George Whitefield: A Biography, with special reference to his labors in America
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In the mean time, Whitefield had returned to Savannah, and on March 25, he laid the first brick of the main building of the orphan-house, which he called Bethesda, that is, a house of mercy. It was built of wood, and measured seventy feet by forty. By this time nearly forty children had been received, to be provided for with food and raiment; and counting the workmen with these, he had nearly one hundred persons to feed day by day. To do all this he had very little money in the bank; still he was not discouraged, being persuaded that his present duty was to advance the interests of the colony by carrying on his work. "As yet," says he, "I am kept from the least doubting. The more my family increases, the more enlargement and comfort I feel. Set thy almighty fiat to it, O gracious Father, and for thine own name's sake convince us more and more, that thou wilt never forsake those who put their trust in thee." On reviewing this passage fifteen years afterwards, he wrote, "Hitherto, blessed be God, I have not been disappointed of my hope."
We close our present chapter with a very short visit to Charleston. In this city Whitefield had assuredly produced a very extraordinary excitement, and very opposite opinions were entertained in reference to his character and doctrines. On the day after he had laid the first stone of Bethesda, Mr. Smith undertook at Charleston to defend the conduct and character of his beloved friend, in a sermon from Job 32:17: "I said, I will answer also my part; I also will show mine opinion." As this discourse was published during the following June, with a commendatory preface by the Rev. Drs. Colman and Cooper of Boston, and is still highly valued as a piece of contemporary history, we give an extract, particularly as to the manner of the preaching of the great evangelist.
"He is certainly a finished preacher. A noble negligence ran through his style. The passion and flame of his expressions will, I trust, be long felt by many. My pen cannot describe his action and gestures, in all their strength and decencies. He appeared to me, in all his discourses, to be very deeply affected and impressed in his own heart. How did that burn and boil within him, when he spake of the things which he had 'made touching the King.' How was his tongue like the pen of a ready writer, touched as with a coal from the altar. With what a flow of words, what a ready profusion of language, did he speak to us upon the great concerns of our souls. In what a flaming light did he set our eternity before us. How earnestly he pressed Christ upon us. How did he move our passions with the constraining love of such a Redeemer. The awe, the silence, the attention which sat upon the face of the great audience, was an argument how he could reign over all their powers. Many thought he spake as never man spake before him. So charmed were the people with his manner of address, that they shut up their shops, forgot their secular business, and laid aside their schemes for the world; and the oftener he preached, the keener edge he seemed to put upon their desires to hear him again.
"How awfully, with what thunder and sound, did he discharge the artillery of heaven upon us. And yet, how could he soften and melt even a soldier of Ulysses with the mercy of God. How close, strong, and pungent were his applications to the conscience; mingling light and heat; pointing the arrows of the Almighty at the hearts of sinners, while he poured in the balm upon the wounds of the contrite, and made broken bones rejoice. Eternal themes, the tremendous solemnities of our religion, were all alive upon his tongue. So, methinks – if you will forgive the figure – St. Paul would look and speak in a pulpit. In some such manner, I am tempted to conceive of a seraph, were he sent down to preach among us, and to tell us what things he had seen and heard above.
How bold and courageous did he look. He was no flatterer; he would not suffer men to settle on their lees; and did not prophesy smooth things, nor sew pillows under their arms. He taught the way of God in truth, and regarded not the persons of men. He struck at the politest and most modish of our vices, and at the most fashionable entertainments, regardless of every one's presence, but His in whose name he spoke with this authority. And I dare warrant, if none should go to these diversions until they have answered the solemn questions he put to their consciences, our theatre would soon sink and perish. I freely own he has taken my heart."
CHAPTER V.
CONTINUATION OF WHITEFIELD'S SECOND VISIT TO AMERICA.
