Here we must pause. Whitefield evidently considered this to be the time of his conversion. The date was about seven weeks after Easter, in the year 1735. This was three years before the Wesley brothers professed to receive the same blessing. In fact, young Whitefield seems to have been the first of the Oxford Methodists who attained to the experience expressed in Romans viii. 15, 16: "Ye have not received the Spirit of bondage, again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ." It cannot be denied that Whitefield's first account of the way in which he obtained this gift of God is tinged with fanaticism. Thesecond and revised account, published sixteen years afterwards, is unobjectionable. Oppressed with a sense of sin, and buffeted by Satan, the young servitor laid hold of Christ "by a living faith," received "the spirit of adoption," was blessed with "a sense of the pardoning love of God," and filled with "joy unspeakable" and "big with glory."
Whitefield's history of his college life, especially the first edition of it, brought upon him the scathing criticisms of both friends and foes. The recital of his diabolical buffetings is more minute than sensible, and was sure to excite the sarcastic laughter of men like Lavington. The taciturnity which came over him is neither to be desired nor commended. His religious jargon, partly bracketed and partly otherwise, is not "good to the use of edifying." The lengthy descriptions of his fastings, prayers, and devotions have a somewhat pharisaic tinge. But, notwithstanding all these animadversions, this section of Whitefield's autobiography is useful and important. Throughout, it exhibits the spirit, the principles, and the practices of the Oxford Methodists. It shows that college life at Oxford was profligately wicked, and that men like the Oxford Methodists were greatly needed. It reveals the significant and momentous fact that the work of God was not confined to the Oxford University, for, in his way, young Whitefield was intensely religious before he left his home at Gloucester. The omnipresent Spirit was preparing men for a great work in different places—not only in Oxford and Gloucester, but, as will be seen hereafter, in various parts of the United Kingdom, and even across the Atlantic.
"When I was sixteen years of age," said Whitefield, a few months before he died, "I began to fast twice a week for thirty-six hours together, prayed many times a day, received the sacrament every Sabbath, fasted myself almost to death all the forty days of Lent, during which I made it a point of duty never to go less than three times a day to public worship, besides seven times a day to my private prayers; yet I knew no more that I was to be born a new creature in Christ Jesus, than if I had never been born at all. I had a mind to be upon the stage, but then I had a qualm of conscience. I used to ask people, 'Pray can I be a player, and yet go to sacrament, and be a Christian?' 'O,' said they, 'such a one, who is a player, goes to sacrament; though, according to the law of the land, no player should receive the sacrament unless he gives proof that he repents; that was Archbishop Tillotson's doctrine.' 'Well then,' said I, 'if that bethe case, I will be a player;' and I thought to act my part for the devil as well as anybody. But, blessed be God, He stopped me in my career. I must bear testimony to my old friend, Mr. Charles Wesley. He put a book into my hands, called 'The Life of God in the Soul of Man,' whereby God showed me that I must be born again or be damned. I know the place; it may perhaps be superstitious, but, whenever I go to Oxford, I cannot help running to the spot where Jesus Christ first revealed Himself to me, and gave me the new birth. I learned that a man may go to church, say his prayers, receive the sacrament, and yet not be a Christian. How did my heart rise and shudder like a poor man that is afraid to look into his ledger, lest he should find himself a bankrupt. 'Shall I burn this book? Shall I throw it down? Or shall I search it?' I did search it; and, holding the book in my hand, thus addressed the God of heaven and earth: 'Lord, if I am not a Christian, for Jesus Christ's sake show me what Christianity is, that I may not be damned at last.' I read a little further, and discovered that they who know anything of religion know it is a vital union with the Son of God—Christ formed in the heart. O what a ray of Divine life did then break in upon my soul! I fell a writing to all my brethren and to my sisters. I talked to the students as they came into my room. I laid aside all trifling conversation. I put all trifling books away, and was determined to study to be a saint, and then to be a scholar. From that moment God has been carrying on His blessed work in my soul. I am now fifty-five years of age, and shall leave you in a few days; but I tell you, my brethren, I am more and more convinced that this is the truth of God, and that without it you can never be saved by Jesus Christ."[28]
"When I was sixteen years of age," said Whitefield, a few months before he died, "I began to fast twice a week for thirty-six hours together, prayed many times a day, received the sacrament every Sabbath, fasted myself almost to death all the forty days of Lent, during which I made it a point of duty never to go less than three times a day to public worship, besides seven times a day to my private prayers; yet I knew no more that I was to be born a new creature in Christ Jesus, than if I had never been born at all. I had a mind to be upon the stage, but then I had a qualm of conscience. I used to ask people, 'Pray can I be a player, and yet go to sacrament, and be a Christian?' 'O,' said they, 'such a one, who is a player, goes to sacrament; though, according to the law of the land, no player should receive the sacrament unless he gives proof that he repents; that was Archbishop Tillotson's doctrine.' 'Well then,' said I, 'if that bethe case, I will be a player;' and I thought to act my part for the devil as well as anybody. But, blessed be God, He stopped me in my career. I must bear testimony to my old friend, Mr. Charles Wesley. He put a book into my hands, called 'The Life of God in the Soul of Man,' whereby God showed me that I must be born again or be damned. I know the place; it may perhaps be superstitious, but, whenever I go to Oxford, I cannot help running to the spot where Jesus Christ first revealed Himself to me, and gave me the new birth. I learned that a man may go to church, say his prayers, receive the sacrament, and yet not be a Christian. How did my heart rise and shudder like a poor man that is afraid to look into his ledger, lest he should find himself a bankrupt. 'Shall I burn this book? Shall I throw it down? Or shall I search it?' I did search it; and, holding the book in my hand, thus addressed the God of heaven and earth: 'Lord, if I am not a Christian, for Jesus Christ's sake show me what Christianity is, that I may not be damned at last.' I read a little further, and discovered that they who know anything of religion know it is a vital union with the Son of God—Christ formed in the heart. O what a ray of Divine life did then break in upon my soul! I fell a writing to all my brethren and to my sisters. I talked to the students as they came into my room. I laid aside all trifling conversation. I put all trifling books away, and was determined to study to be a saint, and then to be a scholar. From that moment God has been carrying on His blessed work in my soul. I am now fifty-five years of age, and shall leave you in a few days; but I tell you, my brethren, I am more and more convinced that this is the truth of God, and that without it you can never be saved by Jesus Christ."[28]
Nothing more need be said on the subject of Whitefield's conversion. The reader now has Whitefield's own testimonies at three different periods of his life. The accounts might have been clearer, more precise, and perhaps more scripturally expressed; but the fact is patent: Whitefield was converted—regenerated—born again—in the year 1735. Or, perhaps, to speak more correctly, it was in 1735, that, through a penitent, heartfelt trust in Christ, he received "the Spirit of adoption," God sending "forth the Spirit of His Son into his heart, crying, Abba, Father."
For five years, Whitefield had been a sincere and earnest penitent. Like all the other Oxford Methodists, he sought salvation, not by simple, heartfelt faith in Christ, but by self-denial, ardent piety, and the practice of good works. No wonder that he was destitute of the joy arising from a firmand full assurance of acceptance with God. The man relying on his own piety and beneficence must necessarily live a joyless, anxious, and almost miserable life; because he knows and feels that much in his past career has been absolutely wicked; and because, however sincere his present piety, and however commendable his good works, he knows that, at the best, they are exceedingly imperfect, and, so far from meriting the Divine favour, and atoning for the iniquities of other days, actually need the forgiveness of a long-suffering God. No man of this description can be happy. But it is far otherwise with the penitent, who, while diligently using all the means of grace, and to the utmost of his power endeavouring to serve both God and man, obeys Scripture teaching by firmly believing that the death of Christ was a full atonement forhis sins, even his, and by trusting solely and exclusively in that astounding but scripturally revealed fact for acceptance with God, both in this world and in that which is to come. Let a man attain to such a faith as this, or rather let him be blessed with such a blessing (for faith is a Divine gift as well as a human act), and he cannot fail to be filled, as Whitefield was, with "joy unspeakable and full of glory." Even his love to God, also, becomes what it had never been before, inasmuch as he now, in the death of Christ, sees God's love manifested to himself as it is manifested nowhere else. Love kindles love, and the man serves his Maker, not merely because it is his duty, but because he cannot help it, love making his duty his delight. With such a belief concerning the death of Christ, and such a trust in it, his faith in God, in Providence, in the blessed Bible as a whole, is of necessity higher, holier, stronger, broader, firmer than it ever could be without such a belief and trust; and the same may also be said respecting hope, and all the other Divine gifts and Christian virtues possessed and exercised by the genuinely converted man.
It was not until the year 1735 that Whitefield attained to such a state as this; and three more years elapsed before his friends and religious preceptors, John and Charles Wesley, were brought to the same self-renunciating crisis, and were enabled by the Holy Spirit to trust simply and solely in the blood of Christ for personal, present, and endless salvation.
From this point in their history, all the three were "new creatures in Christ Jesus." This will be seen hereafter; but, before proceeding further, it may be instructive and profitable to look at them again in their transition period. Pietists more sincere and earnest never lived; and yet none of them were happy. They were ready to do and almost to suffer anything and everything that would be conducive to the Divine honour; and yet they were in doubt and darkness respecting their being blessed with the Divine favour. The reason of this perplexed them. To others it is obvious. The language of St. Paul concerning the Jews may, with perfect propriety, be applied to the Oxford Methodists: "I bear them record that they have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. For they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God."
The following extracts from letters, written by Whitefield during the twelve months immediately preceding his conversion, will not only help to elucidate his character, but will also confirm what has just been said respecting the principles, and piety, and personal experience of the Oxford Methodists at this important period of their history.
