George Whitefield: A Biography, with special reference to his labors in America

It may be appropriate to introduce here a sketch of Whitefield's doctrines and labors at this time, as given us by the eminent Dr. Thomas Prince, in his "Christian History," under date of January 26, 1744-5, but having reference to Whitefield's first visit to New England, which we have just described:

"He spoke with a mighty sense of God, eternity, the immortality and preciousness of the souls of his hearers, of their original corruption, and of the extreme danger the unregenerate are in; with the nature and absolute necessity of regeneration by the Holy Ghost; and of believing in Christ, in order to our pardon, justification, yielding an acceptable obedience, and obtaining salvation from hell and an entrance into heaven. His doctrine was plainly that of the reformers; declaring against our putting our good works or morality in the room of Christ's righteousness, or their having any hand in our justification, or being indeed pleasing to God while we are totally unsanctified, acting upon corrupt principles, and unreconciled enemies to him; which occasioned some to mistake him, as if he opposed morality. But he insisted on it, that the tree of the heart is by original sin exceedingly corrupted, and must be made good by regeneration, that so the fruits proceeding from it may be good likewise; that where the heart is renewed, it ought and will be careful to maintain good works, that if any be not habitually so careful who think themselves renewed, they deceive their own souls; and even the most improved in holiness, as well as others, must entirely depend on the righteousness of Christ for the acceptance of their persons and services. And though now and then he dropped some expressions that were not so accurate and guarded as we should expect from aged and long-studied ministers, yet I had the satisfaction to observe his readiness with great modesty and thankfulness to receive correction as soon as offered.

"In short, he was a most importunate wooer of souls to come to Christ for the enjoyment of him, and all his benefits. He distinctly applied his exhortations to the elderly people, the middle-aged, the young, the Indians, and negroes, and had a most winning way of addressing them. He affectionately prayed for our magistrates, ministers, colleges, candidates for the ministry, and churches, as well as people in general; and before he left us, in a public and moving manner, he observed to the people how sorry he was to hear that the religious assemblies, especially on lectures, had been so thin, exhorted them earnestly to a more general attendance on our public ministrations for the time to come, and told them how glad he should be to hear of the same.

"Multitudes were greatly affected, and many awakened with his lively ministry. Though he preached every day, the houses were crowded; but when he preached on the Common, a vaster number attended; and almost every evening the house where he lodged was thronged to hear his prayers and counsels.

"On Mr. Whitefield's leaving us, great numbers in this town [Boston] were so happily concerned about their souls, as we had never seen any thing like it before, except at the time of the general earthquake;1 and their desires excited to hear their ministers more than ever. So that our assemblies, both on lectures and Sabbaths, were surprisingly increased, and now the people wanted to hear us oftener. In consequence of which a public lecture was proposed to be set up at Dr. Colman's church, near the midst of the town, on every Tuesday evening."

In reference to the work of grace which was connected with Whitefield's preaching in New England, the Rev. Dr. Baron Stow, in his "Centennial Discourse," says, "The result, by the blessing of God, was a powerful revival, such as New England had never witnessed. The work was opposed with great vehemence; and no impartial reader of the history of those extraordinary scenes can question that much of the hostility was provoked by improprieties of both speech and action, that would at any time be offensive to those who love good order and Christian decorum. But after making liberal allowance for all that was truly exceptionable, it is cheerfully admitted by the candid Christian, that the excitement was, in the main, the product of the Holy Spirit, and that its fruits were eminently favorable to the advancement of true religion. A torpid community was aroused, as by the trump of God, from its long and heavy slumber; ministers and people were converted; the style of preaching, and the tone of individual piety were improved; a cold, cadaverous formalism gave place to the living energy of experimental godliness; the doctrines of the gospel were brought out from their concealment, and made to reassert their claims to a cordial, practical credence, and all the interests of truth and holiness received new homage from regenerated thousands."

