{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_34727/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_34727","id":"gutenberg_34727","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/34727","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: British Literature","Category: History - American","Category: History - British","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","United States -- Church history -- To 1775","Whitefield, George, 1714-1770"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Heather Clark and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was\nproduced from scanned images of public domain material\nfrom the Google Print project.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                                  A SKETCH\n                                   OF THE\n                               LIFE AND LABORS\n                                     OF\n                              GEORGE WHITEFIELD.\n\n                                   BY THE\n                            REV. J. C. RYLE, B.A.,\n\n                Author of \"A Call to Prayer,\" \"Living or Dead,\"\n                      \"Wheat and Chaff,\" \"The Cross,\" &c.\n\n                                  NEW-YORK:\n                      ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 683 BROADWAY\n                                    1854.\n\n\n\n\n                              GEORGE WHITEFIELD.\n\n\nThere are some men in the pages of history, whose greatness no person of\ncommon sense thinks of disputing. They tower above the herd of mankind,\nlike the Pyramids, the Parthenon, and the Colosseum, among buildings.\nSuch men were Luther and Augustine, Gustavus Adolphus and George\nWashington, Columbus and Sir Isaac Newton. He who questions _their_\ngreatness must be content to be thought very ignorant, very prejudiced,\nor very eccentric. Public opinion has come to a conclusion about\nthem--they were great men.\n\nBut there are also great men whose reputation lies buried under a heap\nof contemporary ill-will and misrepresentation. The world does not\nappreciate them, because the world does not know their real worth. Their\ncharacters have come down to us through poisoned channels. Their\nportraits have been drawn by the ill-natured hand of enemies. Their\nfaults have been exaggerated. Their excellences have been maliciously\nkept back and suppressed. Like the famous sculptures of Nineveh, they\nneed the hand of some literary Layard to clear away the rubbish that has\naccumulated round their names, and show them to the world in their fair\nproportions. Such men were Vigilantius and Wickliffe. Such men were\nOliver Cromwell and many of the Puritans. And such a man was George\nWhitefield.\n\nThere are few men whose characters have suffered so much from ignorance\nand misrepresentation of the truth as Whitefield's.\n\nThat he was a famous Methodist, and ally of John Wesley, in the last\ncentury; that he was much run after by ignorant people, for his\npreaching; that many thought him an enthusiast and fanatic; all this is\nabout as much as most Englishmen know.\n\nBut that he was one of the principal champions of evangelical religion\nin the eighteenth century in our own country; that he was one of the\nmost powerful and effective preachers that ever lived; that he was a man\nof extraordinary singleness of eye, and devotedness to the interests of\ntrue religion; that he was a regularly ordained clergyman of the Church\nof England, and would always have worked in the Church, if the Church\nhad not, most unwisely, shut him out; all these are things, of which few\npeople seem aware. And yet, after calm examination of his life and\nwritings, I am satisfied this is the true account that ought to be given\nof George Whitefield.\n\nMy chief desire is to assist in forming a just estimate of Whitefield's\nworth. I wish to lend a helping hand towards raising his name from the\nundeservedly low place which is commonly assigned to it. I wish to place\nhim before your eyes as a noble specimen of what the grace of God can\nenable one man to do. I want you to treasure up his name in your\nmemories, as one of the brightest in that company of departed saints who\nwere, in their day, patterns of good works, and of whom the world was\nnot worthy.\n\nI propose, therefore, without further preface, to give you a hasty\nsketch of Whitefield's _times_, Whitefield's _life_, Whitefield's\n_religion_, Whitefield's _preaching_, and Whitefield's _actual work on\nearth_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n1. The story of Whitefield's times is one that should often be told.\nWithout it, no body is qualified to form an opinion either as to the man\nor his acts. Conduct that in one kind of times may seem rash,\nextravagant, and indiscreet, in another may be wise, prudent, and even\nabsolutely necessary. In forming your opinion of the comparative merits\nof Christian men, never forget the old rule: \"Distinguish between\ntimes.\" Place yourself in each man's position. Do not judge what was a\nright course of action in other times, by what seems a right course of\naction in your own.