On the death of a young friend, Whitefield wrote:—
"Oxon, July 18, 1734. I envy him his blessed condition. He, unquestionably, is divinely blessed, whilst we are still left behind to wrestle with unruly passions, and, by a continued looking unto Jesus and running in our Christian race, to press forward to that high prize of which he, dear youth, is now in full fruition.""Bristol, September 10, 1734. You tell me Mr. P. wants to know my quality, state, condition, and circumstances. Alas! that any one should enquire after such a wretch as I am. However, since he has been so kind, pray tell him that, as for my quality, I was a poor, mean drawer, but, by the distinguishing grace of God, am now intended for the ministry; as for my estate, that I am a servitor; and as to my condition and circumstances, that I have not of my own anywhere to lay my head, but my friends, by God's providence, minister daily to me; and, in return for such unmerited, unspeakable blessings, I trust the same good Being will give me grace to dedicate myself without reserve to His service.""Oxon, September 17, 1734. We must make a great progress in religion, to be inured, by frequent prayer and meditation, to the ecstaticcontemplation of heavenly objects, before we can arrive at true heavenly-mindedness; and perhaps, after all our endeavours, whilst our souls are immersed in these fleshly tabernacles, we shall make but very small advances in so delightful and glorious an undertaking. But believe me, sir, you cannot imagine how vastly serviceable the constant use of all the means of religion will be in acquiring this blessed habit of mind: such as an early rising in the morning, public and private prayer, a due temperance in all things, and frequent meditation on the infinite love and purity of that unparalleled pattern of all perfection, our dear Redeemer. As for your mentioning the degeneracy of the age as an objection against our making further advances in any religious improvement, I cannot by any means admit of it. The Scriptures are to be the only rules of action, and the examples of our blessed Lord and His Apostles the grand patterns whereby we are to form the conduct of our lives. It is true, indeed, that instances of exalted piety are rarely to be met with in the present age, and if we were to take an estimate of religion from the lives of most of its professors, one would think that Christianity was nothing but a dead letter. But then it is not our religion, but ourselves that are to be blamed for this. Would we live as the primitive Christians did, we might, no doubt, have the same assistance vouchsafed us as they had. God's grace is never restrained. And though we should not arrive at those heights of heavenly-mindedness, for which some of the primitive Christians were eminent, yet we should imitate them as far as we can, and rely on the Divine goodness for grants of such a supply of grace as He, in His good pleasure, shall judge most convenient for us. Be pleased to send for Mr. Law's 'Christian Perfection' for me against my coming into the country, if printed in a small edition.""Oxon, December 4, 1734. I am heartily glad that 'The Country Parson'[29]has had so good an effect upon you. The 'Prayers' I hope to send you next week. Only let me give you this caution, not to depend upon any advice or book that is given you, but solely on the grace of God attending it. The book which I have sent to my brother, and would recommend to you and all my Gloucester friends, will soon convince you how dangerous it is to be a lukewarm Christian, and that there is nothing to be done without breaking from the world, denying ourselves daily, taking up our cross, and following Jesus Christ. These things may seem a little terrible at first; but, believe me, mortification itself, when once practised, is the greatest pleasure in the world.""Oxon, February 20, 1735. I am surprised that you should have desired that 'Collection of Prayers,'[30]and be wholly unconcerned about them ever after. Indeed, they will be of no service to you, unless you grant me this one postulatum: 'that we must renounce ourselves.' What the meaning of this phrase may be, the preface to the Prayers will best informyou. I did not doubt of its meeting with but a cold reception, it being at first view so very contrary to flesh and blood. For, perhaps, you may think that this renouncing of ourselves must necessarily lead us (as it certainly does) to acts of self-denial and mortification; and that we probably may be saved without them. And lest you should after all imagine that true religion consists in anything besides an entire renewal of our nature into the image of God, I have sent you a book entitled 'The Life of God in the Soul of Man,' which will inform you what true religion is, and by what means you may attain it; as, likewise, how wretchedly most people err in their sentiments about it, who suppose it to be nothing else but a mere model of outward performances, without ever considering that all our corrupt passions must be subdued, and a complex habit of virtues, such as meekness, lowliness, faith, hope, and the love of God and of man, be implanted in their room, before we can have the least title to enter into the kingdom of God; our Divine Master having expressly told us that 'unless we renounce ourselves, and take up our cross daily, we cannot be His disciples.' I shall be glad to hear whether you keep up morning prayers, and how often you receive the Holy Communion, there being nothing which so much be-dwarfs us in religion as starving our souls by keeping away from the heavenly banquet.""Oxon, March 6, 1735. I find, by what I can gather from your own and my brother's expressions, that my late letters have met with but a cold reception, and that you seem desirous of hearing no more of so seemingly ungrateful a subject as submitting our wills to the will of God, which is all that is implied in the phrase ofrenouncing ourselves. Alas, sir! what is there that appears so monstrously terrible in a doctrine that is the constant subject of our prayers, whenever we put up the petition, 'Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven;' the import of which seems to be this: 1. That we do everything that God wills, and nothing but what He wills; 2. That we do everything He wills,onlyin themannerHe wills; 3. That we do those things He wills, onlybecauseHe wills. This is all I have been endeavouring to inculcate in my late letters. Dear sir, be not dismayed. The difficulty lies only in our first setting out. Be but vigorous at the first onset, and never fear a conquest. The renewal of our nature is a work of great importance. It is not to be done in a day; we have not only a new house to build up, but an old one to pull down. The means which are necessary to be used in order to attain this end, our cursed adversary the devil would represent to us in the most hideous forms imaginable; but, believe me, sir, there is really more pleasure in these formidable duties of self-denial and mortification, than in the highest indulgences of the greatest epicure upon earth."
"Oxon, July 18, 1734. I envy him his blessed condition. He, unquestionably, is divinely blessed, whilst we are still left behind to wrestle with unruly passions, and, by a continued looking unto Jesus and running in our Christian race, to press forward to that high prize of which he, dear youth, is now in full fruition."
"Bristol, September 10, 1734. You tell me Mr. P. wants to know my quality, state, condition, and circumstances. Alas! that any one should enquire after such a wretch as I am. However, since he has been so kind, pray tell him that, as for my quality, I was a poor, mean drawer, but, by the distinguishing grace of God, am now intended for the ministry; as for my estate, that I am a servitor; and as to my condition and circumstances, that I have not of my own anywhere to lay my head, but my friends, by God's providence, minister daily to me; and, in return for such unmerited, unspeakable blessings, I trust the same good Being will give me grace to dedicate myself without reserve to His service."
"Oxon, September 17, 1734. We must make a great progress in religion, to be inured, by frequent prayer and meditation, to the ecstaticcontemplation of heavenly objects, before we can arrive at true heavenly-mindedness; and perhaps, after all our endeavours, whilst our souls are immersed in these fleshly tabernacles, we shall make but very small advances in so delightful and glorious an undertaking. But believe me, sir, you cannot imagine how vastly serviceable the constant use of all the means of religion will be in acquiring this blessed habit of mind: such as an early rising in the morning, public and private prayer, a due temperance in all things, and frequent meditation on the infinite love and purity of that unparalleled pattern of all perfection, our dear Redeemer. As for your mentioning the degeneracy of the age as an objection against our making further advances in any religious improvement, I cannot by any means admit of it. The Scriptures are to be the only rules of action, and the examples of our blessed Lord and His Apostles the grand patterns whereby we are to form the conduct of our lives. It is true, indeed, that instances of exalted piety are rarely to be met with in the present age, and if we were to take an estimate of religion from the lives of most of its professors, one would think that Christianity was nothing but a dead letter. But then it is not our religion, but ourselves that are to be blamed for this. Would we live as the primitive Christians did, we might, no doubt, have the same assistance vouchsafed us as they had. God's grace is never restrained. And though we should not arrive at those heights of heavenly-mindedness, for which some of the primitive Christians were eminent, yet we should imitate them as far as we can, and rely on the Divine goodness for grants of such a supply of grace as He, in His good pleasure, shall judge most convenient for us. Be pleased to send for Mr. Law's 'Christian Perfection' for me against my coming into the country, if printed in a small edition."
"Oxon, December 4, 1734. I am heartily glad that 'The Country Parson'[29]has had so good an effect upon you. The 'Prayers' I hope to send you next week. Only let me give you this caution, not to depend upon any advice or book that is given you, but solely on the grace of God attending it. The book which I have sent to my brother, and would recommend to you and all my Gloucester friends, will soon convince you how dangerous it is to be a lukewarm Christian, and that there is nothing to be done without breaking from the world, denying ourselves daily, taking up our cross, and following Jesus Christ. These things may seem a little terrible at first; but, believe me, mortification itself, when once practised, is the greatest pleasure in the world."
"Oxon, February 20, 1735. I am surprised that you should have desired that 'Collection of Prayers,'[30]and be wholly unconcerned about them ever after. Indeed, they will be of no service to you, unless you grant me this one postulatum: 'that we must renounce ourselves.' What the meaning of this phrase may be, the preface to the Prayers will best informyou. I did not doubt of its meeting with but a cold reception, it being at first view so very contrary to flesh and blood. For, perhaps, you may think that this renouncing of ourselves must necessarily lead us (as it certainly does) to acts of self-denial and mortification; and that we probably may be saved without them. And lest you should after all imagine that true religion consists in anything besides an entire renewal of our nature into the image of God, I have sent you a book entitled 'The Life of God in the Soul of Man,' which will inform you what true religion is, and by what means you may attain it; as, likewise, how wretchedly most people err in their sentiments about it, who suppose it to be nothing else but a mere model of outward performances, without ever considering that all our corrupt passions must be subdued, and a complex habit of virtues, such as meekness, lowliness, faith, hope, and the love of God and of man, be implanted in their room, before we can have the least title to enter into the kingdom of God; our Divine Master having expressly told us that 'unless we renounce ourselves, and take up our cross daily, we cannot be His disciples.' I shall be glad to hear whether you keep up morning prayers, and how often you receive the Holy Communion, there being nothing which so much be-dwarfs us in religion as starving our souls by keeping away from the heavenly banquet."
"Oxon, March 6, 1735. I find, by what I can gather from your own and my brother's expressions, that my late letters have met with but a cold reception, and that you seem desirous of hearing no more of so seemingly ungrateful a subject as submitting our wills to the will of God, which is all that is implied in the phrase ofrenouncing ourselves. Alas, sir! what is there that appears so monstrously terrible in a doctrine that is the constant subject of our prayers, whenever we put up the petition, 'Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven;' the import of which seems to be this: 1. That we do everything that God wills, and nothing but what He wills; 2. That we do everything He wills,onlyin themannerHe wills; 3. That we do those things He wills, onlybecauseHe wills. This is all I have been endeavouring to inculcate in my late letters. Dear sir, be not dismayed. The difficulty lies only in our first setting out. Be but vigorous at the first onset, and never fear a conquest. The renewal of our nature is a work of great importance. It is not to be done in a day; we have not only a new house to build up, but an old one to pull down. The means which are necessary to be used in order to attain this end, our cursed adversary the devil would represent to us in the most hideous forms imaginable; but, believe me, sir, there is really more pleasure in these formidable duties of self-denial and mortification, than in the highest indulgences of the greatest epicure upon earth."
These are fair specimens of Whitefield's letters at this period of his history. He and the other Oxford Methodists were profoundly sincere and earnest; but they were legalists, trying to save themselves, instead of seeking to be saved by Christ. Their aim was to subdue their "corruptpassions," and to produce within themselves the virtues of "meekness, lowliness, faith, hope, and the love of God and man." The means used to accomplish this aim were public and private worship, "acts of self-denial and mortification," and the practice of good works. There is not a word in Whitefield's letters respecting justification by faith in the atoning sacrifice of the Divine Redeemer; and not a word respecting the great fact that it is the sole work of the Holy Spirit to subdue and destroy the "corrupt passions" of the sinner, and to plant within him "the mind which was in Christ Jesus." The men were morose ascetics rather than happy Christians.
Henceforward, the tone of Whitefield's letters is different. Thenew birthbecomes a constant topic. The man, hitherto so gloomy and taciturn, is jubilant. His doleful and long-continuedmiserereis exchanged for songs of praise and thanksgiving. Hence the following, written immediately after his conversion:—
"Bristol, June 12, 1735. Were not your sighs on Sunday last some infant strugglings after thenew birth? Surely they were; and I trust ere long the Holy Ghost will replenish your heart with comfort and peace. Methinks I would willingly undergo the pangs, so you might enjoy the pleasures, of the new birth; but this must not be. All we can do is to sympathise with and pray for each other.""Bristol, September 5, 1735. I hope to feast with you at Crypt[31]next Sunday. Amazing, that ever sinners should sit with their Saviour! To what dignity has Christ exalted human nature! If Mr. Pauncefort's petitions for me ran after this manner, I should be thankful: 'That God would finish the good which He has begun in me; that I may never seek nor be fond of worldly preferment, but employ those talents it shall please God to entrust me with, to His glory and the Church's good; and likewise that the endeavours of my friends to revive true religion in the world may meet with proper success."
