Chapter VI: Part 6

“MANCHESTER, _August 3, 1744_.

“How glad I am to hear of Mr. Whitefield’s success in the
service of his God. O happy Mr. Whitefield! His unparalleled
labours, with answerable success, make his life a continued
miracle. For a month past, I have been nigh unto death. My life
is generally despaired of; and the Lord seems to be preparing
the way for it, _first_, by a flow of converts, above twenty
having been added to us during the last two months; and,
_secondly_, by raising up several with very useful gifts; so
that I am ready to say, ‘Lord, now let Thy servant depart in
peace! Let me, O Lord, come above to the palm-bearing company!
Fifty-five years have I been in the work, a poor weakling, yet
crowned, by Thy blessing, with success.’

“As to Mr. Whitefield’s Preface to my Sermon,[101] I give a
thousand thanks to him. It is his goodness, not my deserts,
that has placed his valuable name before any performance of
mine.”[102]

A month after the date of this letter, good old David Crossly was gone. “I am ready for the Bridegroom,” he cried; “I know my Redeemer liveth;” with the utterance of which he triumphantly expired.[103]

Another brave-hearted man must be mentioned. Thomas Beard was one of Wesley’s preachers, but he was also warmly attached to Whitefield, and wrote to him the following sweet and simple letter:――

“BERWICK-UPON-TWEED, _September 17, 1744_.

“SIR,――It has been often upon my mind to write to you since I
have been in this state of life, which is not agreeable at all
to my inclinations. I have but little acquaintance with you,
but I hope you will not be offended at my writing to you. The
children of God, while on this side of the grave, always stand
in need of one another’s prayers, especially such of them as are
under persecutions, or temptations, for the truth’s sake. I find
I stand in need of the prayers of all the children of God.

“I was pressed, in Yorkshire, for preaching, and so sent for a
soldier. I earnestly pray for them who were the occasion of it.
All my trust is reposed in Jesus, my sweet Saviour. I know He
will not leave nor forsake me. His blood has atoned for my sin,
and appeased His Father’s wrath, and procured His favour for
such a sinful worm as myself. Herein is my comfort, though men
raged at me, my dear Saviour did not leave nor forsake me.

“I have lately been on a command in Scotland, and met with many
who enquired concerning you. I preached at Cowdingham. Some of
your friends came to see me from Coppersmith. Many thought it
strange to see a man in a red coat preach.

“I beg you would write to me in General Blakeney’s regiment of
foot, in Captain Dunlop’s company.

“I am your unworthy brother,

“THOMAS BEARD.”[104]

Before Whitefield had an opportunity to answer, poor Beard, as one of the first of Methodism’s martyrs, had been called to inherit a martyr’s crown. Wesley, in 1744, wrote thus concerning him:――

“Thomas Beard, a quiet and peaceable man, who had lately been
torn from his trade, and wife and children, and sent away as a
soldier; that is, banished from all that was near and dear to
him, and constrained to dwell among lions, for no other crime,
either committed or pretended, than that of calling sinners
to repentance. But his soul was in nothing terrified by his
adversaries. Yet the body, after a while, sunk under its burden.
He was then lodged in the hospital at Newcastle, where he still
praised God continually. His arm festered, mortified, and was
cut off: two or three days after which, God signed his discharge,
and called him up to his eternal home.”

The case of Thomas Beard was far from being a solitary one. Magistrates, as well as mobs, hated the Methodists, and were always ready to approve of the violent proceedings of the press-gangs of the period. Not a few of both Wesley’s and Whitefield’s preachers and people were driven from their homes, and dragged into the army. Two purposes were thought to be served by these high-handed acts; first, the army obtained the recruits it greatly needed; and, secondly, as both mobs and magistrates imagined, the voices of Methodists and Methodist preachers were likely to be silenced. The last was a huge mistake. It may fairly be questioned whether the Methodists, who were forced into the army and navy, did not, in such positions, render greater service to the cause of Christ and of Methodism, than they could have rendered had they remained at home unmolested. Passing men like John Nelson, Thomas Beard, and many others, pressed into regiments at home, there were a considerable number with the English army in Flanders, whose heroism and Christianity will always shed a lustre on Methodism’s early annals. Wesley mentions some of these with the highest approbation, as, for instance, John Haime, John Greenwood, William Clements, John Evans, and others. Whitefield also, in his periodical, the _Christian History_,[105] published a number of letters, written by soldiers belonging to his own community, as well as by some who were Wesley’s followers. One man, at Ghent, under the date of December 24, 1744, tells of being recently converted under the preaching of a “dragoon,” belonging to “the first regiment of guards,” in which regiment there were now “about a hundred members of that branch of the Society, that is, the _United Society_.” He continues: “The Lord adds to our number daily, and works very powerfully amongst us.” Another, at the same place, blesses God that he ever heard John Cennick preach. Anthony Conjuet, “a drummer in the English camp in Flanders,” relates that he and the regiment of English Guards had lately been “seven hours under the firing of the French cannons,” and then adds:――

“There are many of the members of the Societies killed and
wounded. Most of them were taken notice of for their valour.
Ebenezer Wells and Thomas Burford, and our brothers Cook and
Forrest, are all wounded, and prisoners with the French. William
Clements, teacher of a Society, is wounded in both arms, but is
in a fair way to do well. John Evans, teacher of another Society,
(who is a gunner of the train,) and Brother Hymms (Haime?) the
dragoon, are well. Brother Hymms is also teacher of another
Society. There are three other teachers alive and well.