One or two other facts connected with Whitefield's usefulness in New England are too important to be omitted. During this visit he was much gratified by an interview with a colored man, who had been his chaise-driver when he first visited Cambridge. The negro had heard him preach in the college a sermon especially addressed "to those who labor and are heavy-laden." It took such a hold on the poor man, that he repeated it in the kitchen when he reached home. Mr. Cooper of Boston was so well satisfied, as was Whitefield also, with his account of his conversion, that he was admitted to the Lord's table.

Another "brand plucked from the burning" was a son of Mackintosh, an English rebel, who had been condemned to perpetual imprisonment, and had been allowed by George the First to settle in New England. One of his daughters, a lady of fortune, had heard Whitefield preach in Dr. Prince's church at Boston, and had been won by the word to Christ. She was soon after smitten by sickness, and ripened rapidly for heaven. On her death-bed she cried out for her "soul friend" Mr. Whitefield; but checking her own impatience, she asked, "Why should I do so? He is gone about his Master's work, and in a little time we shall meet to part no more." The distinguished evangelist had a very high opinion of her piety, and his interest in her was increased by the fact that she had a very remarkable escape from some ruffians who had been bribed to convey her and her sister to Scotland, that their uncle might seize on an estate worth a thousand pounds a year.

There were at this time not less than twenty ministers in the neighborhood of Boston who unhesitatingly spoke of Whitefield as their spiritual father, directly tracing their conversion to his ministry. Of one of these we have an account by Collins, the journalist of South Reading. Speaking of 1741, he says, "Mr. Whitefield preached upon our Common in the open air. Mr. Hobby the minister went with the multitude to hear him. It is said that Mr. Hobby afterwards remarked, he came to pick a hole in Mr. Whitefield's coat, but that Whitefield picked a hole in his heart. Mr. Hobby afterwards wrote and published a defence of Mr. Whitefield in a letter to Mr. Henchman, the minister of Lynn, who had written against him."

The letters of Whitefield, during his journeys of eleven hundred miles in New England, were few and brief; but they clearly indicated that at this time he was inclined "to return no more to his native country." New England, notwithstanding his trials there, had evidently won his heart, and for a time almost weaned him from Great Britain. When he left it, as he was now about to do, for the south, he wrote, "God only knows what a cross it was to me to leave dear New England so soon. I hope death will not be so bitter to me as was parting with my friends. Glad shall I be to be prayed thither again before I see my native land. I would just be where He would have me, although in the uttermost parts of the earth. I am now hunting for poor lost sinners in these ungospelized wilds."

Is there not an awfully retributive providence connected with the rejection of the gospel and its ministers? Do we not see this principle at work in the history and present state of the Jews; and has it not often appeared also in the history of Christianity? There was a beautiful village, now a city, in Massachusetts, from which Whitefield was driven with such rancorous abuse, that he shook off the dust of his feet, and proclaimed that the Spirit of God would not visit that spot till the last of those persecutors was dead. The good man's language had a fearful truth in it, though he was not divinely gifted with the prophet's inspiration. A consciousness of desertion paralyzed the energies of the church; for nearly a century it was nurtured on the unwholesome food of unscriptural doctrine. In the very garden of natural loveliness, it sat like a heath in the desert, upon which there could be no rain; and not till that whole generation had passed from the earth, did Zion appear there in her beauty and strength.

CHAPTER VII.

LABORS IN NEW YORK AND THE MIDDLE AND SOUTHERN STATES.

1740, 1741

Whitefield was now again on his way to New York, preaching at Rye and King's Bridge on the road. At the latter place he was met by several friends from the city, with whom he pleasantly talked, "and found," he says, "an inexpressible satisfaction in my soul when I arrived at the house of my very dear friend Mr. Noble. After supper the Lord filled my heart, and gave me to wrestle with him for New York inhabitants and my own dear friends." He was also cheered by meeting Mr. Davenport from Long Island, whose labors as an evangelist were then exciting much interest. Here too he met with a violent pamphlet published against him. "Met also with two volumes of sermons published in London as delivered by me, though I never preached on most of the texts. But Satan must try all ways to bring the work of God into contempt."