"Bristol, June 12, 1735. Were not your sighs on Sunday last some infant strugglings after thenew birth? Surely they were; and I trust ere long the Holy Ghost will replenish your heart with comfort and peace. Methinks I would willingly undergo the pangs, so you might enjoy the pleasures, of the new birth; but this must not be. All we can do is to sympathise with and pray for each other."
"Bristol, September 5, 1735. I hope to feast with you at Crypt[31]next Sunday. Amazing, that ever sinners should sit with their Saviour! To what dignity has Christ exalted human nature! If Mr. Pauncefort's petitions for me ran after this manner, I should be thankful: 'That God would finish the good which He has begun in me; that I may never seek nor be fond of worldly preferment, but employ those talents it shall please God to entrust me with, to His glory and the Church's good; and likewise that the endeavours of my friends to revive true religion in the world may meet with proper success."
Thus, as early as June 12, 1735, Whitefield began to write concerning "the pangs and the pleasures of the new birth." How was it that he was not the means of leading the Wesley brothers into the enjoyment of the same Divine blessing? A sufficient answer to this is found in the fact that Whitefield was now absent from Oxford, that fourmonths afterwards Wesley and his brother set sail for America, and that a long space of time elapsed before the three friends were again united.
Whitefield needed rest. He had kept nine terms at Oxford, and had not availed himself of a single vacation. Perhaps for want of money, he had not left Oxford since the time he entered it. His health, however, was now so seriously affected, that recreation became imperative. Accordingly, about the end of the month of May, he, for the first time, left the University, and returned to his friends at Gloucester. One of his earliest letters, written during his rustication, was addressed to his friend Wesley, and is too full of interesting gossip to be omitted. It will also fitly close the present chapter of Whitefield's history.
"Gloucester,June 11, 1735."Rev. Sir,—I should have taken the freedom of writing to you ere now, had I imagined you were returned to Oxford, or had my affairs been in any settled way; but really, sir, I have been so tossed up and down by variety of company and temptations, that I scarcely have had time to do anything."I suppose my dear friends have acquainted you with the occasion of my leaving Oxford in so abrupt a manner; and Mr. Hutchin's letter has sufficiently informed you how I was received at Gloucester."I have been a week at Bristol, and if any poor soul deserved your pious prayers, surely mine did; for it is impossible to tell you the dangers to which I was there exposed. But when we are weak, then are we strong. The Lord was my support, and I escaped the hands of the enemy. I had no great opportunities offered me at Bristol of promoting God's glory, any further than by shewing a good example. For, alas! all my relations seem to me in a sad tepid state; but I doubt not God will, one day or another, open their hearts to receive the word of truth."My poor mother seems very desirous of withdrawing from the world, and, I trust, will soon have the means put in her way to do it. My brother, the innkeeper, has had variety of misfortunes, but, I fear, they have not met with their intended effect. However, I hope, if I can get him to use prayer, he will soon grow better. The captain of the ship[32]seems to be in too great a hurry to attend to religion; but he has a desire for reading Mr. Law, which I hope will be sanctified to him."But though my relations are in this condition, I find my other friends are not. They all vastly solicit me to pay them visits, so that, in a short time, I trust we shall have a Religious Society. I have gotten three clergymen at Gloucester; all I hope capable of being worked upon.I was also sent for by the gentleman's brother where I lodge, who is minister of Stonehouse,[33]in a very pressing manner; and I trust our meeting will be sanctified. My dear friend, who used to correspond with me at Oxford,[34]seems now to perceive some pangs of the new birth. His greatest struggle is to leave the world. I believe he will soon get over it. We have the whole house to ourselves. I find he has done what he could, and seems desirous of doing more. He earnestly desires your prayers. Last night, one Mr. Escott, a clergyman, came to see me, and we spent the evening in religious conversation, and hope ere long to have set nights for our meetings. Be pleased to advise me what I had best recommend for our reading. I was thinking to take Burkitt on the New Testament."The Scriptures are now my sole study; but I am in great want of your advice, sir, how to prosecute them, intending to read them as practicably as possible. What do you think of Patrick on the Proverbs? I trust God has opened a door for me, to be an instrument of propagating the Gospel at Swansea, in Wales. The particulars you shall hear hereafter. I want sadly some more religious books, and a set of your 'Prayers.' Be so good, sir, as to let me have them, with a letter, next coach."I have not time to write to my dear brethren as I would; but if Mr. Broughton, Mr. Salmon, etc., would send me a line, they cannot imagine what service they might do. If one of them would enlarge a little on the vanity of worldly pleasures, who knows how God may work by them? I have a great deal more to say, but must refer it to another opportunity. Give me leave, sir, only to send my due respects to all my brethren, and, with my earnest petition for their importunate prayers, to subscribe myself,"Rev. Sir, your very humble servant,"George Whitefield."[35]
"Gloucester,June 11, 1735.
"Rev. Sir,—I should have taken the freedom of writing to you ere now, had I imagined you were returned to Oxford, or had my affairs been in any settled way; but really, sir, I have been so tossed up and down by variety of company and temptations, that I scarcely have had time to do anything.
"I suppose my dear friends have acquainted you with the occasion of my leaving Oxford in so abrupt a manner; and Mr. Hutchin's letter has sufficiently informed you how I was received at Gloucester.
"I have been a week at Bristol, and if any poor soul deserved your pious prayers, surely mine did; for it is impossible to tell you the dangers to which I was there exposed. But when we are weak, then are we strong. The Lord was my support, and I escaped the hands of the enemy. I had no great opportunities offered me at Bristol of promoting God's glory, any further than by shewing a good example. For, alas! all my relations seem to me in a sad tepid state; but I doubt not God will, one day or another, open their hearts to receive the word of truth.
"My poor mother seems very desirous of withdrawing from the world, and, I trust, will soon have the means put in her way to do it. My brother, the innkeeper, has had variety of misfortunes, but, I fear, they have not met with their intended effect. However, I hope, if I can get him to use prayer, he will soon grow better. The captain of the ship[32]seems to be in too great a hurry to attend to religion; but he has a desire for reading Mr. Law, which I hope will be sanctified to him.
"But though my relations are in this condition, I find my other friends are not. They all vastly solicit me to pay them visits, so that, in a short time, I trust we shall have a Religious Society. I have gotten three clergymen at Gloucester; all I hope capable of being worked upon.I was also sent for by the gentleman's brother where I lodge, who is minister of Stonehouse,[33]in a very pressing manner; and I trust our meeting will be sanctified. My dear friend, who used to correspond with me at Oxford,[34]seems now to perceive some pangs of the new birth. His greatest struggle is to leave the world. I believe he will soon get over it. We have the whole house to ourselves. I find he has done what he could, and seems desirous of doing more. He earnestly desires your prayers. Last night, one Mr. Escott, a clergyman, came to see me, and we spent the evening in religious conversation, and hope ere long to have set nights for our meetings. Be pleased to advise me what I had best recommend for our reading. I was thinking to take Burkitt on the New Testament.
"The Scriptures are now my sole study; but I am in great want of your advice, sir, how to prosecute them, intending to read them as practicably as possible. What do you think of Patrick on the Proverbs? I trust God has opened a door for me, to be an instrument of propagating the Gospel at Swansea, in Wales. The particulars you shall hear hereafter. I want sadly some more religious books, and a set of your 'Prayers.' Be so good, sir, as to let me have them, with a letter, next coach.
"I have not time to write to my dear brethren as I would; but if Mr. Broughton, Mr. Salmon, etc., would send me a line, they cannot imagine what service they might do. If one of them would enlarge a little on the vanity of worldly pleasures, who knows how God may work by them? I have a great deal more to say, but must refer it to another opportunity. Give me leave, sir, only to send my due respects to all my brethren, and, with my earnest petition for their importunate prayers, to subscribe myself,
"Rev. Sir, your very humble servant,"George Whitefield."[35]
Whitefield left Pembroke College, Oxford, at the end of May, 1735, and returned to it in the month of March, 1736. The history of this long interval shall be given in his own words, from the Autobiography first published in 1740, and revised and re-issued in 1756. He writes:
"As fast as I got strength after my sickness, my tutor, physician, and some others were still urging me to go into the country, hoping thereby to divert me, as they thought, from a too intense application to religion.[36][I had for some time been aware of their design, and wrote letters beseeching my mother, if she valued my soul, not to lay her commands on me to come down. She was pleased to leave me to my choice; but,] finding at last it was necessary for my health, and many other providential circumstances pointing out my way, after earnest prayer for support, by the advice of my friends, I left my sweet retirement at Oxford, and went to Gloucester, the place of my nativity.["Having now obtained mercy from God, and received the Spirit of adoption in my heart, my friends were surprised to see me look and behave so cheerfully, after the many reports they had heard concerning me. However, I soon found myself to be as a sheep sent forth amongst wolves in sheep's clothing; for they immediately endeavoured to dissuade me, as they had lately done a friend that began with me, from a constant use of the means of grace, especially from weekly abstinence, and receiving the blessed sacrament. But God enabled me to resist them steadfast in the faith; and, by keeping close to Him in His holy ordinances, I was made to triumph over all."Being unaccustomed for some time to live without spiritual companions, and finding none that would join heartily with me,—no, not one,—I watched unto prayer all the day long, beseeching God to raise me some religious associates in His own way and time.]"'I will endeavour either to find or make a friend,' had been my resolution now for some time; and therefore,[37]after importunate prayer one day, I resolved to go to the house of one Mrs. W——, to whom I had formerly read Plays, Spectators, Pope's Homer, and such-like [trifling] books—hoping the alteration she would now find in my sentiments might, under God, influence her soul. [God was pleased to bless the visit with the desired effect.] She received the word gladly. [She wanted to be taught the way of God more perfectly,] and soon became a fool for Christ's sake. Not long after, God made me instrumental to awaken several[38]young persons, who soon formed themselves into a little Society, and had quickly the honour of being despised at Gloucester, as we had been before them at Oxford. Thus,allthat will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution."My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the Holy Scriptures upon my knees, laying aside all other books, and praying over, if possible, every line and word. This proved meat indeed, and drink indeed, to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light, and power from above. [I got more true knowledge from reading the book of God in one month, than I couldeverhave acquired fromallthe writings of men. In one word,] I found it profitable for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, every way sufficient to make the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished unto every good word and work."During my absence from Oxford I spent three weeks at Bristol, whither I went to see some relations, but could not do them much good, because of the prejudices they had conceived against me. However, I daily walked with God, and, going to visit[39]an aunt then in an almshouse there, God brought in my way a young woman who was hungering and thirsting after righteousness. She received the word into an honest and good heart, and since has proved a true follower of Jesus Christ. [So gracious was the Lord, even in these my very early days, not to leave Himself without witness, in that Hethusvouchsafed to bless my poor endeavours ineveryplace whereto His providence now sent me.]"According to His abundant mercy, He also raised me up some temporal supplies. [For some considerable time, I had followed the example of Professor Frank, and, whenever I wanted any worldly assistance, pleaded the Scripture promises for the things of this life, as well as that which is to come, in the name of Jesus Christ. This is still my practice, and I never yet failed of success. When I came from Oxford, on account of my sickness and other extraordinary and unavoidable expenses, I owed, I think, about £12 or £13; and when I went to Bristol, I was so poor that I was obliged to borrow money of my kind hostess, Mrs. H——, with whom I lodged at Gloucester,—and whose husband and family I pray God eternally to bless,—to bear my charges on the road. This, I bless God, did not dishearten me; but I continued pleading the promises in thename of Christ; and, soon after my coming to Bristol, I received an answer. For, a brother of mine coming from sea, God inclined him to give me four guineas and some other necessaries. And when I returned to Gloucester, as I did after I had continued a short time at Bristol,] those I expected should assist me did not; but persons I never spoke to, and who, I thought, were my enemies, were raised up to supply my wants, and[40]fulfil that promise which I always pleaded, 'Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.'