“There is a great awakening in our camp, and the work of grace
goes on with great success. Many blaspheming tongues are now
singing praises to God, and to the Lamb.”

William Clements, mentioned in the foregoing letter, gives an account of “an engagement with the French, which lasted from five o’clock in the morning until three in the afternoon;” and of his being “now under the surgeon’s hands in Brussels.” He adds, that he has “received letters from the Brethren at the Camp,” telling him, that, since the battle, “the work of the Lord had gone on with great power.” And then, after sending his salutations to his “friend in Suffolk,” he concludes thus:――

“Grant, I beseech Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, that we may be
of that happy number who have washed their robes and made them
white in the blood of the Lamb; and that we may stand upon Mount
Zion, amongst the multitude which no man can number, to sing
praises and hallelujahs for ever and ever. Amen.

“Which is all at present from your poor unworthy brother,

“W. CLEMENTS.”

These were bravely loyal, though deeply injured, Methodists; and displayed equal valour in fighting for their country, and for the kingdom of their God and Saviour.

Before following Whitefield to America, a few facts respecting the Societies over which he and his assistants presided may be useful. For want of materials, a full account of these is impossible; but the following scraps of information, taken from the _Christian History_, will, perhaps, be interesting:――

_Wales._――_Herbert Jenkins_, in a letter dated “October 3, 1744,” tells of attending an “Association,” in Wales, at which “above twenty brethren” were present.

“The Lord,” says he, “made us of one heart and mind. We
consulted about the best measures to carry on the cause of our
Redeemer. We sung and prayed heartily together. When we parted,
we went east, west, north, and south. The waters were out, and
I was to the middle of my leg on horseback. One of the brethren
had his horse carried away by the floods, and he himself
narrowly escaped being drowned.”

In another letter, dated “February 23, 1745,” _Jenkins_ writes:――

“I went to the Association in Wales, where about sixty of us
met together, four of whom were clergymen. The Lord was amongst
us. Many of the hearers were greatly comforted. We were two days
together, and had sweet harmony. We had good accounts of the
progress of the work of our Lord in six or seven counties.”

_Bristol_, _Bath_, etc.――In October, 1744, _E. Godwin_ writes:――

“I have changed the tickets of about a hundred and twenty at
Bristol, and have received fourteen new members. After I changed
the tickets, I held a lovefeast, when, with a hymn, we publicly
admitted our new members. On the first Monday in this month, we
had a letter-day. We were about three hours together, and had
a collection for defraying the charge of the place, which was
the largest that had been made since Mr. Whitefield solemnized
a feast-day here.”

Under the date of November 16, 1744, _Herbert Jenkins_ says:――

“The hall in Bristol is commonly full. I generally preach,
morning and evening, with freedom and delight. The people are
devout and serious. Last Sunday, I preached four times; but,
though I had walked to Connam and Kingswood, I was stronger in
body, and happier in my soul at last than I was at first. The
Society at Bath goes on sweetly, and grows in grace, and in
number, daily. We had a choice lovefeast there last Thursday
night. It was the first in that place, and was very solemn and
orderly.”

_Ludlow_, _Leominster_, etc.――In a letter, dated December 12, 1744, _James Ingram_ says:――

“I went to Ludlow, it being fair-day there; and soon had a
pressing invitation to preach at an honest Dissenter’s house. I
complied, though a young man told my sister I should be put into
the stocks if I offered to _cant_ there. I preached to a serious
auditory, and the poor loving people would not willingly part
with me. Only one of them had ever heard such things before. I
promised to visit them again. The Society at Leominster seems
pretty sweet. We met at four in the morning. I have now almost
finished my round, and a happy one it has been. The people in
Monmouthshire are more lively than usual. I was accompanied by
eight or nine horse-people, and some on foot, from Caldicot to
Redwick.”

A letter from _James Beaumont_ must be quoted at greater length. It is dated June 10, 1745. He writes:――

“On Thursday, the 7th inst., I was at Leominster. During the
time of my preaching, the people behaved tolerably well; but,
soon after I had done, a man came to press me. He took me to the
justice’s house, and there left me. The justice being absent,
I knew not what to do; but, seeing myself surrounded by a large
and turbulent mob, I got upon the justice’s steps, and spake
of their illegal proceedings, and then returned, without any
hurt, to Brother K――――’s, and sang a hymn of praise to our
great Deliverer. Soon after this, I was pressed again, by
another constable, who took me before the commissioners in
a public-house. By this time the town was in an uproar. The
commissioners ordered the constable to take me to a private
room. I was confined about four hours; and was then called
before the commissioners, who asked me if I was exempted from the
present Act. I told them I was. Justice H―――― said, ‘By what?’
I answered, ‘I have £3 a year freehold in the parish of Old
Radnor.’ ‘Where are your writings?’ said they. I said, ‘At home.’
They then asked me if I had any friend, in Leominster, who would
satisfy them of the account I had given of myself. ‘I have,’
said I; and, soon after, the man came in, and confirmed what I
had said. Then the gentlemen were pleased to condescend to do
me justice, and I was discharged immediately. They ordered an
officer to guard me to my friends, to whom I was safely brought;
and we joined in praises to God for His mercies to me His sinful
child.”

_Wiltshire._――On November 15, 1744, _E. Godwin_ writes:――

“Wiltshire is surely a garden of the Lord. Last week I was
chiefly about Longley and Brinkworth. Last Monday I went to
Blunsdon. It was their revel; so I preached out of doors, and
a great power seemed to attend the word, some crying, who had
hardly ever wept since they were children.”