\n\nNow, the times when Whitefield lived were, unquestionably, the worst\ntimes that have ever been known in this country, since the Protestant\nReformation. There never was a greater mistake than to talk of \"the good\nold times.\" The times of the eighteenth century, at any rate, were \"bad\nold times,\" unmistakably. Whitefield was born in 1714. He died in 1770.\nIt is not saying too much to assert, that this was precisely the darkest\nage that England has passed through in the last three hundred years. Any\nthing more deplorable than the condition of the country, as to religion,\nmorality, and high principle, from 1700 to about the era of the French\nRevolution, it is very difficult to conceive.\n\nThe state of religion in the Established Church can only be compared to\nthat of a frozen or palsied carcass. _There_ were the time-honored\nformularies which the wisdom of the Reformers had provided. _There_ were\nthe services and lessons from Scripture, just in the same order as we\nhave them now. But, as to preaching the gospel in the Established\nChurch, there was almost none. The distinguishing doctrines of\nChristianity--the atonement, the work and office of Christ and the\nSpirit--were comparatively lost sight of. The vast majority of sermons\nwere miserable moral essays, utterly devoid of any thing calculated to\nawaken, convert, save, or sanctify souls. The curse of black\nBartholomew-day seemed to rest upon our Church. For at least a century\nafter casting out two thousand of the best ministers in England, our\nEstablishment never prospered.\n\nThere were some learned and conscientious bishops at this era, beyond\nquestion. Such men were Secker, and Gibson, and Lowth, and Warburton,\nand Butler, and Horne. But even the best of them sadly misunderstood the\nrequirements of the day they lived in. They spent their strength in\nwriting apologies for Christianity, and contending against infidels.\nThey could not see that, without the direct preaching of the essential\ndoctrines of Christ's gospel, their labors were all in vain. And, as to\nthe majority of the bishops, they were potent for negative evil, but\nimpotent for positive good; giants at stopping what they thought\ndisorder, but infants at devising any thing to promote real order;\nmighty to repress over-zealous attempts at evangelization, but weak to\nput in action any remedy for the evils of the age; eagle-eyed at\ndetecting any unhappy wight who trod on the toes of a rubric or canon,\nbut blind as bats to the flood of indolence and false doctrine with\nwhich their dioceses were every where deluged.\n\nThat there were many well-read, respectable and honorable men among the\nparochial clergy at this period, it would be wrong to deny. But few, it\nis to be feared, out of the whole number, preached Christ crucified in\nsimplicity and sincerity. Many whose lives were decent and moral, were\nnotoriously Arians, if not Socinians. Many were totally engrossed in\nsecular pursuits; they neither did good themselves, nor liked any one\nelse to do it for them. They hunted; they shot; they drank; they swore;\nthey fiddled; they farmed; they toasted Church and King, and thought\nlittle or nothing about saving souls. And as for the man who dared to\npreach the doctrine of the Bible, the Articles, and the Homilies, he was\nsure to be set down as an enthusiast and fanatic.\n\nThe state of religion among the Dissenters was only a few degrees better\nthan the state of the Church. The toleration which they enjoyed from\nWilliam the Third's time was certainly productive of a very bad\nspiritual effect on them as a body. As soon as they ceased to be\npersecuted, they appear to have gone to sleep. The Baptist and\nIndependent could still point to Gill, and Guyse, and Doddridge, and\nWatts, and a few more like-minded men. But the English Presbyterians\nwere fast lapsing into Socinianism. And as to the great majority of\nnonconformists, it is vain to deny that they were very different men\nfrom Baxter, and Flavel, and Gurnall, and Traill. A generation of\npreachers arose who were very orthodox, but painfully cold; very\nconscientious, but very wanting in spirituality; very constant in their\nobjections to the Established Church, but very careless about spreading\nvital Christianity.\n\nI deeply feel the difficulty of conveying a correct impression of the\ntimes when Whitefield lived. I dislike over-statement as much as any\none, but I am thoroughly persuaded it is not easy to make an\nover-statement on this branch of my subject.\n\nThese were the times when the highest personages in the realm lived\nopenly in ways which were flatly contrary to the law of God, and no man\nrebuked them. No courts, I suppose, can be imagined more diametrically\nunlike than the courts of George I. and George II., and the court of\nQueen Victoria.\n\nThese were the times when profligacy and irreligion were reputable and\nrespectable things. Judging from the description we have of men and\nmanners in those days, a gentleman might have been defined as a creature\nwho got drunk, gambled, swore, fought duels, and broke the seventh\ncommandment incessantly. And for all this, no one thought the worse of\nhim.