In August, he settled a schoolmaster in an adjacent village; leaving Mr. Habersham at Savannah, and parting affectionately with his flock, he went to South Carolina. At Charleston, he paid a visit to Commissary Garden, and at his entreaty preached the next Sabbath morning and evening, in a grand church resembling one of the new churches in London. The people at first despised his youth; but his engaging address soon gained their general esteem. Mr. Garden thanked him most cordially, and apprised him of the ill treatment Mr. Wesley had met with in Georgia, and assured him, that were the same arbitrary proceedings to commence against him, he would defend him with his life and fortune. He also said something about the colony of Georgia, that much encouraged him, as if he thought its flourishing was not very far off; and that Charleston was fifteen times larger now, than when he (Mr. Garden) first came there.

It had been his practice in Georgia, especially at Savannah, to read prayers and expound, and visit the sick, twice a day. On Sunday he expounded at five in the morning; at ten read. prayers and preached, and at three in the afternoon and at seven in the evening expounded the church catechism. How much easier was it for the clergy in England, Scotland, or America, to find fault with such a faithful brother in the ministry, than to follow his example!

CHAPTER IV.

From his embarking at Charleston for London, to his preaching first at Moorfields, 1739.

SEPTEMBER 6, 1738, Mr. Whitefield embarked in a ship bound from Charleston to London. They had a very uncomfortable passage. For almost a fortnight they were beat about not far from the bar; they were soon reduced to an allowance of water; and the ship itself was quite out of repair They were also very poorly off for provisions. When they had advanced about a third part of their passage, they met with a Jamaica-man, who had plenty of every thing. He sent for Mr. Whitefield on board, and offered him a most commodious birth; but he did not think it right to leave his shipmates in distress, and therefore returned to his own ship, with such things as they were pleased to give him. The remaining part

I determined to inure myself to hardships, by lying constantly on the ground, which, by use, I found to be so far from being a hardship, that afterwards it became so to lie in a bed." MS.

of the voyage was still more perilous. The only thing comfortable was, that, in the midst of these trials, deep impressions were made on some that were on board. All constantly attended public worship twice, and some thrice, a day. Once the captain cried out, "Lord, break this hard heart of mine." Others were impressed; particularly one Captain Gladman, a passenger, on whom a great change was wrought, and who afterwards, at his own earnest request, became Mr. Whitefield's fellow traveler. At length, after nine weeks tossing and beating to and fro, they found themselves in Limerick harbor.*

At Limerick, Bishop Burscough received him very kindly, and engaged him to preach in the cathedral, the good effects of which he heard of many years after. From thence he went to Dublin, where he preached and was courteously received by Dr. Delany, Bishop Rundell, and Archbishop Bolton, who had heard of him from a gentleman of Gibraltar. And, after a passage of twenty-four hours from Dublin, he arrived at Parkgate, Thursday, November 30, preached twice on the Lord's day, ⚫ at Manchester, and came to London the Friday following, December 8.

Here he had a conference with the Moravian brethren, who had lately come to London; and though he could not directly fall in with their way of expressing themselves, yet he heartily agreed with them in the old Protestant doctrine of justification in the sight of God, by faith alone in the imputed righteousness of Christ; and was not a little delighted to find a great increase of the work of God, both as to light and love, doctrine and practice, through the instrumentality of Mr. Charles, and especially of Mr. John Wesley.

Some of the clergy now began to show their displeasure more and more; so that in two days five churches were denied him. And though the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London, both received him civilly, it was but coldly: and the latter inquired, "Whether his Journals were not a little tinctured with enthusiasm." He replied, that they were written only for himself, and private friends, and were published entirely without his consent or knowledge, or so much as his consent being asked at all. The trustees for the colony of

"I wish I could never forget what I felt when water and other provision were brought us from ashore. One Mr. MacMahon, a country gentleman, came from his seat at midnight on purpose to relieve us, and most kindly invited me, though unknown, to his house to stay as long as I pleased." MS.