The preacher, at this time appointed to the Wiltshire circuit, was _George Cook_, of whom E. Godwin had said, only a few weeks before, “Brother Cook’s preaching is much blessed in Wiltshire, though his gifts are not enlarged enough for a city.” On December 8, _Cook_ wrote to Cennick:――

“On the 22nd day of last month I went to Wickwar. As soon as
I began preaching, the mob came with sheep-bells tied to a
stick, and so they did ring them. They had also frying-pans,
horse-rugles, a salt-box, and a post-horn. Some of the mob did
put their mouths to the window, and made a noise like that of
dogs; and they called me false prophet, and all manner of names
they could think of; but Satan can go no farther than his chain.
The Lord gave me an uncommon power to speak of His blood; and
many of the people were greatly refreshed in their souls. Pray
for me, dear sir.

“I am your little, weak, sinful, simple brother, in the wounds
of the Lamb,

“GEORGE COOK.”

Within a month afterwards, this “weak and simple brother” was dead. _John Cennick_ writes:――

“January 7, 1745. I rode round by Avebury, where brother Cook
sickened of the small-pox. The minister of Avebury behaved very
ill while he was sick, and threatened he would remove him, bad
as he was, out of the place, and would treat him as a vagabond.
He was not willing that brother Cook should be buried at Avebury;
and, therefore, in the dead of the night, the friends brought
him to Tytherton upon a horse; and, about two o’clock on Sunday
morning last, they laid him by the side of three other bodies of
the saints.”

Eight months after this strange interment, _John Edwards_ came to Avebury, where George Cook had died. Edwards shall tell his own story.

“I went to Avebury, where we had a blessed season; but, in the
midst of my discourse, came the minister’s servant-maid, from
her master, with a partridge for my supper; and to tell me, that
he would have me come to drink a bottle with him. I met him the
next day, and thanked him for his present and invitation. He
called me _ignorant_, _unlearned_, _fool_, etc. I told him I
was wise unto salvation; but as for being a fool, I acknowledged
that, and was determined to be more and more a fool for Christ’s
sake. He hooted and hallooed me, like a schoolboy, till I
left him. The same night, when in the midst of my discourse,
a company came, and began to throw stones at me, and struck me
once on the breast. The people shut the door, and then those
outside began their music with bells and horns. They broke the
windows with clubs, and some of the people’s faces were cut with
glass. They threw in dirt and mud; and, at length, I broke off
preaching, and went to prayer for our enemies.”

_Gloucestershire._――_Isaac Cottell_, in a letter dated October 10, 1744, gives an account of his labours in the Gloucestershire circuit. The following is an extract:――

“On October 7, I came to Wickwar about five o’clock in the
evening. The house, where I was to preach, was surrounded with a
mob, making a great noise. When I had been there about a quarter
of an hour, in came the curate of the town, three gentlemen, and
the constable with his long black staff. One of the gentlemen
ordered the people to make way for the parson to come up to me.
I was then singing a hymn; and the gentleman snatched the book
out of my hand, tore it, and threw it up into the window. I then
gave out a verse _extempore_; and he put his elbow up to stop
my mouth. Then the curate came up to me, and began to read the
Act of Parliament, and commanded us to depart in half an hour.
At the same time, the gentleman asked me why I ran about the
country, to pick people’s pockets? I told him I came to preach
the Lord Jesus Christ, the King of kings. He said I came to make
a riot. I told him, if he did not take care, he would make a
riot himself. With that the gentlemen began to withdraw; and
I got upon a stool, sang a hymn, and went to prayer. Dear sir,
though the devil roars, the Lord Jesus Christ will have the
victory.”

This kind of persecution, in Whitefield’s native country, was continued. Ten months afterwards, _George Cross_ wrote to John Cennick:――

“I met with much opposition in Gloucestershire; for T. B. had
declared to the congregations at Thornbury and Rangeworthy,
that, I preach damnable doctrine; and that you, brother Godwin,
brother Thorne, brother Pugh, and I worship the body of Jesus,
which, he said, is idolatry.”

_Essex._――In a letter dated July 30, 1744, _F. Pugh_ gives an interesting narrative of his preaching at Braintree, Bocking, and in “a Quaker’s mill-yard, about a mile from Chelmsford.” In another letter, written at Braintree, twelve months afterwards, he says:――

“I have met with a deal of persecution since I came here. There
were many stones, and much dust thrown at me last Wednesday
night. There is a mountebank in town, who is the cause of all
the persecution. There was a drummer, who drew his hanger at me,
and damned me, saying it was fit for me to die; but a soldier
ran to him, and took it from him. Last Sunday, I preached at
Tiptree-heath, to some thousands. There were two chariots; and
gentlemen in gold lace came to hear. One of the gentlemen, in a
chariot, sent for me, and desired me to preach in the town where
he lived; but I could not, for my rounds were already settled
and published.”

_Northamptonshire_, etc.――_Thomas Lewis_, in a long letter, written at Olney, October 13, 1744, tells of his preaching “in the Tabernacle” there, for an entire week, and of the conversions which took place during the services. At Northampton, “the people seemed to be all in a flame, and stretched after God.” Other places in the counties of Buckingham and Northampton were also visited.

