black, and wearing a ruffled shirt, was driven to Tyburn, where his behaviour was devout and manly, and his sentence was executed.[607]

At Whitsuntide, Whitefield visited Tunbridge Wells, Lewes, and Brighton. At the first of these places, Lady Huntingdon had procured a permanent residence, on Mount Ephraim; and Whitefield preached twice in the open air. “Very many,” says her ladyship, “were cut to the heart. Sinners trembled exceedingly before the Lord, and a universal impression seemed to abide upon the multitude. Truly God was in the midst of us to wound and to heal.”[608]

The following letter, addressed to Whitefield by Rowland Hill, refers to this visit to Tunbridge Wells, but is chiefly valuable as containing a sketch of the proceedings of the Methodist students at Cambridge, and as exhibiting some of the peculiarities of young Rowland’s character:――

“CAMBRIDGE, _May 12, 1768_.

“REV. AND VERY DEAR SIR,――I am glad to hear we are to expect a
smaller edition of your valuable ‘Letter.’[609] I doubt not but
it will be of further utility. It has been read much in this
place. That and the _Shaver_[610] have been sent for to all the
coffee-houses in this University; so that, no doubt, all our
heads have seen all that has been written. But if you think it
any advantage to send each of our heads a separate copy, I will
contrive my best to get it done.

“God be praised for what is doing by the endeavours of dear Lady
Huntingdon at Tunbridge Wells! How wonderfully is she carried
from one place of dissipation to another! How glorious is her
continued progress!

“Blessed be God! we are not without being steeped more than ever
in shame in this place; or, as the old proverb goes, we have
eaten shame and drank after it, and I trust it digests well.
Though we always endeavour to keep clear of a mob, in letting
no more know than our different houses will hold, yet, in spite
of all that can be done, more or less of the gown constantly
attend. The Lord, through much grace, generally keeping me clear
of the fear of man, gives me some little strength to tell you all
about it; and, as I find burs generally stick faster to people’s
clothes than roses, I am sometimes apt to deal in that rough
ware. They have hitherto always stood, like poor brow-beaten
things, with much attention till we have done, when they
generally get together to compare notes, which they afterwards
retail among others of the University, drest up in a droll
fashion, well embellished, with the addition of many ludicrous
lies.

“This makes all, as I pass the streets, stop to wonder at me,
as a strange oddity; but, as I am more than ever convinced
that the only way God ever will carry on His work, is by the
manifestation of His own almighty power, without any of our
assisting influence or trimming, I find the only way to meet
with a blessing is to be honest and open in telling them the
simple truth, and leaving God to bless it. This, I trust, has,
in some measure, been the case at Cambridge. Four of the many
gownsmen, that have been at times my hearers of late, have never
missed an opportunity of attending, and have been at much pains
to enquire the time and place of our meeting. After hearing,
they wish me a good eve; and, when absent, speak respectfully
of the word. Many others, too, having been convinced in their
judgments, approve of its being right; while others, filled with
the hottest madness, dress me up as a fool, and cudgel me as a
knave.

“The other night, the mob of the gown, which raised a second
of the town, ran so high at the house where we had a meeting,
that the constable, who is a friend, was forced to attend,
that no riot might ensue; but, as I thought to be attended with
constables was yet too high an honour for such a poor beginner,
I hope it was nothing more than what Christian prudence would
advise, to be more private the next time, and be contented
with a house full, attended only with a few gownsmen by way
of bringing up the rear.

“As for our Doctors, ’tis remarkable how very patiently they
bear with my conduct, as they now know that as I have but
a little while to stay, an expulsion from Cambridge would
hardly answer. They seem now to have come to the following
compromise――that I am to continue to be possessor of my
_professorship_, and to be still bishop over all their parishes,
provided I will be contented with houses or barns, and leave
them alone with quiet possession of their streets, fields,
and churches, and, by and by, they will be glad to sign my
_testimonium_, in order to get rid of me. Thus, in the end,
I hope, through grace, I shall be enabled to make good what
I promised to one, who asked me, when we enthusiasts intended
to stop. My answer was, ‘Not at all, till such time as we have
carried all before us.’