1740
At the period when Whitefield laid the cornerstone of his Bethesda, his health was much impaired, and his spirits depressed. But it was necessary that funds should be obtained, to meet the claims now daily made upon him. He had received handsome donations from Charleston, New York, and Philadelphia, yet the urgent demand was for more. He therefore embarked from Charleston for Newcastle, Delaware, in a sloop, and arrived there in about ten days. Passing on from thence to Philadelphia, he found the churches closed against him. The commissary told him that he would lend the church to him no more. The laconic answer of Whitefield was, "The fields are open;" and eight thousand people assembled to hear him the same evening, and ten thousand on the following day. On the following Lord's day morning, he collected one hundred and ten pounds sterling for his "poor orphans," and then went to the Episcopal church, where the commissary preached a sermon on justification by works. As Whitefield was recognized at church, it was naturally expected that in the evening he would answer the sermon; nor was the public expectation disappointed. After his sermon, he collected eighty pounds more for Bethesda.
But far higher success than this attended his labors. Societies for worship were commenced in different parts of the town; not a few began seriously to inquire after the way of salvation; many negroes came to the evangelist with the inquiry, "Have I a soul?" and a church was formed, of which the distinguished Gilbert Tennent was the eminently useful pastor. No less than one hundred and forty, who had undergone a previous strict examination as to their personal piety, were received as constituent members of the church, and large additions were from time to time made to their number.
Several events of special interest occurred during this visit to Philadelphia. Tennent had to tell a series of delightful facts as to the usefulness of Whitefield's former labors. He began to deliberate on a plan for a negro school in Pennsylvania, as he did afterwards also in Virginia, but unexpected difficulties intervened, and both in the end were abandoned. Mr. Jones, the Baptist minister of the city, told Whitefield of the change produced by his former preaching on the minds of two ministers; one of whom stated to his congregation that he had hitherto been deceiving both himself and them, and added, that he could not preach to them at present, but requested them to unite in prayer with him; and the other resigned his charge, to itinerate among the unenlightened villages of New Jersey and elsewhere. Another fact was, that an Indian trader became so impressed with the preaching of Whitefield, that he had given up his business, and was gone to teach the Indians with whom he used to trade. Nor had his usefulness stopped here: he heard of a drinking club, which had attached to it a negro boy remarkable for his powers of mimicry. This boy was directed by the gentlemen who composed the club to exercise his powers on Mr. Whitefield: he did so, but very reluctantly; at length he stood up and said, "I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not; unless you repent, you will all be damned." This unexpected speech had such an effect as to break up the club, which met no more.
We add a few paragraphs from Seward's journal, who soon after sailed for England to promote the interests of Georgia, and who died in the parent country. They date from the 24th to the 26th of April. "Came to Christopher Wigner's plantation in Skippack, where many Dutch people are settled, and where the famous Mr. Spalemburg lately resided. It was surprising to see such a multitude of people gathered together in such a wilderness country, thirty miles distant from Philadelphia. Mr. Whitefield was exceedingly carried out, in his sermon, to press poor sinners to come to Christ by faith, and claim all their privileges; namely, not only righteousness and peace, but joy in the Holy Ghost; and after he had done, our dear friend Peter Bohler preached in Dutch, to those who could not understand Mr. Whitefield in English."
"Before Mr. Whitefield left Philadelphia, he was desired to visit one who was under a deep sense of sin, from hearing him preach. In praying with this person, he was so carried beyond himself, that the whole company, about twenty, seemed to be filled with the Holy Ghost, and magnified the God of heaven."
"Arose at three o'clock, and though Mr. Whitefield was very weak in body, yet the Lord enabled him to ride nearly fifty miles, and to preach to about five thousand people at Amwell, with the same power as usual. Mr. Gilbert Tennent, Mr. Rowland, Mr. Wales, and Mr. Campbell, four godly ministers, met us here."
"Came to New Brunswick. Met Mr. Noble from New York, a zealous promoter of our Lord's kingdom. He said their society at New York was enlarged from seventy to one hundred and seventy, and was daily increasing; and that Messrs. Gilbert and William Tennent, Mr. Rowland, and several others, were hard laborers in our Lord's vineyard."