_Staffordshire_, etc.――_W. Allt_ writes:――

“February 6, 1745. Several at Whittington are under convictions.
One, who had spent all his youth in indefatigable industry to
gather together this world’s wealth, was for selling what he had,
and said he could travel the world over with me; but I advised
him to keep at home, telling him that Jesus would be found there.
Many at Wolverhampton seem very desirous to meet, but dare not,
the mob is so desperate. They arose, after I was gone on Sunday
last, and broke brother D――――’s windows, and beat a young man
shamefully, and tore his coat all to pieces. At Brewood, the
friends are very zealous, in going from house to house, to tell
what the Lord has done for them; and people come several miles
to converse, and sing, and pray with them. I am persuaded, if
a minister was there, several hundreds would come to hear him
every Sunday. The people are very simple and free from prejudice.
They say the parishioners are half papists; and the Church and
Dissenting ministers are exceeding bitter. I have exhorted twice
at Birmingham with much freedom.”

_Herbert Jenkins_, in a letter, dated February 23, 1745, says:――

“The first night I was at Birmingham, the people received the
word with great affection, and with many tears. The place where
we met on Sunday night was so thronged that the candles went
out; but the Lord made the place a Bethel to our souls. I stayed
there four days, declaring to all who came the glad tidings
of salvation. From thence, I went to Wednesbury, where, for a
week, morning and evening, I shunned not to declare the whole
counsel of God. Many heard with tears, longing and panting for
a discovery of the Lord Jesus; while others rejoiced in the Lord,
their portion and everlasting friend. There is much Christian
simplicity among them. I preached once at Wolverhampton (a large
populous place), to a little company of sincere seeking souls.
The next day I went to Brewood, where there was scarcely a
dry eye among all the people. From thence, I went to Bewdley,
where I was invited by a minister of the Established Church,
who received me very courteously, and procured the Presbyterian
meeting-house for me to preach in. The minister came to hear me,
and behaved very civilly. The people flocked to hear the word.
There is a little Society formed.”

_Devonshire._――After attending “The Association” of Calvinistic Methodists in Bristol, _John Cennick_, on September 5, 1744, set out for Devonshire. He preached in Mr. Darracott’s chapel at Wellington, to a “congregation made up of Church people, and several sorts of Dissenters.” He had, what he calls, “blessed times,” at Exeter. At Kingsbridge, he preached in the Baptist and Presbyterian chapels. At Plymouth, “the room” was always crowded; and, on Tuesday, September 11, he “laid the first stone of the New Tabernacle with prayer and singing.” On his return to London (to officiate as Whitefield’s successor at the Tabernacle), he spent ten days at Exeter, where the Dissenting ministers circulated “fly-sheets,” asserting that Whitefield and his assistants were “false prophets, unlearned, and Antinomians.” Cennick was a puzzle to the people. Some said he was “a patten-maker;” others said he had been “a footman.” Numerous other trades were mentioned, when, at last, a man declared he “was certainly a coachman.” “Yes,” replied another, who happened to be one of Cennick’s hearers. “Yes, he is a coachman, and drives the chariot of the Lord, and wishes you all to be his passengers.”

On his arrival in London, Cennick seems to have received a large number of letters from the Plymouth converts. One correspondent told him, that, the Presbyterian minister had warned his people against Whitefield and his preachers, whom he called “Bold Intruders, Usurpers, and Novices.” The same writer said:――

“I have removed our singing meeting to the Baptist Chapel.
There are about fifty who meet to learn the tunes. My house is,
every night, like a little church; and, last Sunday evening,
I began to read Mr. Whitefield’s sermons to the people. Several
gentlemen have desired to draw off our masons, so that the
building of the Tabernacle has been neglected. I have had much
trouble to keep the work going forward.”

Cennick was succeeded in Devonshire by _Thomas Adams_. At Exeter, Adams preached in “the Society room,” at five in the mornings; and in the house of Mr. Kennedy, his host, at seven in the evenings. He writes: “It would have delighted you to have seen the multitudes who flocked to hear. Mr. Kennedy’s three rooms and large passage would not near contain the people: many, very many stood in the court.” At Kingsbridge, Adams met a lawyer who had been converted by Whitefield’s preaching. At Plymouth, he found “the partition-wall of bigotry tumbling down daily.” This was in the month of November, 1744. Shortly afterwards, so far as Exeter was concerned, the scene had changed.

In 1745, a pamphlet of forty-two pages was published at Exeter, entitled, “A brief Account of the late Persecution and Barbarous Usage of the Methodists at Exeter.[106] By an Impartial Hand.” The author assures his readers, that he is not a Methodist himself; and that “it would never have entered his head to have taken up his pen in defence of the Methodists, had they not been daily, and openly, treated in Exeter with such rudeness, violence, and abuse, as would have made even _Indians_, or Pagans, to have blushed.” He relates that,――

“The rioters violently entered the Methodist meeting-house,
interrupted the minister with opprobrious and obscene language,
and fell upon him in a most furious manner with blows and kicks.
They treated every man they could lay their hands upon with
such abuse and indignity as is not to be expressed. But what is
more than all, was their abominable rudeness to the poor women.
Some were stripped quite naked. Others notwithstanding their
most piercing cries for mercy and deliverance, were forcibly
held by some of the wicked ruffians, while others turned their
petticoats over their heads, and forced them to remain, in that
condition, as a spectacle to their infamous banter and ridicule;
the poor creatures being afterwards dragged through the kennel,
which had been filled with mud and dirt. Others of the women
had their clothes, yea, their very shifts, torn from their
backs. Towards the close of the evening, one of the mob forced
a woman up into the gallery, and attempted other outrages, three
different times. After many struggles, she freed herself, leaped
over the gallery, and so made her escape. Many, to avoid falling
into the hands of this wicked crew, leaped out of the windows,
and got over the garden walls, to the endangering of their lives.
This outrage was committed in the centre of the city, and in the
presence of many thousands. The riot continued for several hours.
The mob had their full swing. No magistrates came to the relief
or assistance of the poor people, notwithstanding they were
applied to, and greatly importuned to read the Riot Act. It is
true, no one was actually murdered; but the whole Society were
put into great danger and fear of their lives, and expected
nothing but death. Many of the women are now in very critical
circumstances, under the care of surgeons and apothecaries; and
their lives are even yet (two days after the riot) in danger.