On the morning after his arrival, Whitefield preached in Mr. Pemberton's meeting-house, and says concerning the service, "Never saw the word of God fall with such weight in New York before. Two or three cried out. Mr. Noble could scarce refrain himself. And look where I would, many seemed deeply wounded. At night the word was attended with great power. One cried out; and the Lord enabled me at the latter end of my sermon to speak with authority. Alas, how vain are the thoughts of men! As I came along yesterday, I found my heart somewhat dejected, and told Mr. Noble I expected but little moving in New York; but he bid me 'expect great things from God,' and likewise told me of several who were, as he hoped, savingly wrought upon by my ministry when I was there last."

On the following day he finished his answer to the pamphlet already referred to, and says, "God enabled me to write it in the spirit of meekness." He adds, "Preached twice as yesterday to very crowded auditories, and neither time without power. In the evening exercise some fainted, and the Lord seemed to show us more and more that a time for favoring New York was near at hand. Oh, wherefore did I doubt? Lord, increase my faith."

The following day, November 2, was the Sabbath. "Preached this morning with freedom and some power, but was much dejected before the evening sermon. For near half an hour before I left Mr. Noble's house, I could only lie before the Lord, and say I was a poor sinner, and wonder that Christ would be gracious to such a wretch. As I went to meeting I grew weaker and weaker, and when I came into the pulpit I could have chosen to be silent rather than speak. But after I had begun, the Spirit of the Lord gave me freedom, till at length it came down like a mighty rushing wind, and carried all before it. Immediately the whole congregation was alarmed. Shrieking, crying, weeping, and wailing were to be heard in every corner; men's hearts failing them for fear, and many falling into the arms of their friends. My soul was carried out till I could scarcely speak any more. A sense of God's goodness overwhelmed me."

After narrating two or three pleasing incidents as to the effect of his preaching even on the minds of children, and describing his feelings on his return home, he gives an account of the wedding of two young persons who were going as his assistants to Georgia. "Never," he says, "did I see a more solemn wedding. Jesus Christ was called, and he was present in a remarkable manner. After Mr. Pemberton had married them, I prayed. But my soul, how was it enabled to wrestle with and lay hold on God! I was in a very great agony, and the Holy Ghost was so remarkably present, that most, I believe, could say, 'Surely God is in this place.' After this, divine manifestations flowed in so fast, that my frail tabernacle was scarce able to sustain them. My dear friends sat round me on the bedsides. I prayed for each of them alternately with strong cries, and pierced by the eye of faith even within the veil. I continued in this condition for about half an hour, astonished at my own vileness and the excellency of Christ, then rose full of peace and love and joy."

On Monday, the 3d, he preached both morning and afternoon to increasing congregations, and says, "There was a great and gracious melting both times, but no crying out. Nearly £110 currency were collected for the orphans; and in the evening many came and took an affectionate leave. About seven we took boat; reached Staten Island about ten, greatly refreshed in my inner man. A dear Christian friend received us gladly, and we solaced ourselves by singing and praying. About midnight retired to sleep, still longing for that time when I shall sleep no more."

On Tuesday he preached on Staten Island from a wagon, to three or four hundred people. "The Lord came among them," and several inquired after the way of salvation. Here he met Gilbert Tennent and Mr. Cross. The former of these excellent ministers had recently lost his wife, and though he was ardently attached to her, he calmly preached her funeral sermon with the corpse lying before him. Tennent had lately been preaching in New Jersey and Maryland, and had a delightful account to give his friend of the progress of the good work. Nor was the account given by Mr. Cross of less interest. After sermon he rode to Newark, where he preached till dark, as he thought with but little good effect. "However, at night the Lord manifested forth his glory; for, coming down to family prayer where I lodged, and perceiving many young men around me, my soul was, as it were, melted down with concern for them. After singing, I gave a word of exhortation; with what power none can fully express but those that saw it. Oh, how did the word fall like a hammer and like a fire. What a weeping was there!"