It will be readily supposed that by this time Whitefield and his movements had become so much a matter of interest as to be frequently discussed in the newspapers of the day.
The "New England Weekly Journal" of April 29, 1740, copies from a Philadelphia paper of April 17: "The middle of last month the Rev. Mr. Whitefield was at Charleston, and preached five times, and collected at one time upwards of £70 sterling for the benefit of the orphan-house in Georgia; and on Sunday last, after ten days' passage from Georgia, he landed at Newcastle, where he preached morning and evening. On Monday morning he preached to about three thousand at Wilmington, and in the evening arrived in this city. On Tuesday evening he preached to about eight thousand on Society hill, and preached at the same place yesterday morning and evening." Then follows a list of his appointments daily to April 29, during which time he was to preach at Whitemarsh, Germantown, Philadelphia, Salem, N. J., Neshaminy, Skippack, Frederick township, Amwell, New Brunswick, Elizabethtown, and New York. On May 6th, the Journal copied a Philadelphia notice of April 24th, that he had preached on the previous Sabbath to fifteen thousand hearers, and on Monday at Greenwich and Gloucester, and that he would return to Georgia before visiting New England.
The Journal of May 20th, contains a letter from Whitefield to a friend in England, dated New Brunswick, N. J., April 27. Of his visit to Charleston he says, "A glorious work was begun in the hearts of the inhabitants, and many were brought to cry out, 'What shall we do to be saved?' A fortnight ago, after a short passage of ten days, I landed in Pennsylvania, and have had the pleasure of seeing and hearing that my poor endeavors for promoting Christ's kingdom, when here last, were not altogether in vain in the Lord. I cannot tell you how many have come to me laboring under the deepest convictions, and seemingly truly desirous of finding rest in Jesus Christ. Several have actually received him into their hearts by faith, and have not only righteousness and peace, but joy in the Holy Ghost. In short, the word has run and been much glorified, and many negroes also are in a fair way of being brought home to God. Young ones I intend to buy, and do not despair of seeing a room full of that despised generation, in a short time, singing and making melody with grace in their hearts to the Lord.
"An effectual door is opened for preaching the everlasting gospel, and I daily receive fresh and most importunate invitations to preach in all the counties round about. God is pleased to give a great blessing to my printed sermons. They are in the hands of thousands in these parts, and are a means of enlightening and building up many in their most holy faith. The clergy, I find, are most offended at me. The commissary of Philadelphia, having gotten a little stronger than when I was here last, has thrown off the mask, denied me the pulpit, and last Sunday preached up an historical faith, and justification by works. But the people only flock the more. The power of God is more visible than ever in our assemblies, and more and more are convinced that I preach the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Some of the bigoted, self-righteous Quakers now also begin to spit out a little of the venom of the serpent. They cannot bear the doctrine of original sin, and of an imputed righteousness as the cause of our acceptance with God. I have not yet met with much opposition from the dissenters; but when I come to tell many of them, ministers as well as people, that they hold the truth in unrighteousness, that they talk and preach of justifying faith, but never felt it in their hearts, as I am persuaded numbers of them have not, then they no doubt will shoot out their arrows, even bitter words."
While on his voyage from Charleston to Newcastle, Whitefield seems to have devoted the 4th of April, 1740, to correspondence on the subject of marriage. "I find," said he, "by experience, that a mistress is absolutely necessary for the due management of my increasing family, and to take off some of that care which at present lies upon me." His letters were addressed to a young lady and her parents, connected with a family much devoted to piety. Here, as everywhere else, his heart is transparent. He says to the parents of Miss E – , "I write only because I believe it is the will of God that I should alter my state; but your denial will fully convince me that your daughter is not the person appointed for me. He knows my heart; I would not marry but for him, and in him, for ten thousand worlds."