["Oh, what sweet communion had I daily vouchsafed with God in prayer after my coming again to Gloucester! How often have I been carried out beyond myself when sweetly meditating in the fields! How assuredly have I felt that Christ dwelt in me, and I in Him! and how did I daily walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace! Not that I was always upon the mount; sometimes a cloud would overshadow me; but the Sun of righteousness quickly arose and dispelled it, and I knew it was Jesus Christ that revealed Himself to my soul."I always observed, as my inward strength increased, so my outward sphere of action increased proportionably.] In a short time, therefore, I began to read to some poor people twice or thrice a week. [I likewise visited two other little Societies besides my own; and almost every day, both then and since, have found the benefit of being tempted myself, because that alone taught me how to give proper advice to those that came to me when tempted."Occasionally, as business and opportunity permitted, I generally visited one or two sick persons every day; and though silver and gold I had little of my own, yet, in imitation of my Lord's disciples, who entreated in the behalf of the fainting multitude, I used to pray unto Him, and He, from time to time, inclined several that were rich in this world to give me money, so that I generally had a little stock for the poor always in my hand.] One of the poor whom I visited in this manner was called effectually by God as at the eleventh hour. She was a woman above threescore years old, and, I really believe, died in the true faith of Jesus Christ.["About this time God was pleased to enlighten my soul, and bring me into the knowledge of His free grace, and the necessity of being justified in His sight by faithonly.[41]This was more extraordinary, becausemy friends at Oxford had rather inclined to the mystic divinity; and one of them, a dear servant of the Lord, lately confessed he did not like me so well at Oxford as the rest of his brethren, because I held justification by faithonly. And yet, he observed, I had most success. But, blessed be God! most of us have now been taught this doctrine of Christ, and, I hope, shall be willing to die in the defence of it. It is the good old doctrine of the Church of England. It is what the holy martyrs in Queen Mary's time sealed with their blood, and which I pray God, if need be, that I and my brethren may seal with ours."Burkitt's and Henry's Expositions were of admirable use to lead me into this and all other gospel truths. For many months have I been almost always upon my knees, to study and pray over these books. The Holy Spirit, from time to time, has led me into a knowledge of Divine things, and I have been directed, by watching and reading the Scripture in this manner, even in the minutest of circumstances, as plainly as the Jews were, when consulting the Urim and Thummim at the high priest's breast."Allein's 'Alarm,' Baxter's 'Call to the Unconverted,' and Janeway's 'Life,' which I read at leisure hours, much benefited me. I bless God, the partition wall of bigotry and sect-religion was soon broken down in my heart; for, as soon as the love of God was shed abroad in my soul, I loved all, of whatever denomination, that loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity of heart."During my stay here,] God enabled me to give a public testimony of my repentance as to seeing and acting plays. For, hearing the strollers were coming to town, and knowing what an egregious offender I had been,[42][I wrestled with God in prayer to put me in a way to manifest my abhorrence of my former sin and folly. In answer to this, I was stirred up to extract][43]Mr. Law's excellent treatise, entitled 'The Absolute Unlawfulness of the Stage Entertainments.' [God gave me favour in the printer's sight; and, at my request, he put a little of it in theNews][44]for six weeks successively, and God was pleased to give it His blessing.["Having been absent for about six months from the University, I thought it time to think of returning thither; but, before I came to a resolution, was convinced of the contrary."At my first coming to Gloucester, being used to visit the prisoners at Oxford, I prayed most earnestly that God would open a door for me to visit the prisoners here also. Quickly after, I dreamed that one of the prisoners came to be instructed by me; and it was impressed much upon my heart. In the morning I went to the door of the county gaol. I knocked, but nobody came to open it. I thought the hour was not yet come. I waited still upon God in prayer, and in some months after came a letter from a friend at Oxford, desiring me to go to one Pebworth, whowas broken out of Oxford gaol, and was retaken at Gloucester.[45]As soon as I read this letter, it appeared to me that my prayer was now answered. Immediately I went to the prison, assuredly gathering that the Lord called me thither. I met with the person, and, finding him and some otherswilling to hear the word of God, and having gained leave of the keeper and two ordinaries, I constantly read to and prayed with them every day I was in town. I also begged money for them, whereby I was enabled to release some of them, and cause provisions to be distributed weekly amongst them, as also to put such books into their hands as I judged most proper. I cannot say any one of the prisoners was effectually wrought upon; however, much evil was prevented, many were convinced, and my own soul was much edified and strengthened in the love of God and man."Thus employed, I continued in my own city three months longer—despised indeed by man, but highly blessed by the grace of God. My understanding was enlightened, my will broken, and my affections more and more enlivened with a zeal for Christ. Many such, I believe, were added to our little Society as shall be saved. Fresh supplies came from unexpected hands to defray my expenses at the University; and, at the end of nine months, I returned thither, to the natural joy and comfort of my friends, till I was called into holy orders—the particular circumstances of which I shall relate in the following section."From the time I first entered the University, especially from the time I knew what was true and undefiled Christianity, I entertained high thoughts of the importance of the ministerial office, and was not solicitous what place should be prepared for me, but how I should be prepared for a place.][46]That saying of the apostle, 'Not a novice, lest being puffed up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil;' and that first question of our excellent ordination office, 'Do you trust that you areinwardlymoved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' used even to make me tremble whenever I thought of entering into the ministry. [The shyness that Moses and some other prophets expressed, when God sent them out in a public capacity, I thought, was sufficient to teach me not to run till I was called. He who knoweth the hearts of men is witness that I never prayed more earnestly against anything than I did against entering into the service of the Churchso soon. Oftentimes I have been in an agony of prayer, when under convictions of my insufficiency for so great a work.] With strong crying and tears, I have often said, 'Lord, I am a youth of uncircumcised lips! Lord, send me not into Thy vineyard yet!' [And sometimes I had reason to think God was angry with me for resisting His will. However, I was resolved to praythus, as long as I could. If God did not grant my request by keeping me out of it, I knew His grace would be sufficient to support and strengthen me whenever He sent me into the ministry.]"To my prayers I added my endeavours, and wrote letters to my friends at Oxford, beseeching them to pray to God to disappoint the designs of my country friends, who were for my taking orders as soon as possible. Their answer was, 'Pray we the Lord of the harvest to send thee and many more labourers into His harvest.' [Another old and worthy ministerof Christ,[47]when I wrote to him about the meaning of the word 'novice,' answered, it meant a novice in grace, not in years; and he was pleased to add, if St. Paul were then at Gloucester, he believed St. Paul would ordain me.] All this did not satisfy me. I still continued instant in prayer against going into holy orders, and was not thoroughly convinced it was the Divine will, till God, by His providence, brought me acquainted with the present Bishop of Gloucester.[48]["Before I conversed with his lordship, God was pleased to give me previous notice of it. Long ere I had the least prospect of being called before the bishop, I dreamed, one night, I was talking with him in his palace, and that he gave me some gold, which seemed to sound again in my hand. Afterwards, this dream would often come into my mind; and whenever I saw the bishop at church, a strong persuasion would arise in my mind that I should very shortly go to him. I always checked it, and prayed to God to preserve me from ever desiring that honour which cometh of man. One afternoon it happened that the bishop took a solitary walk, as I was told afterwards, to Lady Selwyn's, near Gloucester, who, not long before, had made me a present of a piece of gold. She, I found, recommended me to the bishop]; and, a few days after,[49]as I was coming from the cathedral prayers [thinking of no such thing], one of the vergers called after me, and said the bishop desired to speak with me. I [forgetful at that time of my dream] immediately turned back,[50]considering within myself what I had done to deserve his lordship's displeasure.[51]When I came to the top of the palace stairs, the bishop tookme by the hand, told me he was glad to see me, and bid me wait a little till he had put off his habit, and he would return to me again. [This gave me an opportunity of praying to God for His assistance, and adoring Him for His providence over me.]"At his coming [again] into the room, the bishop told me he had heard of my character, liked my behaviour at church, and, enquiring my age, said, 'Notwithstanding I have declared I would not ordain any one under three and twenty, yet I shall think it my duty to ordain you whenever you come for holy orders.' [He then made me a present of five guineas to buy me a book, which, sounding again in my hand, put me in mind of my dream; whereupon my heart was filled with a sense of God's love.]"Before I came home, this news[52]had reached my friends; who, being fond of my having such a great man's favour, were very solicitous to know the event of my visit. Many things I hid from them; but, when they pressed me hard, I was obliged to tell them how the bishop, of his own accord, had offered to give me holy orders whenever I would; on which they, knowing how I had depended on the declaration his lordship had made some time ago, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, said,—and I began to think myself,—'That if I held out any longer I should fight against God.' At length, I came to a resolution, by God's leave, to offer myself for holy orders the next Ember days."The only thing now in dispute was into what part of my Lord's vineyard I should be sent to labour first. God had given me much success in Gloucester; and, my friends being desirous of having me near them, I had thoughts of settling among them. But, when I came to Oxford, my friends there urged several reasons for my continuing at the University. 'The Mr. Wesleys had not long gone abroad, and now no one was left to take care of the prison affairs,' etc. They further urged, 'That God had blessed my endeavoursthere, as well as at Gloucester; that the University was the fountain-head; that every gownsman's name was legion; and that if I should be made instrumental of converting one ofthem, it would be as much as converting a whole parish.' At the same time, unknown to me, some of them sent to that great and good man, the late Sir John Philips, who was a great encourager of the Oxford Methodists;[53]and, though he had never seen, but only heard of me, yet he sent word hewould allow me £30 a year, if I would continue at the University. Upon this, finding the care of the prisoners would be no more than, under God, I could undertake with pleasure, and knowing the University was the best place to prosecute my studies, I resolved, God willing, to wait at Oxford a blessing on the firstfruits of my ministerial labours."In the meanwhile, having before made some observations upon the thirty-nine Articles, and proved them by Scripture,[54]I strictly examined myself by the qualifications required for a minister in St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and also by every question that I knew was to be publicly put to me at the time of my ordination. This latter I drew out in writing at large, and sealed my approbation of it every Sunday at the blessed sacrament. At length, Trinity Sunday being near at hand, and having my testimonials from the college, I went, a fortnight beforehand, to Gloucester, intending to compose some sermons, and to give myself more particularly to prayer.