We must stay a moment to give a fact or two in reference to the Rev. Aaron Burr, then quite a young man, who two or three years before had been ordained at Newark, and whose ministry had been attended with a delightful revival the year preceding Whitefield's visit. During the period of this revival, the neighboring village of Elizabethtown had been remarkable for its insensibility; even Whitefield had preached there, "and not a single known conversion," says Dr. Stearns, "followed his ministrations." Afterwards the pastor, the well-known Jonathan Dickinson, saw happy results from very plain preaching. Newark caught a new flame from its neighboring altar, and Mr. Burr, who had lately been to New England in quest of health, had heard the devoted evangelist again and again, and invited him to visit his flock, which he did about a month afterwards with happy results. The account given by Mr. Burr of Whitefield's preaching in New England was precisely what we should expect from the man who was afterwards the first president of Princeton college, and who, fourteen years after this, accompanied his eloquent friend to New England, "and saw at Boston, morning after morning, three or four thousand people hanging in breathless silence on the lips of the preacher, and weeping silent tears."

The Rev. Stephen Dodd of East Haven, Conn., relates that an old lady told him that when Mr. Whitefield came to preach in the old meeting-house at Newark, she was twelve years old, and as he entered the pulpit she looked at him with distrust, but before he got through his prayers herself and all the congregation were melted down, and the sermon filled the house with groans and tears. The next time he came, the congregation was so large that the pulpit window was taken out, and he preached through the opening to the people in the burying-ground.

On Wednesday, the 5th, he went to Baskinridge, Mr. Cross' parish, where he found Mr. Davenport, who, according to appointment, had been preaching to about three thousand people. He writes, "As I went along, I told a friend my soul wept for them, and I was persuaded within myself that the Lord would that day make his power to be known among them. In prayer, I perceived my soul drawn out, and a stirring of affections among the people. I had not discoursed long before the Holy Ghost displayed his power. In every part of the congregation somebody or other began to cry out, and almost all melted into tears. This abated for a few moments, till a little boy about seven or eight years of age cried out exceeding piteously indeed, and wept as though his little heart would break. Mr. Cross having compassion on him, took him up into the wagon, which so affected me, that I broke from my discourse, and told the people the little boy should preach to them, and that God, since old professors would not cry after Christ, had displayed his sovereignty, and out of an infant's mouth was perfecting praise. God so blessed this, that a universal concern fell on the congregation again. Fresh persons dropped down here and there, and the cry increased more and more."

In the evening, Gilbert Tennent preached excellently in Mr. Cross' barn, two miles off. His subject was the necessity and benefit of spiritual desertions, a remarkable subject, as has been said, at such a time, in a barn, and at night. "A great commotion," says Whitefield, "was soon observed among the hearers. I then gave a word of exhortation. The Lord's presence attended it in a surprising manner. One, in about six minutes, cried out, 'He is come, He is come!' and could scarcely sustain the discovery that Jesus Christ made of himself to his soul. Others were so earnest for a discovery of the Lord to their souls, that their eager crying obliged me to stop, and I prayed over them as I saw their agonies and distress increase. At length my own soul was so full that I retired, and was in a strong agony for some time, and wept before the Lord under a deep sense of my own vileness, and the sovereignty and greatness of God's everlasting love. Most of the people spent the remainder of the night in prayer and praise. Two or three young ministers spoke alternately, and others prayed as the Lord gave them utterance."

The next morning Whitefield exhorted, sung, and prayed with the people in the barn, and had some delightful conversation with a lad of thirteen, a poor negro woman, and several others. In company with several Christian friends, he then rode to the house of Gilbert Tennent in New Brunswick. Here he found letters from Savannah saying that great mortality existed in the neighborhood, but that the family at the orphan-house continued in health, and that a minister was about coming from England to take his church at Savannah. "This last," says he, "much rejoiced me, being resolved to give up the Savannah living as soon as I arrived in Georgia. A parish and the orphan-house together are too much for me; besides, God seems to show me it is my duty to evangelize, and not to fix in any particular place." Here he was met by William Tennent also, and after much conversation and prayer, it was settled that Gilbert Tennent should go to Boston to carry on the work so happily begun there. After preaching, exhortation, and prayer, Whitefield went with Davenport to Trenton, and so on to Philadelphia. On their way, they were twice remarkably preserved from drowning in creeks much swollen by the rains; and late on a very dark Saturday night arrived in the city, which had been already honored by his usefulness.