“I am in the greatest hope that the Lord will soon give dear
―――― a heart to help me. He is a steady, warm, lively Christian,
and grows prodigiously, and bids by far the fairest for the
predicted phœnix of any that are in this place.

“Do continue to be earnest in prayer to God for us. I want much
humbling. Spiritual pride, at present, is my grand temptation.

“Having not any spare time, I am forced to write thus in haste,
and conclude with subscribing myself your poorest son and
servant for Christ’s sake,

“ROWLAND HILL.”[611]

The foregoing letter is valuable for its facts, if for nothing else. Rowland Hill was evincing courage hardly inferior to that of the first Oxford Methodists. Without courting persecution, he was not afraid of it. To be laughed at was not pleasant, but it was not heeded. Rowland was no longer threatened with expulsion; but he was made the object of collegiate ridicule. Eight months after this, he proceeded to his B.A. degree, and his name appeared in the list of honours.

There can be no doubt that one of the best ways to propagate any new creed or system is to implant it in the national Universities. Whether designedly or otherwise, Methodism had thus been rooted at both Oxford and Cambridge. The Heads of Houses at Oxford did their utmost to destroy it. Those at Cambridge were not so ruthless. Why? Was it because the expelled at Oxford were of low degree? and because the Cambridge leader, Rowland Hill, was the son of an English baronet? Perhaps it was.

Whitefield was generally jubilant. His path was often rough and difficult, but he pursued it singing. The following was addressed to Captain Joss:――

“LONDON, _May 17, 1768_.

“MY DEAR MAN,――Go forward! go forward! is the watchword of
the present day. Never mind the envious cry of elder brethren.
Had they been hearkened to, the Prodigal must never have come
home, nor Goliath’s head have been cut off. All temple-builders,
especially when called to work in the field, must endure, not
only the contradiction of sinners, but, the contradiction of
saints. Happy are they who are so deeply engaged in building as
not to have time to hearken to either. I long to come and lend
a helping, though feeble hand. But Welsh horses move slowly. If
the Welsh apostle comes, I purpose, in the Whitsun week, to make
a short excursion into Sussex and Kent, and then for Bristol.

“Blessed be God! the shout of a King is heard in our camps. Let
us march forward, with palms of victory in our hands, crying,
‘Hallelujah! The Lord God omnipotent reigneth!’”

A month after the date of this letter Whitefield was in Edinburgh; but how he went, and why he went, no one seems to know. His popularity, however, in the northern metropolis, was as great as ever. Hence he writes:――

“EDINBURGH, _June 15, 1768_.

(TO MR. KEEN) “You would be delighted to see our Orphan
House Park assemblies; as large and attentive as ever.
Twenty-seven-year-old friends and spiritual children remember
the days of old. They are seeking after their first love, and
there seems to be a stirring among the dry bones. I cannot tell
you when I shall move. Probably within a fortnight.”

“EDINBURGH, _July 2, 1768_.

(TO MR. ANDREW KINSMAN) “My dear Timothy, I am much obliged to
you for your staying in London, till I return from Scotland. My
journey hither was certainly of God. Could I preach ten times a
day, thousands and thousands would attend. I have been confined
for a few days, but, on Monday or Tuesday next, hope to mount my
throne again. O to die there! Too great, too great an honour to
be expected! I thank my wife for her kind letter just received.
I am here only in danger of being hugged to death. Friends of
all ranks seem heartier and more friendly than ever. All is
of Grace! Grace! I go on in my old way, without turning to the
right hand or to the left. Providence says every day, ‘This is
the way; walk in it.’ Tender love to all, particularly to my
dear wife. Next post she may expect to hear from me.”

“EDINBURGH, _July 9, 1768_.

(TO MR. KEEN) “God be praised that all is so well in London.
Everything goes on better and better here; but I am so worn down
by preaching abroad, and by talking at home almost all the day
long, that I have determined to set off for London next Tuesday.
As you do not mention my wife, I suppose she is out of town.”