“Before I dismiss this Exeter riot, I must remark, that the
Methodists, not only on the day of the grand riot, but, many
times since, have been treated by this lawless rabble with the
utmost fury and violence. They have been mobbed and insulted,
at noonday, in the open streets, and furiously pelted with dirt,
stones, sticks, and cabbage-stumps.

“After the strictest enquiry, I cannot find that any one
_Dissenter_, of _any denomination_, was at all concerned in
this riot. They were all of the _old stamp_, that have ever
been known by the name of _church rabble_; though I cannot
omit to notice, that the Methodists complain much against
the Presbyterian clergy, who (they say), in their sermons
and conversations, frequently represent them in a _false_ and
_injurious_ light; and, thereby, lessen the affection, and raise
the antipathy, of the people towards them.”

The author concludes by saying, that his pamphlet was written “for his _own private amusement_, and without any design to _publish_ it;” and that its _publication_ was the result of what he saw and heard after the pamphlet was finished.

“On a certain evening, he saw, with his own eyes, the wicked
rioters collected and assembled together, by beat of drum, in
the open streets, with sticks and bats, in order to disturb
and abuse the poor Methodists, who were at their meeting-house,
worshipping and serving God, in a manner perfectly innocent
and inoffensive, without the least disturbance to the public
peace. He saw the Methodists flee with great fear and trembling,
and the rabble persecuting with rage and violence. And he
heard, that, the very night before, this same riotous crew,
to the number of many hundreds, attacked Mr. Adams, one of the
Methodist ministers, with sticks, dirt, and mud; and that, in
all probability, they would have murdered him in the open street,
had not a good Samaritan, in Southgate Street, taken him into
his house, and there rescued him from their violent and wicked
hands.”

At the risk of being prolix, Mr. Adams’s own account must be added to these statements of the “impartial” observer at Exeter. The _Christian History_ No. 3, vol. vii., 1745, contains two letters on the subject, one by “a gentleman in Exeter,”[107] dated June 16, 1745, and the other by Thomas Adams himself, dated Hampton, June 20, 1745. The latter writes:――

“On my way to the west, I heard of a cruel persecution at Exeter;
but I had no freedom to omit going thither, though I expected
much opposition. Our Saviour brought me there on Saturday
evening, and I was kindly received by Mr. Kennedy and his
wife. Many told me, we should be mobbed, if I preached in the
play-house; but we thought it was right to try. Accordingly, I
preached there, at six o’clock on Sunday morning, and we were
not much disturbed. I preached again in the afternoon, and,
though many of the mob came in, they did not disturb us.

“The next morning, (Monday) we were much interrupted, by the
mob beating a drum and a pan, at a window of the play-house;
and they hallooed us, and beat the drum quite to Mr. Kennedy’s
house. We did not, however, receive much personal abuse until
eight days after, when I came back from Plymouth.” [Adams here
interjects an account of his preaching at Plymouth, Kingsbridge,
Wonhil, and Tavistock, at which last-mentioned place, the mob
brought out the water-engine, and endeavoured to play it upon
him and his congregation. He then proceeds with his narrative
of the persecution at Exeter.]

“The evening I returned to Exeter, I preached in Mr. Kennedy’s
house. The next morning, (Thursday) I preached at the play-house;
and so continued morning and evening till Saturday; but not
without interruption of a drum, besides being hallooed after,
and pushed about, as we went along the street.

“On Saturday morning, as soon as I had done preaching, some of
the brethren told me there were several constables waiting at
the _Dove_ to impress me. Accordingly, when I came to the _Dove_,
one of the constables laid hold on me, and said, I was a fit
person to serve the king. I told him, if he had sufficient
authority for his proceedings, I would go with him. They then
took hold of Brother S――――, who had come with me from Plymouth,
and told him he must go with me. We knew not whither we were
going, till we got to Southgate prison. When we came to the
prison door, they stopped us, and said, we must go in there.
Having entered, one of the constables asked me what countryman
I was. I modestly answered, ‘My country is Canaan, and thither
I am journeying.’ They said we must stay in prison till Monday,
and then be brought before the justices at their quarter
sessions.

“We had not, however, been there above five or six hours,
when two of the constables came again, and desired to know our
circumstances and manner of living; and particularly if I had
taken the oaths, and qualified myself for preaching. I said,
‘You ought to have enquired into this before you brought us
hither. Do we look like vagrants? Mr. S. is a tradesman, and
keeps an open shop in Plymouth, and came hither about business.
He is also a constable, so that you have impressed one of the
king’s officers. As to myself, I am of the Church of England,
and have no need to take the oaths to qualify myself for a
preacher; and, besides, I am a freeholder.’ When they heard this,
they said, ‘Gentlemen, we have no more to say. You are welcome
to go as soon as you please.’ So they called the keeper of the
prison, and desired him to release us. At first, he refused, and
said he durst not without an order from the magistrates. They
said, as they brought us thither without being committed by the
justices, they had power to release us. The keeper said, they
must give security to bear him blameless. Whether they did or
not, I cannot tell; but they let us go; and I believe the poor
constables were as glad to bring us out as they were to put us
in. I gave the turnkey sixpence, because he used us kindly, and
asked us to go on the leads of the house to air ourselves.