["But God's thoughts are not as our thoughts. When I came to Gloucester, notwithstanding I strove and prayed for several days, and had matter enough in my heart, yet I was so restrained that I could not compose anything at all. I mentioned my case to one clergyman. He said, 'I was an enthusiast.' I wrote to another who was experienced in the divine life. He gave me some reasons why God might deal with me in that manner, and withal promised me his prayers. I joined with him in importunate supplication to know whether this restraint was from God or not. At last, in reading Mr. Henry upon the Acts of the Apostles, this passage was much pressed upon my heart, 'We assayed to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit suffered us not.' Looking a little farther, I found a quotation out of Ezekiel, wherein God said to that young prophet, just after He had given him a divine and public commission, 'Thou shalt be dumb; but when I speak unto thee, then thou shalt speak.' This made me quite easy. The remainder of the fortnight I spent in reading the several missions of the prophets and apostles, and wrestled with God to give me grace to follow their good examples.]"About three days before the time appointed for ordination, the bishop came to town. The next evening, I sent his lordship an abstract of my private examination upon these two questions: 'Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' And, 'Are you called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the laws of this realm?' The next morning, I waited on the bishop. He received me with much love, telling me 'he was glad I was come; that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made, and with the allowance given me by Sir John Philips. I had myself,' said he, 'made provision for you of two little parishes; but since you choose to be at Oxford, I am very well pleased. [I doubt not but you will do much good.'] Upon this, I took my leave, abashed with God'sgoodness to such a wretch, but withal exceedingly rejoiced that, in every circumstance, He made my way into the ministry so very plain before my face."This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening, I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently for about two hours, in behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me."On Sunday morning, I rose early, and prayed over St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, 'Let no one despise thy youth.' [When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but Samuel's standing a little child before the Lord with a linen ephod.] When the bishop laid his hands upon my head,[55][my heart was melted down, and] I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body to the service of God's sanctuary. I read the Gospel, at the bishop's command, with power, and afterward sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses, by partaking of the holy sacrament of our Lord's most blessed body and blood.["Being restrained from writing, as was before observed, I could not preach in the afternoon, though much solicited thereto; but I read prayers to the poor prisoners, being willing to let the first act of my ministerial office be an act of charity."The next morning, waiting upon God in prayer to know what He would have me to do, these words, 'Speak out, Paul,' came with great power to my soul. Immediately my heart was enlarged. God spake to me by His Spirit, and I was no longer dumb. I finished a sermon I had in hand some time before. I began another; and preached the Sunday following to a very crowded audience, with as much freedom as though I had been a preacher for some years."Oh, the unspeakable benefit of reading to the poor, and exercising our talents while students at the University! Such previous acts are very proper to prepare us for the work of our Lord, and make us not unapt to teach in a more public manner. It is remarkable that our Lord sent out His Apostles on short missions before they were so solemnly authorized at the day of Pentecost. Would the Heads and Tutors of our Universities follow His example, and, instead of discouraging their pupils from doing anything of this nature, send them to visit the sick and prisoners, and to pray with, and read practical books of religion to the poor, they would find such exercises of more service to them, and to the Church of God, than all their private and public lectures put together."Thus God dealt with my soul. At the same time, by His gracious providence, He supplied me with all things needful for my body also. For He inclined the bishop's heart to give me five guineas more; and, by this time, a quarter's allowance was due to me from Sir John Philips; both which sums put together fully served to defray the expenses of my ordination, and of taking up my bachelor's degree, which was conferred on me at Oxford the week after my being ordained, when I was about one and twenty years of age."These changes from a servitor to a Bachelor of Arts—from a common drawer to a clergyman—were no doubt temptations to think more highly of myself than I ought to think; and some were therefore jealous over me, as I trust they always will be, with a godly jealousy. God, who is rich in mercy, thereby forewarned me of my danger, stirred up my heart to pray against spiritual pride, and kept me, as I hope He will to the end, in some measure always humbled before Him."Thus did God, by a variety of unseen acts of providence and grace, train me up for, and at length introduce me into, the service of His Church."]
"As fast as I got strength after my sickness, my tutor, physician, and some others were still urging me to go into the country, hoping thereby to divert me, as they thought, from a too intense application to religion.[36][I had for some time been aware of their design, and wrote letters beseeching my mother, if she valued my soul, not to lay her commands on me to come down. She was pleased to leave me to my choice; but,] finding at last it was necessary for my health, and many other providential circumstances pointing out my way, after earnest prayer for support, by the advice of my friends, I left my sweet retirement at Oxford, and went to Gloucester, the place of my nativity.
["Having now obtained mercy from God, and received the Spirit of adoption in my heart, my friends were surprised to see me look and behave so cheerfully, after the many reports they had heard concerning me. However, I soon found myself to be as a sheep sent forth amongst wolves in sheep's clothing; for they immediately endeavoured to dissuade me, as they had lately done a friend that began with me, from a constant use of the means of grace, especially from weekly abstinence, and receiving the blessed sacrament. But God enabled me to resist them steadfast in the faith; and, by keeping close to Him in His holy ordinances, I was made to triumph over all.
"Being unaccustomed for some time to live without spiritual companions, and finding none that would join heartily with me,—no, not one,—I watched unto prayer all the day long, beseeching God to raise me some religious associates in His own way and time.]
"'I will endeavour either to find or make a friend,' had been my resolution now for some time; and therefore,[37]after importunate prayer one day, I resolved to go to the house of one Mrs. W——, to whom I had formerly read Plays, Spectators, Pope's Homer, and such-like [trifling] books—hoping the alteration she would now find in my sentiments might, under God, influence her soul. [God was pleased to bless the visit with the desired effect.] She received the word gladly. [She wanted to be taught the way of God more perfectly,] and soon became a fool for Christ's sake. Not long after, God made me instrumental to awaken several[38]young persons, who soon formed themselves into a little Society, and had quickly the honour of being despised at Gloucester, as we had been before them at Oxford. Thus,allthat will live godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution.
"My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the Holy Scriptures upon my knees, laying aside all other books, and praying over, if possible, every line and word. This proved meat indeed, and drink indeed, to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light, and power from above. [I got more true knowledge from reading the book of God in one month, than I couldeverhave acquired fromallthe writings of men. In one word,] I found it profitable for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, every way sufficient to make the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished unto every good word and work.
"During my absence from Oxford I spent three weeks at Bristol, whither I went to see some relations, but could not do them much good, because of the prejudices they had conceived against me. However, I daily walked with God, and, going to visit[39]an aunt then in an almshouse there, God brought in my way a young woman who was hungering and thirsting after righteousness. She received the word into an honest and good heart, and since has proved a true follower of Jesus Christ. [So gracious was the Lord, even in these my very early days, not to leave Himself without witness, in that Hethusvouchsafed to bless my poor endeavours ineveryplace whereto His providence now sent me.]
"According to His abundant mercy, He also raised me up some temporal supplies. [For some considerable time, I had followed the example of Professor Frank, and, whenever I wanted any worldly assistance, pleaded the Scripture promises for the things of this life, as well as that which is to come, in the name of Jesus Christ. This is still my practice, and I never yet failed of success. When I came from Oxford, on account of my sickness and other extraordinary and unavoidable expenses, I owed, I think, about £12 or £13; and when I went to Bristol, I was so poor that I was obliged to borrow money of my kind hostess, Mrs. H——, with whom I lodged at Gloucester,—and whose husband and family I pray God eternally to bless,—to bear my charges on the road. This, I bless God, did not dishearten me; but I continued pleading the promises in thename of Christ; and, soon after my coming to Bristol, I received an answer. For, a brother of mine coming from sea, God inclined him to give me four guineas and some other necessaries. And when I returned to Gloucester, as I did after I had continued a short time at Bristol,] those I expected should assist me did not; but persons I never spoke to, and who, I thought, were my enemies, were raised up to supply my wants, and[40]fulfil that promise which I always pleaded, 'Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.'
["Oh, what sweet communion had I daily vouchsafed with God in prayer after my coming again to Gloucester! How often have I been carried out beyond myself when sweetly meditating in the fields! How assuredly have I felt that Christ dwelt in me, and I in Him! and how did I daily walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost, and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace! Not that I was always upon the mount; sometimes a cloud would overshadow me; but the Sun of righteousness quickly arose and dispelled it, and I knew it was Jesus Christ that revealed Himself to my soul.
"I always observed, as my inward strength increased, so my outward sphere of action increased proportionably.] In a short time, therefore, I began to read to some poor people twice or thrice a week. [I likewise visited two other little Societies besides my own; and almost every day, both then and since, have found the benefit of being tempted myself, because that alone taught me how to give proper advice to those that came to me when tempted.
"Occasionally, as business and opportunity permitted, I generally visited one or two sick persons every day; and though silver and gold I had little of my own, yet, in imitation of my Lord's disciples, who entreated in the behalf of the fainting multitude, I used to pray unto Him, and He, from time to time, inclined several that were rich in this world to give me money, so that I generally had a little stock for the poor always in my hand.] One of the poor whom I visited in this manner was called effectually by God as at the eleventh hour. She was a woman above threescore years old, and, I really believe, died in the true faith of Jesus Christ.
["About this time God was pleased to enlighten my soul, and bring me into the knowledge of His free grace, and the necessity of being justified in His sight by faithonly.[41]This was more extraordinary, becausemy friends at Oxford had rather inclined to the mystic divinity; and one of them, a dear servant of the Lord, lately confessed he did not like me so well at Oxford as the rest of his brethren, because I held justification by faithonly. And yet, he observed, I had most success. But, blessed be God! most of us have now been taught this doctrine of Christ, and, I hope, shall be willing to die in the defence of it. It is the good old doctrine of the Church of England. It is what the holy martyrs in Queen Mary's time sealed with their blood, and which I pray God, if need be, that I and my brethren may seal with ours.
"Burkitt's and Henry's Expositions were of admirable use to lead me into this and all other gospel truths. For many months have I been almost always upon my knees, to study and pray over these books. The Holy Spirit, from time to time, has led me into a knowledge of Divine things, and I have been directed, by watching and reading the Scripture in this manner, even in the minutest of circumstances, as plainly as the Jews were, when consulting the Urim and Thummim at the high priest's breast.
"Allein's 'Alarm,' Baxter's 'Call to the Unconverted,' and Janeway's 'Life,' which I read at leisure hours, much benefited me. I bless God, the partition wall of bigotry and sect-religion was soon broken down in my heart; for, as soon as the love of God was shed abroad in my soul, I loved all, of whatever denomination, that loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity of heart.
"During my stay here,] God enabled me to give a public testimony of my repentance as to seeing and acting plays. For, hearing the strollers were coming to town, and knowing what an egregious offender I had been,[42][I wrestled with God in prayer to put me in a way to manifest my abhorrence of my former sin and folly. In answer to this, I was stirred up to extract][43]Mr. Law's excellent treatise, entitled 'The Absolute Unlawfulness of the Stage Entertainments.' [God gave me favour in the printer's sight; and, at my request, he put a little of it in theNews][44]for six weeks successively, and God was pleased to give it His blessing.
["Having been absent for about six months from the University, I thought it time to think of returning thither; but, before I came to a resolution, was convinced of the contrary.