The next year, having returned to England, Whitefield, like his eminent friend John Wesley, was married, and, like him also, was unhappy in his domestic relation. In each case, the husband exacted a previous pledge that the wife should never prevent the delivery of a single sermon; and this was followed by separation from the wife for weeks, months, or even years, in the prosecution of their arduous labors. In the case of Whitefield, his marriage in Wales, with a widow lady, in 1741, was followed by the birth of a son; previous to which event he had said, in the joy of his heart, that his name should be John, and that he should be a preacher of the everlasting gospel. The first prediction was realized, and when his child was a week old, the good man told his people in the Tabernacle, London, that he would live to preach, and "be great in the sight of the Lord." But alas, at the end of four months John died, and his father very wisely wrote in his journal: "I hope what happened before his birth, and since at his death, has taught me such lessons as, if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more sober-minded, more experienced in Satan's devices, and consequently more useful in his future labors in the church of God."
On the death of his wife somewhat suddenly, August 9, 1768, Mr. Whitefield himself preached her funeral sermon, from Romans 8:28: "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to his purpose." In describing her character, he particularly mentioned her fortitude and courage, and suddenly exclaimed, "Do you remember my preaching in those fields by the stump of the old tree? The multitude was great, and many were disposed to be riotous. At first I addressed them with firmness; but when a gang of desperate banditti drew near, with the most ferocious looks, 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" – himself suiting the action to the word, by placing his hand behind him and touching his robe – "and looking up, said, 'George, play the man for your God.' My confidence returned. I again spoke to the multitude with boldness and affection; they became still; and many were deeply affected."
Before we leave Philadelphia, we may relate an instance or two as to the power of his eloquence. Dr. Franklin says, "He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words so perfectly that he might be heard and understood to a great distance; especially as his auditors observed the most profound silence. He preached one evening from the top of the court-house steps, which are in the middle of Market-street, and on the west side of Second-street, which crosses it at right angles. Both streets were filled with his hearers to a considerable distance. Being among the hindmost in Market-street, I had the curiosity to learn how far he might be heard by setting backwards down the street towards the river; and I found his voice distinct till I came near Front-street, where some noise in that street obstructed it. Imagine, then, a semicircle of which my distance should be a radius, and that it was filled with auditors, to each of whom I allowed two square feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty thousand people."
But not only does Franklin bear witness of Whitefield's eloquence as to his voice, but still more strongly as to its persuasiveness, of which, it seems, he was himself a striking illustration. He says, "I refused to contribute to his orphan-house in Georgia, thinking it injudiciously located. Soon after, I happened to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften, and determined to give the copper. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this sermon there was also one of our club; who being of my sentiments respecting the building at Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before he came from home. Towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbor, who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose. The request was made to, perhaps, the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, 'At any other time, friend Hodgkinson, I would lend to thee freely; but not now, for thee seems to be out of thy right senses.'"
Whitefield, much as he loved Philadelphia, had now again to leave it. Thus writes the correspondent of the "New England Weekly Journal," at Newcastle, May 15: "This evening Mr. Whitefield went on board his sloop here, to sail for Georgia. On Sunday he preached twice In Philadelphia, and in the evening, when he preached his farewell sermon, it is supposed he had twenty thousand hearers. On Monday he preached at Darby and Chester; on Tuesday, at Wilmington and White Clay creek; on Wednesday, twice at Nottingham; on Thursday, at Fog's Manor and Newcastle. The congregations were much increased since his being here last. The presence of God was much seen in the assemblies, especially at Nottingham and Fog's Manor, where the people were under such deep soul distress, that their cries almost drowned his voice. He has collected in this and the neighboring provinces, about £450 sterling for his orphans in Georgia."