“In the evening, I again preached in the play-house, but was
much disturbed. Some beat a drum; some hallooed; some stamped
up and down the galleries; and some spat on the people, and
slapped them on their faces. Mr. S. and another[108] went to
a justice of the peace, and desired the Proclamation might be
read, to disperse the mob. The justice said he would come; and
bid them go directly to the town clerk’s, and he would meet them
there. Thither they went, and from thence to the mayor’s, who
made many objections against going. After great delay, he went
with reluctance; but, before they came, we were gone, being
apprehensive that the mob would abuse the women as they had done
before, which was cruel and inhuman.

“The passage, from the play-house to the street, was filled with
fellows of the baser sort. One poor wretch gnashed his teeth,
and swore he would be revenged on me. We were pushed about most
grievously. The women were thrown into the dirt, and one had
her eye much hurt. Two of the brethren were cuffed prodigiously.
I received only some scratches on my hand, but was besmeared
all over with mud and dirt, the mob pelting us with all the
nastiness the kennels afforded, till we got to the house of
Mr. Kennedy.

“The next day being Sunday, and the last of my being there,
many of our friends thought it would be best to preach in
Mr. Kennedy’s house, which I did both morning and evening. It
was well we did not go to the play-house, for the mob were there,
and seemed more desperate than ever. One of our friends found
a paper stuck up against the play-house door, with these words:
‘_For the benefit of the mob. This evening will be acted at the
theatre, Hell in an Uproar; or, the Furies let loose. The part
of Beelzebub, by Mr. P――――ns: Queen of Hell, by Mrs. L――――w,
etc._’

“After I had done preaching on Sunday evening, and was going
to Rocks Lane, to take my leave of the Society, I was stopped
by the same two constables who imprisoned and released us.
They told me, the mayor had sent them to acquaint me, that I
must meet him and the justices at their quarter sessions on
the morrow, at eleven o’clock. I answered, ‘I cannot, for I am
obliged to go out of town early in the morning.’ They said, if I
would not promise them to be there, they must keep me in custody.
I said, I would wait upon the mayor in half an hour, if they
would appoint a place where I should meet them; which they did.
So I gave a short exhortation to the Society; and then Brother
S―――― and I went with one of the constables to the mayor.

“His worship asked me if my name was Adams. I said, ‘Yes.’ He
asked if I was the preacher. I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Have you qualified
yourself?’ I answered, ‘My qualification and sufficiency are
of the Lord.’ He bid me not tell him of the _Lord_, but to
say whether I had qualified myself according to the Act of
Toleration. I answered, ‘I am not a Dissenter, and therefore
have nothing to do with that Act, being a son of the Church
of England.’ He furiously cried, ‘You are not of the Church,’
and called me several ridiculous names. I said, ‘Sir, you may
call me what you please, but I say I am of the Church; and,
considering myself so, do not know that my proceedings are
illegal.’ He called me several names again, and said I made
collections among the poor people, and got their money from
them. ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I never made a collection amongst them
in my life.’ He persisted in saying that I did; and asked, ‘How
else do you live?’ ‘Sir,’ I said, ‘I have nothing from you;
and I know not why I came here to receive such ill-treatment;’
to which I added, that, ‘I did not apprehend I was under any
obligation at all to come there; for,’ said I, ‘by the same rule
that you stop me on my journey, you may stop any gentleman who
comes on business.’ He answered, ‘Sure you have not the d――――d
impudence to call yourself a gentleman!’ I said, ‘Sir, whether I
be gentle or simple, I am sure you do not use me well; therefore,
I don’t think to stay any longer with you.’ ‘But,’ said he, ‘I
desire you will be at the quarter sessions to-morrow.’ ‘I cannot,’
said I, ‘for I am obliged to go out of town very early in the
morning.’ The constable standing by said, ‘Sir, if you please,
I will keep him in custody till the time.’ ‘Will you?’ said I;
‘you had best know by what authority you touch me. If you act
contrary to law, I shall let you hear of it. Besides,’ I added,
‘you know I have not reckoned with you yet for yesterday’s five
hours’ false imprisonment.’ And so, without offering to stop us
any longer, they let us go.

“When we came out of the mayor’s house into the street, we
found a mob of some hundreds gathered together, who pelted us
with cabbage-stumps, and whatever they could find, until we came
almost to Southgate, which was near a furlong; when one opened
a door, and desired us to come in, which we did. By this time,
I was ready to fall down, by reason of the violent blows I
received on my head, and other parts of my body. O good God,
forgive these cruel men!

“I am to return to the west in a few days. I am filled with
comfort, and not in the least troubled or terrified, though I
expect much opposition, and am persuaded afflictions await me.
O pray for me, my dear, dear friends, that I may be kept near
the Saviour, and may be made bold as a lion, wise as a serpent,
meek as a lamb, and harmless as a dove.”

This is a long account; but it is useful as illustrating the state of some of the first towns in the kingdom a hundred and thirty years ago; and as shewing the cruel persecutions to which Whitefield’s preachers, and the Societies they had gathered, were at that time subjected.