"At my first coming to Gloucester, being used to visit the prisoners at Oxford, I prayed most earnestly that God would open a door for me to visit the prisoners here also. Quickly after, I dreamed that one of the prisoners came to be instructed by me; and it was impressed much upon my heart. In the morning I went to the door of the county gaol. I knocked, but nobody came to open it. I thought the hour was not yet come. I waited still upon God in prayer, and in some months after came a letter from a friend at Oxford, desiring me to go to one Pebworth, whowas broken out of Oxford gaol, and was retaken at Gloucester.[45]As soon as I read this letter, it appeared to me that my prayer was now answered. Immediately I went to the prison, assuredly gathering that the Lord called me thither. I met with the person, and, finding him and some otherswilling to hear the word of God, and having gained leave of the keeper and two ordinaries, I constantly read to and prayed with them every day I was in town. I also begged money for them, whereby I was enabled to release some of them, and cause provisions to be distributed weekly amongst them, as also to put such books into their hands as I judged most proper. I cannot say any one of the prisoners was effectually wrought upon; however, much evil was prevented, many were convinced, and my own soul was much edified and strengthened in the love of God and man.
"Thus employed, I continued in my own city three months longer—despised indeed by man, but highly blessed by the grace of God. My understanding was enlightened, my will broken, and my affections more and more enlivened with a zeal for Christ. Many such, I believe, were added to our little Society as shall be saved. Fresh supplies came from unexpected hands to defray my expenses at the University; and, at the end of nine months, I returned thither, to the natural joy and comfort of my friends, till I was called into holy orders—the particular circumstances of which I shall relate in the following section.
"From the time I first entered the University, especially from the time I knew what was true and undefiled Christianity, I entertained high thoughts of the importance of the ministerial office, and was not solicitous what place should be prepared for me, but how I should be prepared for a place.][46]That saying of the apostle, 'Not a novice, lest being puffed up with pride, he fall into the condemnation of the devil;' and that first question of our excellent ordination office, 'Do you trust that you areinwardlymoved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' used even to make me tremble whenever I thought of entering into the ministry. [The shyness that Moses and some other prophets expressed, when God sent them out in a public capacity, I thought, was sufficient to teach me not to run till I was called. He who knoweth the hearts of men is witness that I never prayed more earnestly against anything than I did against entering into the service of the Churchso soon. Oftentimes I have been in an agony of prayer, when under convictions of my insufficiency for so great a work.] With strong crying and tears, I have often said, 'Lord, I am a youth of uncircumcised lips! Lord, send me not into Thy vineyard yet!' [And sometimes I had reason to think God was angry with me for resisting His will. However, I was resolved to praythus, as long as I could. If God did not grant my request by keeping me out of it, I knew His grace would be sufficient to support and strengthen me whenever He sent me into the ministry.]
"To my prayers I added my endeavours, and wrote letters to my friends at Oxford, beseeching them to pray to God to disappoint the designs of my country friends, who were for my taking orders as soon as possible. Their answer was, 'Pray we the Lord of the harvest to send thee and many more labourers into His harvest.' [Another old and worthy ministerof Christ,[47]when I wrote to him about the meaning of the word 'novice,' answered, it meant a novice in grace, not in years; and he was pleased to add, if St. Paul were then at Gloucester, he believed St. Paul would ordain me.] All this did not satisfy me. I still continued instant in prayer against going into holy orders, and was not thoroughly convinced it was the Divine will, till God, by His providence, brought me acquainted with the present Bishop of Gloucester.[48]
["Before I conversed with his lordship, God was pleased to give me previous notice of it. Long ere I had the least prospect of being called before the bishop, I dreamed, one night, I was talking with him in his palace, and that he gave me some gold, which seemed to sound again in my hand. Afterwards, this dream would often come into my mind; and whenever I saw the bishop at church, a strong persuasion would arise in my mind that I should very shortly go to him. I always checked it, and prayed to God to preserve me from ever desiring that honour which cometh of man. One afternoon it happened that the bishop took a solitary walk, as I was told afterwards, to Lady Selwyn's, near Gloucester, who, not long before, had made me a present of a piece of gold. She, I found, recommended me to the bishop]; and, a few days after,[49]as I was coming from the cathedral prayers [thinking of no such thing], one of the vergers called after me, and said the bishop desired to speak with me. I [forgetful at that time of my dream] immediately turned back,[50]considering within myself what I had done to deserve his lordship's displeasure.[51]When I came to the top of the palace stairs, the bishop tookme by the hand, told me he was glad to see me, and bid me wait a little till he had put off his habit, and he would return to me again. [This gave me an opportunity of praying to God for His assistance, and adoring Him for His providence over me.]
"At his coming [again] into the room, the bishop told me he had heard of my character, liked my behaviour at church, and, enquiring my age, said, 'Notwithstanding I have declared I would not ordain any one under three and twenty, yet I shall think it my duty to ordain you whenever you come for holy orders.' [He then made me a present of five guineas to buy me a book, which, sounding again in my hand, put me in mind of my dream; whereupon my heart was filled with a sense of God's love.]
"Before I came home, this news[52]had reached my friends; who, being fond of my having such a great man's favour, were very solicitous to know the event of my visit. Many things I hid from them; but, when they pressed me hard, I was obliged to tell them how the bishop, of his own accord, had offered to give me holy orders whenever I would; on which they, knowing how I had depended on the declaration his lordship had made some time ago, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, said,—and I began to think myself,—'That if I held out any longer I should fight against God.' At length, I came to a resolution, by God's leave, to offer myself for holy orders the next Ember days.
"The only thing now in dispute was into what part of my Lord's vineyard I should be sent to labour first. God had given me much success in Gloucester; and, my friends being desirous of having me near them, I had thoughts of settling among them. But, when I came to Oxford, my friends there urged several reasons for my continuing at the University. 'The Mr. Wesleys had not long gone abroad, and now no one was left to take care of the prison affairs,' etc. They further urged, 'That God had blessed my endeavoursthere, as well as at Gloucester; that the University was the fountain-head; that every gownsman's name was legion; and that if I should be made instrumental of converting one ofthem, it would be as much as converting a whole parish.' At the same time, unknown to me, some of them sent to that great and good man, the late Sir John Philips, who was a great encourager of the Oxford Methodists;[53]and, though he had never seen, but only heard of me, yet he sent word hewould allow me £30 a year, if I would continue at the University. Upon this, finding the care of the prisoners would be no more than, under God, I could undertake with pleasure, and knowing the University was the best place to prosecute my studies, I resolved, God willing, to wait at Oxford a blessing on the firstfruits of my ministerial labours.
"In the meanwhile, having before made some observations upon the thirty-nine Articles, and proved them by Scripture,[54]I strictly examined myself by the qualifications required for a minister in St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and also by every question that I knew was to be publicly put to me at the time of my ordination. This latter I drew out in writing at large, and sealed my approbation of it every Sunday at the blessed sacrament. At length, Trinity Sunday being near at hand, and having my testimonials from the college, I went, a fortnight beforehand, to Gloucester, intending to compose some sermons, and to give myself more particularly to prayer.
["But God's thoughts are not as our thoughts. When I came to Gloucester, notwithstanding I strove and prayed for several days, and had matter enough in my heart, yet I was so restrained that I could not compose anything at all. I mentioned my case to one clergyman. He said, 'I was an enthusiast.' I wrote to another who was experienced in the divine life. He gave me some reasons why God might deal with me in that manner, and withal promised me his prayers. I joined with him in importunate supplication to know whether this restraint was from God or not. At last, in reading Mr. Henry upon the Acts of the Apostles, this passage was much pressed upon my heart, 'We assayed to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit suffered us not.' Looking a little farther, I found a quotation out of Ezekiel, wherein God said to that young prophet, just after He had given him a divine and public commission, 'Thou shalt be dumb; but when I speak unto thee, then thou shalt speak.' This made me quite easy. The remainder of the fortnight I spent in reading the several missions of the prophets and apostles, and wrestled with God to give me grace to follow their good examples.]
"About three days before the time appointed for ordination, the bishop came to town. The next evening, I sent his lordship an abstract of my private examination upon these two questions: 'Do you trust that you are inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and administration?' And, 'Are you called according to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the laws of this realm?' The next morning, I waited on the bishop. He received me with much love, telling me 'he was glad I was come; that he was satisfied with the preparation I had made, and with the allowance given me by Sir John Philips. I had myself,' said he, 'made provision for you of two little parishes; but since you choose to be at Oxford, I am very well pleased. [I doubt not but you will do much good.'] Upon this, I took my leave, abashed with God'sgoodness to such a wretch, but withal exceedingly rejoiced that, in every circumstance, He made my way into the ministry so very plain before my face.
"This, I think, was on Friday. The day following I continued in abstinence and prayer. In the evening, I retired to a hill near the town, and prayed fervently for about two hours, in behalf of myself and those that were to be ordained with me.
"On Sunday morning, I rose early, and prayed over St. Paul's Epistle to Timothy, and more particularly over that precept, 'Let no one despise thy youth.' [When I went up to the altar, I could think of nothing but Samuel's standing a little child before the Lord with a linen ephod.] When the bishop laid his hands upon my head,[55][my heart was melted down, and] I offered up my whole spirit, soul, and body to the service of God's sanctuary. I read the Gospel, at the bishop's command, with power, and afterward sealed the good confession I had made before many witnesses, by partaking of the holy sacrament of our Lord's most blessed body and blood.
["Being restrained from writing, as was before observed, I could not preach in the afternoon, though much solicited thereto; but I read prayers to the poor prisoners, being willing to let the first act of my ministerial office be an act of charity.
"The next morning, waiting upon God in prayer to know what He would have me to do, these words, 'Speak out, Paul,' came with great power to my soul. Immediately my heart was enlarged. God spake to me by His Spirit, and I was no longer dumb. I finished a sermon I had in hand some time before. I began another; and preached the Sunday following to a very crowded audience, with as much freedom as though I had been a preacher for some years.
"Oh, the unspeakable benefit of reading to the poor, and exercising our talents while students at the University! Such previous acts are very proper to prepare us for the work of our Lord, and make us not unapt to teach in a more public manner. It is remarkable that our Lord sent out His Apostles on short missions before they were so solemnly authorized at the day of Pentecost. Would the Heads and Tutors of our Universities follow His example, and, instead of discouraging their pupils from doing anything of this nature, send them to visit the sick and prisoners, and to pray with, and read practical books of religion to the poor, they would find such exercises of more service to them, and to the Church of God, than all their private and public lectures put together.
"Thus God dealt with my soul. At the same time, by His gracious providence, He supplied me with all things needful for my body also. For He inclined the bishop's heart to give me five guineas more; and, by this time, a quarter's allowance was due to me from Sir John Philips; both which sums put together fully served to defray the expenses of my ordination, and of taking up my bachelor's degree, which was conferred on me at Oxford the week after my being ordained, when I was about one and twenty years of age.
"These changes from a servitor to a Bachelor of Arts—from a common drawer to a clergyman—were no doubt temptations to think more highly of myself than I ought to think; and some were therefore jealous over me, as I trust they always will be, with a godly jealousy. God, who is rich in mercy, thereby forewarned me of my danger, stirred up my heart to pray against spiritual pride, and kept me, as I hope He will to the end, in some measure always humbled before Him.
"Thus did God, by a variety of unseen acts of providence and grace, train me up for, and at length introduce me into, the service of His Church."]
Here ends all that isbiographicalin Whitefield's "Short Account of God's Dealings with him from his Infancy to the time of his entering into Holy Orders." The pamphlet concludes with an address to the reader, and with Addison's hymn, beginning—
"When all Thy mercies, O my God."