\n\nThese were the days when the men whom kings delighted to honor were\nBolingbroke, Chesterfield, Walpole, and Newcastle. To be an infidel or a\nskeptic, to obtain power by intrigue, and to retain power by the\ngrossest and most notorious bribery, were considered no\ndisqualifications at this era. Such was the utter want of religion,\nmorality, and high principle in the land, that men such as these were\nnot only tolerated, but praised.\n\nThese were the days when Hume, the historian, put forth his work, became\nfamous, and got a pension. He was notoriously an infidel. These were the\ndays when Sterne and Swift wrote their clever, but most indecent\nproductions. Both were clergymen, and high in the Church; but the public\nsaw no harm. These were the days when Fielding and Smollet were the\npopular authors, and the literary taste of high and low was suited by\nRoderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, Joseph Andrews, and Tom Jones.\n\nThese were the days when Knox says, in his history of Christian\nPhilosophy: \"Some of the most learned men--the most voluminous writers\non theological subjects--were _totally ignorant of Christianity_. They\nwere ingenious heathen philosophers, assuming the name of Christians,\nand forcibly paganizing Christianity, for the sake of pleasing the\nworld.\" These were the days when Archbishop Drummond (1760) could talk\nof \"intricate and senseless questions, about the influence of the Spirit\nthe power of grace, predestination, imputed righteousness, justification\nwithout works, and other opinions which have from the beginning\nperplexed and perverted, debased, defiled, and wounded Christianity.\"\nThese were the days when Bishop Warburton considered the teaching office\nof the Holy Ghost to be completed in the Holy Scriptures, and that his\nsanctifying and comforting offices are chiefly confined to charity. Such\nwere the leading ministers. What must the mass of teachers have been!\nSuch were the _priests_ of Whitefield's time. What must have been the\n_people_!\n\nThese were the days when there was an utter dearth of sound theological\nwriting. The doctrines of the Reformers were trampled under foot by men\nwho sat in their chairs. The bread of the Church was eaten by men who\nflatly contradicted her Articles. The appetite of religious people was\nsatisfied with \"Tillotson's Sermons,\" and the \"Whole Duty of Man.\" A\npension of two hundred pounds a year was actually given to Blair, of\nEdinburgh, for writing his most unchristian sermons. Ask any theological\nbookseller, and he will tell you that, generally speaking, no divinity\nis so worthless as that of the eighteenth century.\n\nIn fine, these were the days when there was no Society for promoting the\nincrease of true religion, but the Christian Knowledge Society, and the\nSociety for the Propagation of the Gospel. And even their work was\ncomparatively trifling. Nothing was done for the Jew. Nothing was done\nfor the heathen. Nothing, almost, was done for the colonies. Nothing was\ndone for the destitute parts of our own country. Nothing was done for\neducation. The Church slept. The dissenters slept. The pulpit slept. The\nreligious press slept. The gates were left wide open. The walls were\nleft unguarded. Infidelity stalked in. The Devil sowed tares broadcast,\nand walked to and fro. The gentry gloried in their shame, and no man\npointed out their wickedness. The people sinned with a high hand, and no\nman taught them better. Ignorance, profligacy, irreligion, and\nsuperstition, were to be seen every where. Such were the times when\nWhitefield was raised up.\n\nI know that this is a dreadful picture. I marvel God did not sweep away\nthe Church altogether. But I believe that the picture is not one whit\ntoo highly colored. It is painful to expose such a state of things. But,\nfor Whitefield's sake, the truth ought to be known. Justice has not been\ndone to him, because the condition of the times he lived in is not\nconsidered. The times he lived in were extraordinary times, and required\nextraordinary means to be used. And whatever quiet men, sitting by their\nfireside in our day, may say to the contrary, I am satisfied that\nWhitefield was just the man for his times.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n2. The story of Whitefield's life, which forms the next part of our\nsubject, is one that is soon told. The facts and incidents of that life\nare few and simple, and I shall not dwell upon them at any length.\n\nWhitefield was born in 1714. Like many other great men, he was of very\nhumble origin. His father and mother kept the Bell Inn, in the city of\nGloucester. Whether there is such an inn now, I do not know. But,\njudging from Whitefield's account of his circumstances, it must formerly\nhave been a very small concern.\n\nWhitefield's early life seems to have been any thing but religious,\nthough he had occasional fits of devout feeling. He speaks of himself as\nhaving been addicted to lying, filthy talking, and foolish jesting. He\nconfesses that he was a Sabbath-breaker, a theatre-goer, a card-player,\nand a romance-reader. All this went on till he was twelve or fifteen\nyears old.\n\nAt the age of twelve he was placed at a grammar-school in Gloucester.