On the following day, he twice preached in the house which his friends were now building for him, and in which Gilbert Tennent labored for many years with great success. He says, "It is one hundred feet long and seventy feet broad. A large gallery is to be erected all around in it. Many footsteps of Providence have been visible in beginning and carrying it on. Both in the morning and evening God's glory filled the house, for there was great power in the congregation. The roof is not yet up, but the people raised a convenient pulpit and boarded the bottom. The joy of most of the hearers when they saw me was inexpressible. Between services, I received a packet of letters from England, dated in March last. May the Lord heal, and bring good out of the divisions which at present seem to be among the brethren there. God giving me freedom, and many friends being in the room, I kneeled down and prayed with and exhorted them all. But Oh, how did they melt under both; my soul was much rejoiced to look round on them."

A fact in connection with the building of this church edifice illustrates the practical philosophy of Dr. Franklin. Tennent waited on him for aid in the erection of the house, which was cheerfully afforded; the philosopher was asked by Tennent as to the best method of raising the necessary funds, who instantly recommended him to call at every house in the town to solicit help. He argued thus: "Many are really desirous to give, and will be glad to see you; others are inclined to be friendly, and will give if they are urged; a third will be sure, if they are omitted, to say they would have given had they been asked; and a fourth class will give you, rather than have it said they refused." Tennent acted on the doctor's counsel, and the funds were raised without difficulty.

Two instances of the happy influence of the truth in the conversion of sinners, in connection with this visit, must be given from Whitefield's own pen. The first related to a Mr. Brockden, a lawyer eminent in his profession, and the recorder of deeds for the city. For many years this gentleman had been distinguished for Deism. Whitefield writes, "In his younger days he had some religious impressions, but going into business, the cares of the world so choked the good seed, that he not only forgot his God in some degree, but at length began to doubt of and to dispute his very being. In this state he continued many years, and has been very zealous to propagate his deistical, I could almost say atheistical principles among moral men; but he told me he never endeavored to make proselytes of vicious, debauched people. When I came to Philadelphia, this time twelvemonth, he told me he had not so much as a curiosity to hear me. But a brother Deist, his choicest friend, pressed him to come and hear me. To satisfy his curiosity, he at length complied with the request. I preached at the court-house stairs, upon the conference which the Lord had with Nicodemus. I had not spoken much before the Lord struck his heart. 'For,' said he, 'I saw your doctrine tended to make people good.' His family knew not that he had been to hear me. After he came home, his wife, who had been at sermon, came in also, and wished heartily that he had heard me. He said nothing. After this, another of his family came in, repeating the same wish; and, if I mistake not, after that another; till at last, being unable to refrain any longer, with tears in his eyes, he said, 'Why, I have been hearing him;' and then expressed his approbation. Ever since he has followed on to know the Lord; and I verily believe Jesus Christ has made himself manifest to his soul. Though upwards of threescore years old, he is now, I believe, born again of God. He is as a little child, and often, as he told me, receives such communications from God, when he retires into the woods, that he thinks he could die a martyr for the truth."

The other instance was that of the captain of a ship, "as great a reprobate," says Whitefield, "as ever I heard of." This man used to go on board the transport ships, and offer a guinea for a new oath, that he might have the honor of making it. "To the honor of God's grace," says our evangelist, "let it be said, he is now, I believe, a Christian; not only reformed, but renewed. The effectual stroke, he told me, was given when I preached last spring at Pennepack. Ever since he has been zealous for the truth; stood like a lamb when he was beaten, and in danger of being murdered by some of my opposers, and, in short, shows his faith by his works."