He arrived at Savannah June 5, and most interesting was the manner of his reception. He says, "O what a sweet meeting I had with my dear friends! What God has prepared for me, I know not; but surely I cannot well expect a greater happiness, till I embrace the saints in glory. When I parted, my heart was ready to break with sorrow; but now it almost bursts with joy. O how did each in turn hang upon my neck, kiss, and weep over me with tears of joy! And my own soul was so full of a sense of God's love when I embraced one friend in particular, that I thought I should have expired in the place. I felt my soul so full of a sense of the divine goodness, that I wanted words to express myself. Why me, Lord; why me? When we came to public worship, young and old were all dissolved in tears. After service, several of my parishioners, all my family, and the little children, returned home, crying along the streets, and some could not avoid praying very loud.
"Being very weak in body, I laid myself upon a bed; but finding so many weeping, I rose and betook myself to prayer again. But had I not lifted up my voice very high, the groans and cries of the children would have prevented my being heard. This continued for near an hour; till at last, finding their concern rather increase than abate, I desired all to retire. Then some or other might be heard praying earnestly, in every corner of the house. It happened at this time to thunder and lighten, which added very much to the solemnity of the night. Next day the concern still continued, especially among the girls. I mention the orphans in particular, that their benefactors may rejoice in what God is doing for their souls."
On the 7th of June, he wrote, "I have brought with me a Latin master, and on Monday laid the foundation, in the name of the Lord Jesus, for a university in Georgia." On the 28th of the same month, he wrote to a Mr. W. D – , in a style admirably corresponding with the meek spirit we have already seen in his letter to the Rev. Dr. Pemberton, of New York. "I thank you for your kind letters and friendly cautions; and I trust I shall always reckon those my choicest friends, who, in simplicity and meekness, tell me the corruptions of my heart. It is that faithfulness which has endeared J. S – to me. I think I never was obliged to any one so much before. O my dear brother, still continue faithful to my soul; do not hate me in your heart; in any wise reprove me. Exhort all my brethren to forgive my past, I fear, too imperious carriage; and let them pray that I may know myself to be, what I really am, less than the least of them all."
Whitefield's family at Bethesda had now increased to not less than one hundred and fifty persons, and to advance their interests, it was needful that he should again visit Charleston, where he arrived on the third of July, and immediately commenced preaching, as on former visits. On the following Sabbath, three days after his arrival, he attended the Episcopal church, where, he says, "I heard the commissary preach as virulent and unorthodox, inconsistent a discourse, as ever I heard in my life. His heart seemed full of choler and resentment. Out of the abundance thereof, he poured forth so many bitter words against the Methodists, as he called them, in general, and me in particular, that several who intended to receive the sacrament at his hands, withdrew. Never, I believe, was such a preparation sermon preached before. After sermon, he sent his clerk to desire me not to come to the sacrament till he had spoken with me. I immediately retired to my lodgings, rejoicing that I was accounted worthy to suffer this further degree of contempt for my dear Lord's sake."
The next day, the commissary of the bishop of London issued against Whitefield the following ecclesiastical writ:
"Alexander Garden, lawfully constituted Commissary of the Right Reverend Father in Christ, Edmund, by divine permission Lord Bishop of London, supported by the royal authority underwritten:
"Alexander Garden, To all and singular clerks, and literate persons whomsoever, in and throughout the whole province of South Carolina, wheresoever appointed, Greeting:
"To you, conjunctly and severally, we commit, and strictly enjoining, command, that you do cite, or cause to be cited, peremptorily, George Whitefield, clerk, and presbyter of the Church of England, that he lawfully appear before us, in the parish church of St. Philip, Charleston, and in the judicial place of the same, on Tuesday, the fifteenth day of this instant July, 'twixt the hours of nine and ten in the forenoon, then and there in justice to answer to certain articles, heads, or interrogatories, which will be objected and ministered unto him concerning the mere health of his soul, and the reformation and correction of his manners and excesses, and chiefly for omitting to use the form of prayers prescribed in the Communion-Book; and further to do and receive what shall be just in that behalf, on pain of law and contempt. And what you shall do in the premises, you shall duly certify us, together with these presents.