\nLittle is known of his progress there, excepting the curious fact that\neven then he was remarkable for his good elocution and memory, and was\nselected to make speeches before the corporation, at their annual\nvisitations.\n\nAt the age of fifteen he appears to have become tired of Latin and\nGreek, and to have given up all hopes of ever becoming more than a\ntradesman. He ceased to take lessons in any thing but writing. He began\nto assist his mother in the public-house that she kept. \"At length,\" he\nsays, \"I put on my blue apron, washed mops, cleaned rooms, and, in one\nword, became a professed common drawer for nigh a year and a half.\"\n\nBut God, who ordereth all things in heaven and earth, and called David\nfrom keeping sheep to be a king, had provided some better thing for\nWhitefield than the office of a pot-boy. Family disagreements interfered\nwith his prospects at the Bell Inn. An old schoolfellow stirred up again\nwithin him the desire of going to the University. And at length, after\nseveral providential circumstances had smoothed the way, he was\nlaunched, at the age of eighteen, at Oxford, in a position at that time\nmuch more humbling than it is now, as a servitor at Pembroke College.\n\nWhitefield's Oxford career seems to have been the turning-point in his\nlife. According to his own journal, he had not been without religious\nconvictions for two or three years before he went to Oxford. From the\ntime of his entering Pembroke College, these convictions rapidly ripened\ninto decided Christianity. He became marked for his attendance on all\nmeans of grace within his reach. He spent his leisure time in visiting\nthe city prisons and doing good. He formed an acquaintance with the\nfamous John Wesley and his brother Charles, which gave a color to the\nwhole of his subsequent life. At one time he seems to have had a narrow\nescape from becoming a semi-papist, an ascetic, or a mystic. From this\nhe seems to have been delivered, partly by the advice of wiser and more\nexperienced Christians, and partly by reading such books as Scougal's\n\"Life of God in the Soul of Man,\" Law's \"Serious Call,\" Baxter's \"Call\nto the Unconverted,\" and Alleine's \"Alarm to Unconverted Sinners.\" At\nlength, in 1736, at the early age of twenty-two, he was ordained deacon\nby Bishop Benson, of Gloucester, and began to run that ministerial race\nin which he never drew breath till he was laid in the grave.\n\nHis first sermon was preached in St. Mary-le-Crypt, Gloucester. It was\nsaid to have driven fifteen persons mad. Bishop Benson remarked, that he\nonly hoped the madness might continue. He next accepted temporary duty\nat the Tower Chapel, London. While engaged there, he preached\ncontinually in many of the London churches, and among others, in the\nparish churches of Islington, Bishopsgate, St. Dunstan's, St. Margaret,\nWestminster, and Bow, Cheapside. From the very beginning he attained a\ndegree of popularity such as no preacher, probably, before or since, has\never reached. To say that the churches were crowded when he preached,\nwould be saying little. They were literally crammed to suffocation. An\neye-witness said, \"You might have walked on the people's heads.\"\n\nFrom London he removed for a few months to Dummer, a little rural parish\nin Hampshire, near Basingstoke. From Dummer he sailed for the colony of\nGeorgia, in North America, after visiting Gloucester and Bristol, and\npreaching in crowded churches in each place. The object of his voyage\nwas to assist the Wesleys in the care of an Orphan House which they had\nestablished in Georgia for the children of colonists who died there. The\nmanagement of this Orphan House ultimately devolved entirely on\nWhitefield, and entailed on him a world of responsibility and anxiety\nall his life long. Though well meant, it seems to have been a design of\nvery questionable wisdom.[A]\n\n  [A] This Orphan House at Savannah is now in a flourishing\n      condition, and of great usefulness.\n\nWhitefield returned from Georgia after about two years' absence, partly\nto obtain priest's orders, which were conferred on him by Bishop Benson,\nand partly on business connected with the Orphan House. And now we reach\nthe era in his life when he was obliged, by circumstances, to take up a\nline of conduct as a minister which he probably at one time never\ncontemplated, but which was made absolutely necessary by the treatment\nhe received.\n\nIt appears that, on arriving in London after his first visit to\nGeorgia, he found the countenances of many of the clergy no longer\ntowards him as they were before. They had taken fright at some\nexpressions in his published letters, and some reports of his conduct in\nAmerica. They were scandalized at his preaching the doctrine of\nregeneration in the way that he did, as a thing which many of their\nparishioners needed. The pulpits of many churches were flatly refused to\nhim. Churchwardens, who had no eyes for heresy and drunkenness, were\nfilled with virtuous indignation about what they called breaches of\norder. Bishops who could tolerate Arianism and Socinianism, got into a\nstate of excitement about a man who simply preached the gospel, and put\nforth warnings against fanaticism and enthusiasm. In short, Whitefield's\nfield of usefulness within the Church was rapidly narrowed on every\nside.