What ought to be said respecting this remarkable publication? At the time, it was pre-eminently remarkable, much more so than it would have been a hundred years afterwards. The world was not accustomed to such pious outpourings. It might have passed muster among Cromwell's Roundheads; and in the present age it would probably have died a silent death, no one either brandishing the scalping knife of the censorious critic, or dropping the tear of a loving lamenter upon its tomb. A hundred and thirty years ago the state of things was widely different to the circumstances now existing. Then religion was ridiculed rather than revered. Rare were the pious biographies committed to the press. It was almost—perhaps an absolutely—unheard-of thing for a man to publish his own religious experience. At all events, never before had a young clergyman of the Church of England, only twenty-five years of age, perpetrated an act like this. Bishops, priests, deacons, and literati of all descriptions were unpleasantly surprised; many were almost savagely indignant. Who was the piously pert neophyte writing in a strain like this? How should his publication be treated? Would it be best to be silently contemptuous? That was impossible; for the writer, though so young, had become one of the most notorious men in England. Would it be wise to review it out of existence by philosophical and sober disquisitions on its mysterious expressions, its general style, and its startling statements?Nay, this would beinfra dignitatem. The only way remaining was to treat the book with disdainful ridicule, and its youthful author with the sarcastic severity merited by a vain, conceited, bouncing enthusiast, whose religion had made him mad.
This was the kind of treatment young Whitefield had to meet. Did he deserve it? Answers to this question will be different, according to the standpoints occupied. The man of the world will say "Yes." The response of the educated, fastidious religionist will, perhaps, be to the same effect—quite as firm, though not so loud. Men who experience and practise the same religion Whitefield did, will yield a general approval, but object to particular statements and expressions.
This, substantially, was done by Whitefield himself, when, sixteen years afterwards, he published his revised edition. As already stated, in the preface of 1756, he distinctly declares that many mistakes have been rectified, and many passages, justly exceptionable, erased. In the foot notes, the reader has seen the rectifications; and, in the passages which are bracketed, he has seen the erasures. There can be no question that the sentences and paragraphs omitted were faults. Whitefield was simple-minded, humble, and ingenuous; but, in order to magnify the grace of God, he sometimes furnished the censorious critic with an opportunity to pronounce him vain, conceited, self-glorious, proud of prayer and piety. Such a judgment, however, would be unjust. Whitefield's autobiography has many faults; but they are mental rather than moral,—the faults of defective training, inexperience, youthfulness, and impulsive ardour,—rather than of self-conceit and pride. No man knew Whitefield better than Wesley did, and no man had a wider acquaintance with human character; and yet Wesley, in advanced life, perfectly exonerated Whitefield from charges like the fore-mentioned, and declared, in reference to the very statements contained in the book now in question, that, "For their artless and unaffected simplicity, they may vie with any writings of the kind."[56]
Sunday, June 20, 1736, was a grand day to Whitefield. In the imposing old cathedral, founded by Osric, "sub-regulus" of Ethelred, King of Mercia—an edifice in which Robert of Gloucester, author of the rhyming "Chronicle of England," had been a monk; and John Hooper, the immortal martyr, had been Gloucester's first Protestant prelate—stood a youth, who, five years before, had been a common tapster in an adjoining public-house. For three years and a half, by acting as a servitor, he had almost entirely maintained himself in Pembroke College, Oxford. His progress in learning had been such that he was soon to be a Bachelor of Arts. By the unsolicited and exceptional favour of Bishop Benson, at the early age of a little more than twenty-one, he now presented himself for admission into holy orders. Notwithstanding his wickedness as a child, and his fondness for "playing roguish tricks," he had always wished to be a clergyman, and had, many a time, amused himself and the companions of his boyhood by imitating ministers reading prayers. In his eighteenth year, before he went to Oxford, he had told his mother that he meant, ere long, to be a preacher; and had been rebuked for his arrogance by the good woman asking what he meant, and telling him to hold his tongue. But now the fond mother was, probably, present, in the fine old church, to witness the consummation of her George's wish—her heart filled to overflowing with honest pride and pious gratitude. And there, in all likelihood, was Gabriel Harris, one of Whitefield's earliest friends; and Robert Raikes, the managerand printer of theGloucester Journal, one of Whitefield's warm admirers, and thereputedfounder of Sunday schools; and also not a few of Whitefield's young companions, with whom, in days not long since past, he had acted theatricals, for the amusement of the mayor and aldermen of the city, and of the head master of St. Mary de Crypt's pleasure-loving school. The hour was a solemn one for the young candidate, but it was also full of joy. He writes:—
"Gloucester,June 20, 1736."This is a day much to be remembered; for, about noon, I was solemnly admitted by good Bishop Benson, before many witnesses, into holy orders. I endeavoured to behave with unaffected devotion. I trust I answered every question from the bottom of my heart. I hope the good of souls will be my only principle of action. Let come what will—life or death—I shall henceforwards live like one who this day, in the presence of men and angels, took the holy sacrament upon the profession of being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon me that ministration in the Church. This I began with reading prayers to the prisoners in the county gaol. Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of styling myself a prisoner of the Lord, I know not; but indeed, my dear friend, I can call heaven and earth to witness that, when the bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a martyr for Him, who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto Him are all future events and contingencies. I have thrown myself blindfold, and I trust without reserve, into His almighty hands."
"Gloucester,June 20, 1736.
"This is a day much to be remembered; for, about noon, I was solemnly admitted by good Bishop Benson, before many witnesses, into holy orders. I endeavoured to behave with unaffected devotion. I trust I answered every question from the bottom of my heart. I hope the good of souls will be my only principle of action. Let come what will—life or death—I shall henceforwards live like one who this day, in the presence of men and angels, took the holy sacrament upon the profession of being inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon me that ministration in the Church. This I began with reading prayers to the prisoners in the county gaol. Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of styling myself a prisoner of the Lord, I know not; but indeed, my dear friend, I can call heaven and earth to witness that, when the bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a martyr for Him, who hung upon the cross for me. Known unto Him are all future events and contingencies. I have thrown myself blindfold, and I trust without reserve, into His almighty hands."
In such a spirit Whitefield entered upon his life-long work. He coveted the ministry, and yet he seemed to dread it. He was eager for the fight, but he trembled at being sent before his Master called him. In one of the last sermons that he preached in England, on August 30, 1769, he told the crowd, in his London tabernacle, "I never prayed against any corruption I had in my life, so much as I did against going into holy orders. I have prayed a thousand times till the sweat has dropped from my face like rain, that God, of His infinite mercy, would not let me enter the Church before He called me. I remember once in Gloucester—I know the room—I look up at the window when I am there and walk along the street—I know the bedside, and the floor upon which I prostrated myself, and cried, 'Lord, I cannot go. I shall be puffed up withpride, and fall into the condemnation of the devil. I am unfit to preach in Thy great name. Send me not, Lord, send me not yet.'"[57]No wonder that God honoured the ministry of such a man. He sought no earthly emoluments or rank. He durst not begin to preach until he was satisfied of a call from God; but, receiving that, it was no high-sounding boast, when he declared his readiness, not only to become a prisoner, but a martyr for his Divine Redeemer.
Three days after his ordination, he wrote to a friend as follows:—
"Gloucester,June 23, 1736."Never a poor creature set up with so small a stock. When the good Bishop Benson announced last year, in his visitation charge, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, my heart leaped for joy. I thought I should have time (as my intention was) to make at least a hundred sermons, with which to begin my ministry. But so far from this being the case, I have not a single one, except that which I made for a small Society, and which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman, to convince him how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching. He kept it for a fortnight, and then sent it back with a guinea for the loan of it, telling me he had divided it into two, and had preached it morning and evening to his congregation. With this sermon I intend to begin, God willing, next Sunday, not doubting but that He, who increased a little lad's loaves and fishes for the feeding of a great multitude, will, from time to time, supply me with spiritual food for whatever congregations He, in His all-wise providence, shall be pleased to call me to. Help, help me, my dear friend, with your warmest addresses to the throne of grace. At present, this is the language of my heart—"'A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,Into Thy hands I fall;Be Thou my strength, my righteousness,My Jesus, and my all.'"Oh, cease not to pray for"Yours, etc.,"George Whitefield."
"Gloucester,June 23, 1736.
"Never a poor creature set up with so small a stock. When the good Bishop Benson announced last year, in his visitation charge, that he would ordain none under three and twenty, my heart leaped for joy. I thought I should have time (as my intention was) to make at least a hundred sermons, with which to begin my ministry. But so far from this being the case, I have not a single one, except that which I made for a small Society, and which I sent to a neighbouring clergyman, to convince him how unfit I was to take upon me the important work of preaching. He kept it for a fortnight, and then sent it back with a guinea for the loan of it, telling me he had divided it into two, and had preached it morning and evening to his congregation. With this sermon I intend to begin, God willing, next Sunday, not doubting but that He, who increased a little lad's loaves and fishes for the feeding of a great multitude, will, from time to time, supply me with spiritual food for whatever congregations He, in His all-wise providence, shall be pleased to call me to. Help, help me, my dear friend, with your warmest addresses to the throne of grace. At present, this is the language of my heart—
"'A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,Into Thy hands I fall;Be Thou my strength, my righteousness,My Jesus, and my all.'
"'A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,Into Thy hands I fall;Be Thou my strength, my righteousness,My Jesus, and my all.'
"Oh, cease not to pray for
"Yours, etc.,"George Whitefield."
To another friend, he wrote, on June 26th, "To-morrow I am to preach at Crypt, but, believe me, I shall displease some, being determined to speak against their assemblies.But I must tell them the truth, or otherwise I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ." To-morrow came. Whitefield preached his first sermon; and, three days afterwards, wrote as follows:—
"Gloucester,June 30, 1736."My dear Friend,—Glory! glory! glory be ascribed to an Almighty, Triune God. Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I preached my first sermon in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, where I was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a large congregation together. The sight at first a little awed me; but I was comforted with a heartfelt sense of the Divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners, and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the University. By these means, I was kept from being daunted over-much. As I proceeded, I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd who knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of gospel authority. A few mocked, but most for the present seemed struck; and I have since heard that a complaint has been made to the bishop that I drove fifteen mad. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday."
"Gloucester,June 30, 1736.
"My dear Friend,—Glory! glory! glory be ascribed to an Almighty, Triune God. Last Sunday, in the afternoon, I preached my first sermon in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, where I was baptized, and also first received the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Curiosity, as you may easily guess, drew a large congregation together. The sight at first a little awed me; but I was comforted with a heartfelt sense of the Divine presence, and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to public speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners, and poor people at their private houses, whilst at the University. By these means, I was kept from being daunted over-much. As I proceeded, I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young, and amidst a crowd who knew me in my childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of gospel authority. A few mocked, but most for the present seemed struck; and I have since heard that a complaint has been made to the bishop that I drove fifteen mad. The worthy prelate, as I am informed, wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday."
Thus did the renowned evangelist begin his ministry. Great was the effect produced. A few mocked; but most of the congregation displayed profound emotion, and, to use the slang of the young preacher's enemies, "fifteen were driven mad." Bishop Benson himself was probably not present; but the next day Whitefield wrote, "Our good bishop was pleased to give me another present of five guineas, a great supply for one who had not a guinea in the world."