It was certainly wrong to publish them without his consent and revisal; otherwise, the publication of them was a very proper way to prevent the mis representation of facts, either by calumny and detraction on the one hand, or by exaggeration on the other. Ånd it is a great pity he did not continue them. They would have been the best possible memoirs of his life. But we see how the offense given by, or taken at, some passages, might help to determine him

Georgia received him more cordially, were pleased to express their satisfaction at the accounts sent them of his conduct during his stay in the colony: and, being requested, by letters sent, unknown to him, from the magistrates and inhabitants, they most willingly presented him to the living of Savannah, (though he insisted upon having no salary) and as readily granted him five hundred acres of land, whereon to erect an Orphan-house; to collect money for which, together with taking priest's orders, were the chief motives of his returning to England so soon.

Nearly a month elapsed before a board sat to make him these returns. But during that interval he was not idle. He and his brethren went on in their usual course, preaching occasionally as churches were allowed them.* And though the church wardens and clergy were averse, yet the common people were rather more eager than ever. But what surprised him most was, to see many of the heads and members of the London societies (who, by the accounts given by Drs. Woodward and Horneck, het thought, were founded on a good bottom) make such virulent opposition. However, numbers of "to proceed, (as he afterwards says) in a more compendious way." The Journals were, indeed, mostly written amidst his incessant labors in preaching, traveling, and writing a multitude of letters. And the whole was told with the unguarded simplicity, which, though it charms the candid, and disposes them to forgive or overlook many things, yet gives frequent handle to the critical and severe. It must also be owned, that his unsuspecting honesty made him sometimes receive with too little caution, the characters of persons and societies, from those whom he took to be the friends of religion, and who perhaps were really so, but were misinformed. Being therefore convinced, upon second thoughts, that his Journals and the two first parts of his Life needed correction, he promised a new edition to them, which he accordingly published in 1756. And in the preface he ingeniously acknowledges, that, upon a review, he had found “ many mistakes," (which are now rectified,) and many passages that were justly exceptionable," (which are now erased.) And in a note, upon September 24, 1740, he says, "In my former journal, taking things by hearsay too much, I spoke and wrote too rashly, both of the colleges and ministers of New England; for which as I have already done, when at Boston last, from the pulpit, I take this opportunity of asking public pardon from the press. It was rash and uncharitable, and, though well meant, I fear did hurt." But these corrections, while they show the author's candor and humility, do not affect the history of his extraordinary labors and success in the work of the gospel.

"God gave us a most pleasant gospel Christmas season, and such a happy beginning of a new year, as I had never seen before."

"On the first night of the new year," says Wesley, "Mr. Hall, Kinchin, Ingham, Whitefield, Hutchins, and my brother Charles, were present at our love-feast, with about sixty of our brethern. About three in the morning, as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch, that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we were recovered a little from that awe and amazement at the presence of His majesty, we broke out with one voice, We praise thee, O God; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord."

+ See Dr. Woodward's Account of the Rise and Progress of the Religions Societies in the city of London, &c.

them were of another mind, and other societies were soon formed in various parts of the town. A large room in Fetterlane was the general place of rendezvous, where they had frequent meetings, and great satisfaction in social prayer.* At the same time, the people crowded into the churches that were open, and were affected more than ever. And he and his brethren were so much engaged, that for some days he could walk, and preach, and visit societies, with very little sleep, and religious exercises seemed to be their meat and drink.

January 11, 1739, he set out for Oxford, to receive priest's orders from his good friend Bishop Benson,† which he did the next Lord's day; and having preached and administered the sacrament at the Castle, and preached again in the afternoon, to a crowded congregation, he returned to London, January 15. As he had collected so much for the charity schools last year, he reasonably supposed that the pulpits would not be denied him for the use of the Georgia Orphan-house this year. But the religious concern advancing, and spreading more and more, opposition also increased. A pamphlet was published against his sermon on Regeneration. Several clergymen made strong objections against him and his brethren, for expounding in societies; and some people were threatened with prosecution by their parish ministers, for suffering them to expound in their houses. Yet this did not discourage either preachers or hearers. The more they were opposed the more they were strengthened. New awakenings were heard of in various parts; and, "What shall I do to be saved?" was the question every day repeated.