Exactly a month after this, Whitefield’s wife was dead. On his return to London, she was attacked with fever, and died on August 9. Five days afterwards, he preached her funeral sermon;[612] and, noticing her fortitude, remarked,――“Do you remember my preaching in those fields by the old stump of a tree? The multitude was great, and many were disposed to be riotous. At first, I addressed them firmly; but when a desperate gang drew near, with the most ferocious and horrid imprecations and menaces, my courage began to fail. My wife was then standing behind me, as I stood on the table. I think I hear her now. She pulled my gown, and, looking up, said, ‘George, play the man for your God.’ My confidence returned. I spoke to the multitude with boldness and affection. They became still, and many were deeply affected.”[613] A monument to the memory of Whitefield’s wife was put up in Tottenham Court Road chapel, with the following inscription:[614]――

“To the memory of Mrs. Whitefield, who, after thirty years’
strong and frequent manifestations of her Redeemer’s love, mixed
with strong and frequent strugglings against the buffetings of
Satan, and many sicknesses and indwellings of sin, was joyfully
released, August 9, 1769.”[615]

Whitefield submitted to his bereavement with Christian resignation. Two days after he preached his wife’s funeral sermon, he wrote, in a letter to Captain Joss:――“Let us work whilst it is day. The late unexpected breach is a fresh proof that the night soon cometh, when no man can work. Pray, where may I find that grand promise made to Abraham after Sarah’s death? May it be fulfilled in you, whilst your Sarah is yet alive! Sweet bereavements, when God Himself fills up the chasm! Through mercy I find it so. Adieu.”

On Wednesday, August 24, Whitefield opened the College of the Countess of Huntingdon at Trevecca, by preaching from the words: “In all places where I record My name, I will come unto thee, and bless thee.” The next day, he gave an exhortation to the students, from: “He shall be great in the sight of the Lord.” And, on Sunday, August 28, preached in the court before the College, to a congregation of thousands, from: “Other foundation can no man lay, than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”[616]

He then hurried back to London, where he arrived on September 1. His health was broken, and he was again an invalid. In a letter, dated September 6, he wrote to a sick and suffering friend:――

“Why should not one invalid write to another? What if we should
meet in our way to heaven unembodied,――freed from everything
that at present weighs down our precious and immortal souls? For
these two days past I have been almost unable to write: to-day,
I am, what they call better.”

Immediately after this, he ruptured a blood-vessel; and, on September 12, remarked:――

“I have been in hopes of my departure. Through hard riding,
and frequent preaching, I have burst a vein. The flux is, in
a great measure, stopped; but rest and quietness are strictly
enjoined.”[617]

Rashly enough, Whitefield re-commenced preaching before the month was ended. One of his friends, Mr. Middleton, died a triumphant death, and Whitefield must preach a funeral sermon. His text was, “I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.” The word “chosen” gave him an opportunity to dwell upon the doctrine of election. “I know no other doctrine,” said he, “that can truly humble man; for either God must choose us, or we must choose God.” As usual, his sermon was interspersed with anecdotes, one of which may be given here. “A noble lady,” said Whitefield, “told me herself, that when she was crying on account of one of her children’s death, her little daughter came to her and said, ‘Mamma, is God Almighty dead, you cry so?’ The lady replied, ‘No.’ ‘Mamma, will you lend me your glove?’ said the child. The mother let her take it; and, in due time, asked for it again. ‘Mamma!’ remarked the child, ‘shall I cry because you have taken back your glove? And shall you cry because God has taken back my sister?’”[618] A reference is made to the death and burial of Mr. Middleton in the following extract from a letter:――

“London, September 26, 1768. For some days, the flux of blood
has stopped entirely. Praise the Lord, O my soul! Mr. Middleton
is now made perfectly whole. He was buried from the Tabernacle
last Wednesday evening, and a subscription is opened for his
four orphans.”

“Where is Mr. Middleton now?” cried Whitefield in the sermon just mentioned. “Where is my dear fellow-labourer, that honest, that steady man of God? If in the midst of torture, he could answer his daughter and say, ‘Heaven upon earth! heaven upon earth!’ surely now that he sees God, and sees Christ, he must cry, ‘Heaven in heaven!’”