It would be easy to furnish other extracts from the _Christian History_――a book now nearly non-existent; but enough has been written to afford the reader a glimpse――though an imperfect one――of the extent and quality of Whitefield’s brotherhood, when, for the third time, he set sail for America.

_THIRD VISIT TO AMERICA._

AUGUST 1744 TO JUNE 1748.

WHITEFIELD and his wife embarked at Plymouth about August 10, and landed at York, in New England, on October 26. The voyage was long, rough, and dangerous. Six days before his arrival, he wrote:――

“In a week or two after we sailed, we began to have a church
in our ship. Two serious New England friends, finding how I
was served at Portsmouth, came from thence to Plymouth, to bear
me company. We had regular public prayer morning and evening,
frequent communion, and days of humiliation and fasting. Being
time of war, and sailing out with near a hundred and fifty ships,
we had several convoys. Their taking leave of each other, at
their several appointed places, was striking. We have often been
alarmed; once with the sight of a Dutch fleet, which we took for
an enemy; and again at the sight of Admiral Balchen, who rode by
us, receiving the obeisance of the surrounding ships as though
he were lord of the whole ocean. On another occasion, one of
the ships struck her mainsail into our bowsprit. A little after
we came up with the convoy, and our captain informed them of
what had happened. The answer was, ‘This is your praying, and
be damned to you!’ This shocked me more than the striking of the
ships. At another time, we were alarmed with the sight of two
ships, which our captain took to be enemies. The preparations
for an engagement were formidable: guns were mounted, chains put
round the masts, everything taken out of the great cabin, and
hammocks placed about the sides of the ships. All, except myself,
seemed ready for fire and smoke. My wife, after having dressed
herself to prepare for all events, set about making cartridges,
whilst I wanted to go into the holes of the ship, hearing
that was the chaplain’s usual place. I went; but not liking my
situation, I crept upon deck, and, for the first time in my life,
beat up to arms, by a warm exhortation. The apprehended enemy
approached; but, upon a nearer view, we found them to be two
ships going under the same convoy as ourselves.”

Perhaps it will be thought that Whitefield and his fellow-voyagers were more alarmed than hurt. But the narrative is not ended. When near the port of York, a small fishing smack approached them. Being told that the smack would be in port several hours before the ship, Whitefield and others went on board. It soon grew dark. The pilots missed the inlet, and the smack was tossed about all night. Whitefield’s hunger was such, that, to use his own expression, he “could have gnawed the very boards.” The fishermen had nothing eatable, except a few potatoes. Whitefield eagerly devoured them. About half an hour after his arrival at York, he “was put to bed, racked with a nervous colic, and convulsed from his waist down to his toes.” For four days, his life was in danger. Word was sent to Boston, that he was dying. A friend and a physician came, says he, “either to take care of me, or to attend my funeral; but, to their great surprise, they found me in the pulpit.” The truth is, as soon as Whitefield’s pain abated, the minister at York asked him to preach, and, of course, the temptation was too powerful to be resisted.

Not content with this imprudence, he crossed the ferry to Portsmouth, caught cold, had a return of illness, and was taken to the house of Mr. Sherburne.[109] Three physicians attended him, and Colonel Pepperell,[110] with many others, came to condole with him. It so happened, however, that he was announced to preach at Portsmouth the day after his arrival. A substitute was provided: but, when the time for holding the service came, Whitefield suddenly exclaimed, “Doctor, my pains are suspended; by the help of God, I will go and preach, and then come home and die.” He wrote:――

“With some difficulty, I reached the pulpit. All looked quite
surprised. I was as pale as death, and told them they must
look upon me as a dying man; and that I came to bear my dying
testimony to the truths I had formerly preached amongst them,
and to the invisible realities of another world. I continued
an hour in my discourse, and nature was almost exhausted; but,
O what life, what power, spread all around! All seemed to be
melted, and were in tears. Upon my coming home, I was laid on a
bed, upon the ground, near the fire; and I heard them say, ‘He
is gone!’ but God was pleased to order it otherwise. I gradually
recovered; and, soon after, a poor negro woman came, sat down
upon the ground, looked earnestly in my face, and said, ‘Master,
you just go to heaven’s gate; but Jesus Christ said, Get you
down, get you down; you must not come here yet. Go first, and
call more poor negroes.’[111] You will find by this, I am still
alive; and, if spared to be made instrumental in making any
poor dead soul alive to God, I shall rejoice that the all-wise
Redeemer has kept me out of heaven a little longer.”

Whitefield was now thoroughly disabled. Hence the following letter from his wife to a friend in England:――

“PORTSMOUTH, NEW ENGLAND, _November 14, 1744_.

“My dear and honoured master has ordered me to send you an
account of our sorrowful, yet joyful, voyage.

“Our captain and others say, they never saw such a voyage; for
all nature seemed to be turned upside down. We had nothing but
storms, calms, and contrary winds. We frequently expected to go
into eternity. Our own provision was spent; and Mr. Whitefield
was so ill, that he could not take the ship’s provision. The
winds were such that we expected to be driven off the coast,
after we had seen land a week. We prayed to the Lord to send a
boat to take us on shore; and, accordingly, a fishing schooner
came, that had not been out for a long time before. Into it we
went, hoping to get on shore in three or four hours: but the
wind arose, and we were out all night.