The reader can easily imagine the scene in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, where the usual congregations, as in most other churches at that period, were far from overflowing. Now there was a crowd—of whom? old men, who, in years long since past, had been boon companions of Whitefield's father; aged women, who remembered him when he was a tiny infant in his mother's arms; topers, not a few, whom, as a blue-aproned tapster, he had served in the neighbouring public-house; schoolfellows with whom he had been associated in many a merry spree; and a mingled multitude who knew him only as a Gloucester boy, who, by his own exertions, had made himself an honour tohis native town. And what about the preacher? There he stands, in a position which he had never occupied before, in diaconal gown and bands, somewhat awed by the multitude before him, and by a conviction of the responsibility of the office which he was now assuming; but, at the same time, nerved with fidelity to his Master, and comforted by a consciousness that God was with him; his stature above the middle height—slender, and yet well-proportioned; his manner graceful; his features regular; his complexion fair; his eyes small, lively, and of a dark-blue colour, one of them with a squint, occasioned by the measles in his childhood days; his voice unusual, both in melody and strength, and its fine modulations accompanied by the exquisite action of an accomplished orator. No wonder that one of his uneducated hearers said "he preached like a lion." The comparison was far from perfect. It expressed the force and vehemence of that oratory which awed his hearers, and made them tremble like Felix before Paul; but it failed to convey an idea of the fervent and melting charity, the earnestness of persuasion, and the outpouring of redundant love, which characterised the preaching of this youthful evangelist for the next four and thirty years.[58]
The subject of his first sermon was, "The Necessity and Benefit of Religious Society;"[59]probably the same sermon he afterwards preached before the Religious Societies, at one of their quarterly meetings, in Bow Church, London, and which was immediately published. "I shall displease some," said Whitefield in a letter already quoted, "for I am determined to speak against theirassemblies." How he fulfilled his determination will be seen by the following extract from his sermon:—
"I warn you of the great danger those are in, who, either by their subscriptions, presence, or approbation, promote Societies of a quite opposite nature to religion. And here I would not be understood to mean only those public meetings which are designed manifestly for nothing else but revellings and banquetings, for chambering and wantonness, and at which a modestheathenwould blush to be present; but also those seeminglyinnocententertainments and meetings which thepoliterpart of the world are so very fond of, and spend so much time in; but which, notwithstanding, keep as many persons out of a sense oftrue religionas intemperance, debauchery, or any other crime whatever. Indeed, whilst we are in this world, we must have proper relaxations, to fit us both for the business of our profession and religion. But then, for persons who call themselvesChristians, that have solemnly vowed at theirbaptism, to renounce thevanitiesof this sinful world, and that are commanded in Scripture to 'abstain from all appearance of evil,' and to have their 'conversation in heaven,'—for such persons as these to support meetings that (to say no worse of them) are vain and trifling, and have a natural tendency to draw off our minds from God, is absurd, ridiculous, and sinful."
"I warn you of the great danger those are in, who, either by their subscriptions, presence, or approbation, promote Societies of a quite opposite nature to religion. And here I would not be understood to mean only those public meetings which are designed manifestly for nothing else but revellings and banquetings, for chambering and wantonness, and at which a modestheathenwould blush to be present; but also those seeminglyinnocententertainments and meetings which thepoliterpart of the world are so very fond of, and spend so much time in; but which, notwithstanding, keep as many persons out of a sense oftrue religionas intemperance, debauchery, or any other crime whatever. Indeed, whilst we are in this world, we must have proper relaxations, to fit us both for the business of our profession and religion. But then, for persons who call themselvesChristians, that have solemnly vowed at theirbaptism, to renounce thevanitiesof this sinful world, and that are commanded in Scripture to 'abstain from all appearance of evil,' and to have their 'conversation in heaven,'—for such persons as these to support meetings that (to say no worse of them) are vain and trifling, and have a natural tendency to draw off our minds from God, is absurd, ridiculous, and sinful."
This certainly was plain speaking in the first sermon of a young man only a little more than twenty-one years of age; but it is exactly what might be expected from an Oxford Methodist; and something like it is greatly needed, and would be highly useful in the pulpits of the present day. Would that preachers now had more of the uncompromising, bold, conscientious fidelity that marked the young evangelist among his townsmen in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester! Prophets "prophesy smooth things; and the people love to have it so." It was otherwise with Whitefield. "I must tell them the truth," said he to his friend only a few hours before he preached his first sermon, "I must tell them the truth, or I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ." From this he never swerved. To the end of life it was one of his great guiding principles. It often brought upon him the ridicule of wicked wits, and the displeasure of many who imagined themselves Christians; but to all this Whitefield was indifferent. His Master was Christ; and, "to his own Master," he was determined to stand or fall (Rom. xiv. 4). Not long before his death, he said, "I remember when I began to speak against baptismal regeneration—in my first sermon, printed when I was about twenty-two years old, or a little more—the first quarrel many had with me was because I did not say that all people who were baptized were born again. I would as soon believe the doctrine of transubstantiation. Can I believe that a person who, from the time of his baptism to the time, perhaps, of his death, never fights against; the world, the flesh, and the devil, and never minds oneword of what his god-fathers and god-mothers promised for him, is a real Christian? No, I can as soon believe that a little wafer in the hands of a priest is the very blood and bones of Jesus Christ."[60]
So much then in reference to Whitefield's notable sermon in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, on June 27th, 1736,—the first of upwards of eighteen thousand which he preached before he died.[61]
On June 30th, he returned to Oxford, "where," he says, "I was received with great joy by my religious friends. For about a week, I continued in my servitor's habit, and then took my degree of Bachelor of Arts. My dear and honoured friends, the Reverend Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, being now for some time embarked for Georgia, and one or two more having taken orders, the interest of Methodism, as it was then and is now termed, had visibly declined, and very few of this reputed mad way were left at the University. This somewhat discouraged me at times, but the Lord Jesus supported my soul, and made me easy by giving me a strong conviction that I was where He would have me to be. I soon found my degree was of service to me, as it gave me access to those I could not be free with when in an inferior situation; and, as opportunity offered, I was enabled to converse with them about the things which belonged to the kingdom of God. The subscriptions for the poor prisoners, which amounted to about £40 per annum, were soon put into my hands. Two or three small charity schools, maintained by the Methodists, were under my more immediate inspection; which, with the time I spent in following my studies, private retirement, and religious converse, sweetly filled up the whole of my day, and kept me from the too common complaint of having any time hang upon my hands. The distributing money and books amongst the poor prisoners, and employing such as could work, I found was of admirable service. For hereby they were kept from that worst of gaol diseases—idleness; and were not only convinced that we bore a good will towards them,but also led them, as it were, under an obligation to hear the instructions we gave them. This practice was first taken up by the Messrs. Wesley; and would to God all ordinaries of prisons would copy their good example! They would deserve well of the Commonwealth, and if actuated by the love of God, would receive a glorious reward from Him, who hath said, 'I was sick and in prison, and ye came unto me.'"[62]
Whitefield was happy—happy in himself, in his associates, in his work, and in his hope of heaven. A week after his arrival at Oxford, he wrote:—
"The very idea of what we are to be in glory transports me. There, there, we shall see the blessed Jesus, whom our souls have so eagerly thirsted after in this life, surrounded with glory, and attended with myriads of His holy angels, who will rejoice at our safe arrival to their holy mansions, and with repeated echoes will welcome us to heaven. There, there, we shall not only see, but live with Him, not for a day, a month, a year, an age, but to all eternity. And who can tell the pleasure, comfort, peace, joy, delight, and transport a glorified saint will feel in the possession of his wished-for, longed-for, ever adorable, ever gracious, blessed, beloved triune God, and that for ever? Surely the happiness will be so great, that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the heart of man conceive the thousandth part thereof."
"The very idea of what we are to be in glory transports me. There, there, we shall see the blessed Jesus, whom our souls have so eagerly thirsted after in this life, surrounded with glory, and attended with myriads of His holy angels, who will rejoice at our safe arrival to their holy mansions, and with repeated echoes will welcome us to heaven. There, there, we shall not only see, but live with Him, not for a day, a month, a year, an age, but to all eternity. And who can tell the pleasure, comfort, peace, joy, delight, and transport a glorified saint will feel in the possession of his wished-for, longed-for, ever adorable, ever gracious, blessed, beloved triune God, and that for ever? Surely the happiness will be so great, that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the heart of man conceive the thousandth part thereof."
For a few weeks Whitefield devoted himself to the work of endeavouring to benefit the prisoners in Oxford gaol; and then wrote as follows:—
"I began to be more than content in my present state of life, and had thoughts of abiding at the University, at least for some years, to finish my studies, and do what good I could amongst the poor despised Methodists. But, by a series of unforeseen, unexpected, and unsought-for providences, I was called from my beloved retirement to take a journey to the Metropolis. Whilst I was an undergraduate, I was very intimate with one Mr. Broughton,[63]a professed Methodist, who had lately taken orders, and was curate at the Tower of London. With him, when absent, I frequently corresponded; and, when present, we took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God as friends. Being called down into Hampshire, he wrote me to be of good courage, and bid me hasten to town to officiate in his absence. Accordingly, on Wednesday, August 4th, (the prisoners beingprovided for by the coming of Mr. Hervey,[64]another young worthy Methodist, who had lately taken Deacon's Orders,) with fear and trembling, I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London. There being no other passenger, I employed myself a good part of the way in earnest supplication to the God of all grace to be my guide and comforter. In the evening, I reached the Tower, and was kindly received by my dear friend. The remainder of the week was spent in visiting Sir John Philips, etc., who were too glad to see me. But God sent me something to ballast it; for, as I passed along the streets, many came out of their shops to see so young a person in a gown and cassock; and one cried out, 'There's a boy parson;' which served to mortify my pride, and put me also upon turning the apostolical exhortation into prayer, 'Let no man despise thy youth.'"[65]
"I began to be more than content in my present state of life, and had thoughts of abiding at the University, at least for some years, to finish my studies, and do what good I could amongst the poor despised Methodists. But, by a series of unforeseen, unexpected, and unsought-for providences, I was called from my beloved retirement to take a journey to the Metropolis. Whilst I was an undergraduate, I was very intimate with one Mr. Broughton,[63]a professed Methodist, who had lately taken orders, and was curate at the Tower of London. With him, when absent, I frequently corresponded; and, when present, we took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God as friends. Being called down into Hampshire, he wrote me to be of good courage, and bid me hasten to town to officiate in his absence. Accordingly, on Wednesday, August 4th, (the prisoners beingprovided for by the coming of Mr. Hervey,[64]another young worthy Methodist, who had lately taken Deacon's Orders,) with fear and trembling, I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London. There being no other passenger, I employed myself a good part of the way in earnest supplication to the God of all grace to be my guide and comforter. In the evening, I reached the Tower, and was kindly received by my dear friend. The remainder of the week was spent in visiting Sir John Philips, etc., who were too glad to see me. But God sent me something to ballast it; for, as I passed along the streets, many came out of their shops to see so young a person in a gown and cassock; and one cried out, 'There's a boy parson;' which served to mortify my pride, and put me also upon turning the apostolical exhortation into prayer, 'Let no man despise thy youth.'"[65]