A few weeks after this, Whitefield set out for Bath and Bristol; and began to have a longing to go to his orphans at Bethesda. He writes:――

“Bristol, November 12, 1768. Bethesda lies upon my heart night
and day. Something must be determined speedily. As, I trust, my
eye is single, God will assuredly direct my goings. Hitherto, He
has helped. He will do so to the end. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

By the end of November, he was back to London, and wrote:――

“November 30, 1768. Many thought I should not hold out from Bath
to London; but I cannot as yet go to Him whom my soul loveth.
Last Sunday, I creeped up to my gospel-throne; this evening,
the same honour is to be conferred upon me. Mr. Wright is going
with his brothers to Georgia to finish the wings of the intended
College, and repair the present buildings.”

Whitefield’s weakness continued; but he preached as often as he was able. “I love the open bracing air;” said he, on December 14; “preaching within doors, and especially to crowded auditories, is apt to make us nervous.”

In another letter, dated “December 15,” he remarked:――

“You cannot tell how low my late excursion to Bath and Bristol
brought me. I would leave future events to God, and, like you
merchants, would improve the present _now_. Time is short;
eternity is endless. I have considered the affair of the picture.
What think you? A limner, who lately drew me, and hung the
picture in the Exhibition, asks forty guineas for a copy.[619] I
shall not mind him, but send a bust taken several years ago. It
shall be presented as a token of my hearty, hearty love to the
Orphan House at Edinburgh, and its never-to-be-forgotten friends.”

The first three months of the year 1769 were spent in London. Whitefield was extremely feeble. Wesley wrote:――

“1769. Monday, January 9. I spent a comfortable and profitable
hour with Mr. Whitefield, in calling to mind the former times,
and the manner wherein God prepared us for a work which it had
not then entered into our hearts to conceive.”

And again:――

“Monday, February 27. I had one more agreeable conversation with
my old friend and fellow-labourer, George Whitefield. His soul
appeared to be vigorous still, but his body was sinking apace;
and, unless God interposes with His mighty hand, he must soon
finish his labours.”[620]

Comparatively speaking, these three months were a time of inaction; and yet, to Whitefield and others, they were a time of great enjoyment. Lady Huntingdon was now in London, and, at her residence in Portland Row, Cavendish Square, there were delightful re-unions of Methodist clergymen. Whitefield, the two Wesleys, Romaine, Venn, and others, were often assembled there, for preaching, sacramental administration, and Christian fellowship. On the 10th of January, Whitefield administered the sacrament, and Wesley preached on, “By grace are ye saved, through faith.” A week afterwards, Romaine administered the Lord’s Supper, and Whitefield preached. On February 28, Whitefield was present, but wholly unable to take any active part in the services of the day. The Rev. Messrs. Green and Elliott administered the sacrament and Romaine preached. Sometimes Venn administered, and at others preached. When he was able, Whitefield would preach in her ladyship’s drawing-room on several days successively. At the last meeting, previous to the Countess leaving London, Charles Wesley exhorted all present to “stand fast in one mind and in one judgment;” Romaine administered the Lord’s Supper; Venn and Whitefield prayed; and all sang the glorious doxology, “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.”[621]

By the month of March, Whitefield’s health was considerably improved. In letters, addressed to his old friend, Thomas Adams, he wrote:――

“London, March 11, 1769. My very dear Tommy. Through infinite
mercy, I am enabled to preach thrice a week, besides engaging
in other occasional exercises. The shout of the King of kings
is amongst us. After Easter, I hope to make an elopement to
Gloucestershire, and some western parts. I feel the loss of my
right hand[622] daily; but right hands and right eyes must be
parted with for Him, who ordereth all things well.”

“London, March 31, 1769. Through infinite mercy, I have been
enabled to preach four days successively. We have been favoured
with a blessed Passover season: all to make us shout louder,
‘Grace! Grace!’”