“On the morrow, being the 26th of October, we landed, about nine
in the morning, at York; where the Lord was pleased to visit my
dear and honoured master with a nervous colic, which almost took
his life. As soon as he was able to go about, he went out and
preached twice a day, which was too much for him. We came from
York here; and, in the way, he preached in the rain. On reaching
Portsmouth, he preached at candle-light. This laid him up again,
and the next day he was judged to be dangerously ill; but, when
the time he had proposed to preach arrived, finding himself free
from pain, he went out and preached. This had like to have cost
him his life, for he became as cold as a clod. But the Lord was
pleased to hear prayer from him, and he is now in a fair way.

“The Lord is doing great things here. The fields are indeed
ready to the harvest, though there is some opposition. Mr.
Whitefield has written several things, which will be sent as
soon as printed here. We received your letter by Captain Adams,
but Mr. Whitefield has not strength to answer it. He desires
you will send the contents of this to all friends, and tell them
they may expect letters the first opportunity.

“The Lord is with my dear Mr. Whitefield, and has been through
his illness. He says, he was frequently in hopes of entering
his eternal rest; but, since he is longer detained, he is fully
persuaded it will be for the Mediator’s glory. I would enlarge,
but my dear master’s illness, and many other things, oblige me
to subscribe myself your sincere friend and affectionate servant,

“ELIZABETH WHITEFIELD.”[112]

Mrs. Whitefield speaks of “_some opposition_.” What was it? Considerable space will have to be occupied in answering this question. The reader will already have observed that some of the Presbyterian and Congregational ministers of America were as bitterly opposed to Whitefield as were any of the clergy of the Church of England. This will become increasingly manifest by the following details. First of all, however, must be given a rampant letter by a quondam Congregationalist, who was now an Episcopalian of the most fervid type.

Timothy Cutler, after graduating at Harvard College, was ordained in 1709, minister of Stratford, Connecticut, and soon became the most celebrated preacher in the colony. In 1719, he was chosen president of Yale College. Three years afterwards, he renounced his connection with the Congregational churches; and, in consequence, was dismissed from his presidential chair. Embarking for England, he was, in 1723, ordained, first a deacon and then a priest of the Established Church; and, at the same time, was created a doctor of divinity, by the Oxford University. Soon after, he became rector of Christ Church, Boston, where he continued till his death in 1765. Though haughty and overbearing in his manners, he was a man of great ability, and, in addition to his general learning, was one of the best oriental scholars of the age. In the following letter to the Rev. Dr. Zachary Grey, of Houghton Conquest, Bedfordshire, Dr. Cutler, doubtless, represented the Episcopalian animosity too generally cherished by the clergy of New England.

“BOSTON, NEW ENGLAND, _September 24, 1743_.

“Whitefield has plagued us with a witness. It would be
an endless attempt to describe the scene of confusion and
disturbance occasioned by him: the divisions of families,
neighbourhoods, and towns; the contrariety of husbands and wives;
the undutifulness of children and servants; the quarrels among
the teachers; the disorders of the night; the intermission of
labour and business; the neglect of husbandry and the gathering
of the harvest.

“Our presses are for ever teeming with books, and our women with
bastards. Many of the teachers have left their particular cures,
and are strolling about the country. Some have been ordained by
them _evangelizers_. They all have their _armour-bearers_ and
_exhorters_. In many conventicles and places of rendezvous,
there has been chequered work――several preaching, and several
exhorting, or praying, at the same time,――the rest crying, or
laughing, yelping, sprawling, or fainting. This revel, in some
places, has been maintained many days and nights together, with
intermission, and then there were the ‘blessed outpourings of
the Spirit!’

“Some of the _New Lights_[113] have overdone themselves by
ranting and blaspheming, and are quite demolished; others have
extremely weakened their interest, and others are terrified
from going the lengths they are inclined to. On the other hand,
many of the _Old Lights_ (thus are they distinguished) have been
forced to trim, and some have lost their congregations; but they
will soon raise up a new congregation in any new town where they
are opposed. I do not know, but we have fifty, in one place or
other, and some of them large and much frequented.

“When Mr. Whitefield first arrived here, the whole town was
alarmed. He made his first visit to church on a Friday, and
conversed with many of our clergy together, and belied them,
me especially, when he had gone. Being not invited into our
pulpits, the Dissenters were highly pleased, and engrossed him;
and immediately the bells rang, and all hands went to lecture.
This show kept on all the while he was here. The town was ever
alarmed; the streets were filled with people, with coaches, and
chaises――all for the benefit of that holy man. The conventicles
were crowded; but he rather chose the common, where multitudes
might see him in all his awful postures: besides, in one crowded
conventicle, six were killed in a fight before he came in. The
fellow treated the most venerable with an air of superiority;
but he for ever lashed and anathematized the Church of England,
and that was enough.

“After him came one Tennent――a monster! impudent and noisy――and
told them they were all _damned! damned! damned!_ This charmed
them; and, in the most dreadful winter I ever saw, people
wallowed in snow, night and day, for the benefit of his beastly
brayings; and many ended their days under these fatigues. Both
of them carried more money out of these parts than the poor
could be thankful for.”[114]

Another notable opponent must be introduced. The Rev. Charles Chauncy, D.D., was born in Boston, in the year 1705. He entered Harvard College at the age of twelve, and four years afterwards received his first degree. In 1727, he was ordained pastor of the first church in Boston, as colleague of the Rev. Thomas Foxcroft. He died in 1787, in the eighty-third year of his age, and the sixtieth of his ministry. Chauncy was eminent for his learning, was ardently attached to the civil and religious liberties of his country, and strongly objected to State Church establishments. His publications were too numerous to be specified in a work like this. His last days were almost entirely occupied in devotional exercises.