All the pulpits were not as yet shut up. Two or three churches were allowed him to preach in, and to collect for the Georgia orphans, and for erecting a church for the poor Saltz

"It was a Pentecost season indeed. Sometimes whole nights were spent in prayer. Often have we been filled as with new wine. And often have I seen them overwhelmed with the Divine Presence, and crying out,' Will God, indeed, dwell with men upon earth!-How dreadful is this place!-This is no other than the house of God, and the gate of Heaven!" MS.

+ Shortly after the late Countess of Huntingdon was brought to the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus, Bishop Benson, who had been Lord Huntingdon's tutor, was sent for in order to reason with her ladyship respecting her opinions and conduct. But she pressed him so hard with articles and homilies; and so plainly and faithfully urged upon him the awful responsibility of his station under the great head of the church, Jesus Christ, that his temper was ruffled, and he rose up in haste to depart, bitterly lamenting that he had ever laid his hands on George Whitefield, to whom he imputed, though with out cause, the change wrought in her ladyship. She called him back; "My lord," said she, "mark my words: when you come upon your dying bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with complacence." It deserves remark, that Bishop Benson on his dying bed, sent ten guineas to Mr. Whitefield, as a token of his favor and approbation, and begged to be remembered by him in his prayers.

burghers at Ebenezer. One Mr. Broughton behaved nobly on this occasion. Application being made to him to deny Mr. Whitefield his pulpit, he answered, "Having got the lectureship of St. Helen's by Mr. Whitefield's influence, if he insists upon it, he shall have my pulpit." Mr. Whitefield did insist upon it, but (Mr. Broughton loosing the lectureship) he afterwards blamed himself much for his conduct.

In Bristol he had the use of the churches for two or three Sundays, but soon found they would not be open very long. The dean was not at home: the chancellor threatened to silence and suspend him.* In about a fortnight, every door was shut, except Newgate, where he preached, and collected for the poor prisoners, and where people thronged, and were much impressed; but this place, also, was soon shut against him, by orders from the mayor.

One Sunday, when Whitefield was preaching at Bermondsey church, as he tells us,,, with great freedom in his heart, and clearness in his voice," to a crowded congregation, near a thousand people stood in the church-yard during the service, hundreds went away who could not find room, and he had a strong inclination to go out and preach to them from one of the tomb-stones. "This," he says, "put me first upon thinking of preaching without doors. I mentioned it to some friends, who looked upon it as a mad notion. However we knelt down and prayed that nothing might be done rashly. Hear and answer, O Lord, for thy name's sake!".

About a fortnight afterwards he went to Bristol. Near that city is a tract of country called Kingswood; formerly, as its name implies, it had been a royal chase, containing between three and four thousand acres, but it had been gradually appropriated by the several lords whose estates lay around about its borders: and their title, which for a long time was no better than what possession gave them, had been legalized. The

When Whitefield arrived at Bristol, the chancellor of that diocese had old him that he would not prohibit any minister from lending him a church; but in the course of the week he sent for him, and told him he intended to stop his proceedings. He then asked him by what authority he preached in the diocese of Bristol without a license. Whitefield replied, "I thought that custom was grown obsolete. And why, pray, sir, did not you ask the clergyman this question who preached for you last Thursday?" The chancellor then read to him those canons which forbade any minister from preaching in a private house. Whitefield answered, he apprehended they did not apply to professed ministers of the church of England. When he was informed of his mistake, he said, "There is also a canon, sir, forbidding all clergymen to frequent taverns and play at cards; why is not that put in execution?" and he added, that notwithstanding those canons, he could not but speak the things which he knew, and that he was resolved to proceed as usual. The answer was written down, and the chancellor then said, "I am resolved, sir, if you preach or expound any where in this diocese till you have a license, I will first suspend, and then excommunicate you."