Whitefield still longed to get away to his beloved Bethesda. On March 17, he wrote to Mr. Dixon, his manager there:――“I am every day, every hour, almost every moment, thinking of, and preparing for America. A pilgrim life to me is the sweetest on this side eternity.” No wonder that Whitefield wished to be at his Orphan House. He had sent workmen to erect the new buildings already mentioned, and, only eight days after the date of this letter to Mr. Dixon, the foundation stones were laid with as much ceremonial pomp as the colony of Georgia could contribute. Hence the following letter, dated “Savannah, in Georgia, March 29, 1769,” and published in _Lloyd’s Evening Post_, of June 2:――

“The Rev. Mr. George Whitefield having sent over proper workmen
to erect the necessary additional buildings for the intended
Academy at the Orphan House, on Saturday last, being the
anniversary of laying the foundation of that house in the year
1739, his Excellency, the Governor, attended by most of the
members of the Honourable Council and a great number of other
gentlemen, after the service of church was performed, and
a sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. Samuel Frink, Rector of
Christ Church parish, laid the foundation of both the intended
wings; and the whole company, being entertained at dinner in
a plentiful and decent manner, returned to their habitations
seemingly much pleased with the occasion of their meeting,
and their treatment there. From this beginning, we have the
most sanguine hopes, that, in a short time, we shall enjoy the
advantage of educating our youth within ourselves; a benefit we
have, in a great measure, been deprived of, for want of such an
establishment.”

Early in April, Whitefield set out to Bath, on a visit to the Countess of Huntingdon. Here and in the neighbourhood, he spent a month, preaching at a large number of places, to most of which he was accompanied by her ladyship, and by Lady Anne Erskine.[623] Bath and Bristol were the chief scenes of action; but he had “a good field-preaching at Kingswood;” had “a blessed day in Bradford _church_;” and also another in “the fields at Frome, where thousands attended.” He had “golden seasons” at Chippenham, Castle-Combe, Dursley, Rodborough, Painswick, Gloucester, and Cheltenham. On his way back to London, he wrote, to Captain Joss:――

“Rodborough, Thursday, May 11, 1769. Ebenezer! Ebenezer! Blessed
seasons at Chippenham, Castle-Combe, and Dursley, in our way
from Frome. Have been enabled to preach five times this week.
It is good to go into the highways and hedges. Field-preaching,
field-preaching for ever!”

A week after this, he was in London, and wrote to Thomas Adams, at Rodborough, in the most jubilant strain:――

“London, Thursday, May 18, 1769. My very dear old friend.
On Monday we reached Letchlade, on Tuesday Maidenhead, and
yesterday London. Never was Rodborough so endeared to me, as
at this last visit. Old friends, old gospel wine, and the great
Governor ordering to fill to the brim!

‘O to grace what mighty debtors!’

“If we should die singing that hymn, what then? Why, then,
welcome, welcome eternity! Christ’s grace will be sufficient for
us. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

The next three months were chiefly spent in London. Whitefield complained of a “hoarseness, gotten in the highways and hedges;” but he was as full of holy buoyancy as ever. He had now determined to sail for America, and began to make the necessary preparations for his voyage. He bought “Osnaburg linen,” for his negroes; he begged maps and books for his Bethesda Institution; and, in thanking his friend Mr. Keen for a benefaction to his Orphanage, wrote: “Our Lord will write Himself your debtor for it. His interest is pretty good――‘a hundredfold.’ A hundredfold! What can the most avaricious trader desire more?”

One of his last public services was the opening of the Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel at Tunbridge Wells. This took place on Sunday, July 23. The Countess, Lady Anne Erskine, Lady Buchan, and Miss Orton went with him.[624] Early in the morning, a large number of persons assembled at the front of Lady Huntingdon’s residence, and, in the open air, sang hymns and prayed, till the time announced for the commencement of public service in the chapel. “Never,” said her ladyship, “can I forget the sensations of pleasure I felt, on being awoke by the voice of praise and thanksgiving.” The chapel, of course, was thronged. De Courcy read the prayers of the Established Church; and, then, a large crowd not being able to get inside the chapel, Whitefield came out, followed by those who had joined in the reading of the liturgy, and preached to the assembled thousands, from “How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”[625] The sermon was said to be “a perfect piece of oratory.” “Look yonder!” cried the preacher, as he stretched out his hands “Look yonder! What is that I see? It is my agonizing Lord! Hark! hark! hark! Do not you hear? O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord!” Simple words, but producing effects which cannot be described. In connection with these and all Whitefield’s utterances, the reader must bear in mind that Whitefield’s face was language, his intonation music, and his action passion. Garrick used to say of him, that, he could make men weep or tremble by his varied pronunciation of the word “Mesopotamia.” This was an exaggeration; but it expressed the opinion of the greatest of theatrical orators concerning the power of Whitefield’s eloquence.

The day at Tunbridge Wells, a hundred and seven years ago, was probably one of the most remarkable in the history of that resort of fashionable gaiety. After Whitefield’s sermon, the sacrament of the Lord’s supper was administered, at which four clergymen attended, besides Whitefield himself. During the day, three of these clergymen, at three different times, preached to the assembled multitudes, from a small mount raised for that purpose at the front of the chapel.[626] One of these was Richard de Courcy,[627] the fervid young Irishman, already mentioned, and whose talent and eloquence made him immensely popular. The chapel itself, said _Lloyd’s Evening Post_[628], “has been inspected by some ingenious artists, and is looked upon to be the most complete piece of Gothic architecture that has been constructed for many years!”

Whitefield’s days in England were now nearly ended. In a letter to Captain Joss, dated “Tottenham Court, August 9, 1769,” he wrote:――

“My hands and heart are full. Last night, I went on board
the _Friendship_. The captain is to dine with me to-morrow.
I expect to sail the first week in September. You must then be
in town.[629] Mr. Brooksbanks will supply your place. I hope
all things will be settled on a right plan. I have the greatest
confidence in you. I only wish some means may be found to save
the late great expense of coach hire. It has mounted very high.”

In another letter, dated ten days later, and addressed to Mr. Adams, Whitefield wrote:――

“My very dear Tommy, talk not of taking a personal leave.
You know my make. Paul could stand a _whipping_, but not a
_weeping_ farewell. Many thanks for your intended present. God
bless you and yours! God bless all our never-to-be-forgotten
Gloucestershire friends! I can no more. Adieu! Cease not to pray
for, my very dear steady old friend,

“Less than the least of all,

“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”

Six days after this, on Friday night, August 25, Whitefield held one of his last sacramental services in England. This was in the Tabernacle, near Moorfields. Nearly two thousand communicants were present![630]

On the Sunday following, he preached his last sermon in Tottenham Court Road chapel. The text was, Genesis xxviii. 12–15. A few extracts must be given. Besides the interest they possess as being among Whitefield’s _last words_ in England, they will help to illustrate his style of preaching, when his work was nearly ended.

“When we are travelling in the woods of America, we are obliged
to light a fire; and that keeps off the beasts from us. I have
often got up in the night, and said to them that were with
me (and God forbid I should ever travel with any one, even a
quarter of an hour, without speaking something of Jesus!)――‘This
fire,’ said I, ‘is like the fire of God’s love, which keeps off
the devil and our own lusts from hurting our souls.’

“It comforts me much, I assure you, to think that, whenever
God shall call for me, angels will carry me into the bosom of
Abraham; but it comforts me more to think, that, as soon as they
lay hold of me, my first question to them will be, ‘Where is my
_Master_? Where is my _Jesus_?’ And that, after all my tossings
and tumblings here, I shall be brought to see His face at last.

“It is now high time for me to preach my own _funeral sermon_.
I am going, for the thirteenth time, to cross the Atlantic.
When I came from America last, my health was so bad that I
took leave of all friends on the continent, from one end to
the other, without the least design of returning to them again.
But, to my great surprise, God has been pleased to restore to
me some measure of strength; and, though I intended to give up
the Orphan House into other hands, God has so ordered it, that
his Grace the late Archbishop of Canterbury refused me a charter,
unless I would confine it to episcopacy. I could not, in honour,
comply with this, as Dissenters, and other serious people of
different denominations, had contributed towards its support.
I would sooner cut off my head than betray my trust. I always
meant the Orphan House to be kept upon a broad bottom, for
people of all denominations. I hope, by the 25th of March next,
all intended alterations and additions will be completed, and a
blessed provision be made for many hundreds; and a comfortable
support for poor orphans and poor students. This is my only
design in going. I intend to travel all along the continent.
I am going in no public capacity. I am going trusting in God
to bear my charges. I call heaven and earth to witness that I
have never had the love of the world one quarter of an hour in
my heart. I might have been rich; but now, though this chapel
is built, and though I have a comfortable room to live in, I
assure you I built the room at my own expense. It cost nobody but
myself anything, and I shall leave it with an easy mind. I have
thought of these words with pleasure, ‘I will bring thee again
to this land.’ I know not whether that will be my experience;
but, blessed be God! I have a better land in view. I do not
look upon myself at home till I land in my Father’s house. My
greatest trial is to part with those who are as dear to me as my
own soul. O keep close to God, my dear London friends. I do not
bid you keep close to chapel. You have always done that. I shall
endeavour to keep up the word of God among you during my absence.
I might have had a thousand a year out of this place, if I had
chosen it. When I am gone to heaven, you will see what I have
got on earth. I do not like to speak now, because it might be
thought boasting.”[631]

Whitefield’s last sermon[632] in London was preached in the Tabernacle, Moorfields, at seven o’clock on Wednesday morning, August 30.[633] The text he selected was, John x. 27, 28. The sermon (if so it may be called) was earnest talk, incoherent, and, some would say, egotistic; but it was interspersed with characteristic sentences.

“Sheep,” said Whitefield, “love to be together. They don’t love
to be alone. You seldom see a sheep by itself; and Christ’s
people may well be compared to them in this. Oh, think some, if
we had great people on our side, the King, Lords, and Commons!
What then? Alas! alas! Do you think the Church of God would go
on a bit the better? No! no! Religion never prospers when it
has too much sunshine. Dr. Marryat was not ashamed to preach
in _market language_; and I once heard him say at Pinner’s Hall,
‘God has a great dog to fetch His sheep back when they wander.’
Yes, when God’s people wander, He sends the devil after them,
and suffers him to bark at them; but instead of barking them
further off, he only barks them back again to the fold of
Christ.”

In another part of his discourse, Whitefield, unnecessarily if not egotistically, stated that, before he was twenty-two years of age, he had the offer of two parishes, by Benson, Bishop of Gloucester; that, when he first came to London, most of the metropolitan churches were open to him; and that twelve or fourteen constables had to guard the doors of the churches where he preached. He then referred to his intention to turn the Orphan House into a College; and highly eulogised Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, his “old servants” there, and also the Messrs. Wright and Mr. Crane, whom he had sent out to execute the improvements and additions to the building. He concluded as follows:――

“This is the thirteenth time of my crossing the mighty waters.
It is a little difficult at this time of life; but I delight in
the cause, and God fills me with a peace that is unutterable. I
expect many trials while on board. Satan always meets me there;
but God, I believe, will keep me. I thank God, I have the honour
of leaving everything quite well and easy at both ends of the
town. If I am drowned, I will say, if I can, while I am drowning,
‘Lord, take care of my English friends!’ Some of you, I doubt
not, will be gone to Christ before my return; but, though parted,
it will be to meet again for ever. God grant that none who
weep now at my parting, may weep at our meeting at the day of
judgment! Come, sinner, come, see what it is to have eternal
life! Haste! haste! haste away to the great, the glorious
Shepherd! I care not what shepherds you are under, so that you
are kept near the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls. The Lord
bless you and keep you! The Lord make His face shine upon you,
and be gracious unto you! The Lord lift up His countenance upon
you, and give you peace!”

Such was Whitefield’s final benediction upon his Tabernacle congregation, on Wednesday _morning_, August 30. In point of fact, this was a _second_ farewell sermon, in the same building; for, on the Wednesday night previous, he had addressed those of the congregation who were unable to attend a week-day morning service. His sermon, on that occasion, was, in all respects, superior to his final one. The text was, “And thy God thy glory” (Isaiah lx. 19). He then made his last London collection.