\n\nThe step which seems to have decided Whitefield's course of action at\nthis period of his life, was his adoption of open-air preaching. He had\ngone to Islington, on a Sunday in April, 1739, to preach for the vicar,\nhis friend, Mr. Stonehouse. In the midst of the prayers, the\nchurchwarden came to him, and demanded his license for preaching in the\nLondon diocese. This Whitefield, of course, had not got, any more than\nany clergyman not regularly officiating in the diocese has at this day.\nThe upshot of the matter was, that being forbidden to preach in the\npulpit, he went outside, after the service, and preached in the\nchurchyard. From that day, he regularly took up the practice of open-air\npreaching. Wherever there were large open fields around London; wherever\nthere were large bands of idle, church-despising, Sabbath-breaking\npeople gathered together--there went Whitefield and lifted up his voice.\nThe gospel so proclaimed was listened to, and greedily received by\nhundreds who had never dreamed of visiting a place of worship. In\nMoorfields, in Hackney Fields, in Mary-le-bone Fields, in May Fair, in\nSmithfield, on Kennington Common, on Blackheath, Sunday after Sunday,\nWhitefield preached to admiring masses. Ten thousand, fifteen thousand,\ntwenty thousand, thirty thousand, were computed sometimes to have heard\nhim at once. The cause of pure religion, beyond doubt, was advanced.\nSouls were plucked from the hand of Satan, as brands from the burning.\nBut it was going much too fast for the Church of those days. The clergy,\nwith very few exceptions, would have nothing to do with this strange\npreacher. In short, the ministrations of Whitefield in the pulpits of\nthe Establishment, with an occasional exception, from this time ceased.\nHe loved the Church. He gloried in her Articles and Formularies. He used\nher Prayer Book with delight. But the Church did not love him, and so\nlost the use of his services. The plain truth is, the Church of England\nof that day was not ready for a man like Whitefield. The Church was too\nmuch asleep to understand him.\n\nFrom this date to the day of his death, a period of thirty-one\nyears, Whitefield's life was one uniform employment. From Sunday\nmorning to Saturday night--from the 1st of January to the 31st\nof December--excepting when laid aside by illness, he was almost\nincessantly preaching. There was hardly a considerable town in England,\nScotland, and Wales, that he did not visit. When churches were opened to\nhim, he gladly preached in churches. When chapels only were offered, he\ncheerfully preached in chapels. When church and chapel alike were\nclosed, he was ready and willing to preach in the open air. For\nthirty-four years he labored in this way, always proclaiming the same\nglorious gospel, and always, as far as a man's eye can judge, with\nimmense effect. In one single Whitsuntide week, after he had been\npreaching in Moorfields, he received one thousand letters from people\nunder spiritual concern, and admitted to the Lord's table three hundred\nand fifty persons. In the thirty-four years of his ministry, it is\nreckoned that he preached publicly eighteen thousand times.\n\nHis _journeyings_ were prodigious, when the roads and conveyances of his\ntimes are considered. Fourteen times did he visit Scotland. Seven times\ndid he cross the Atlantic, backward and forward. Twice he went over to\nIreland. As to England and Wales, he traversed every county in them,\nfrom the Isle of Wight to Berwick-on-Tweed, and from the Land's End to\nthe North Foreland.\n\nHis _regular ministerial work_ in London, when he was not journeying,\nwas prodigious. His weekly engagements at the Tabernacle in\nTottenham-court Road, which was built for him when the pulpits of the\nEstablished Church were closed, were as follows:--Every Sunday morning\nhe administered the Lord's Supper to several hundred communicants, at\nhalf-past six. After this he read prayers, and preached, both morning\nand afternoon; preached again in the evening at half-past five; and\nconcluded, by addressing a large society of widows, married people,\nyoung men and spinsters, all sitting separately in the area of the\nTabernacle, with exhortations suitable to their respective stations. On\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, he preached regularly\nat six. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday evenings,\nhe delivered lectures. This you will observe made thirteen sermons a\nweek. And all this time he was carrying on a correspondence with people\nin almost every part of the world.\n\nThat any human frame could so long endure the labor he went through,\ndoes indeed seem wonderful. That his life was not shortened by violence,\nis no less wonderful. Once he was nearly stoned to death by a Popish mob\nin Dublin. Once he was nearly murdered in bed by an angry lieutenant of\nthe navy at Plymouth. Once he narrowly escaped being stabbed by the\nsword of a rakish young gentleman in Moorfields; but he was immortal\ntill his work was done. He died at last at Newburyport, in North\nAmerica, from a fit of asthma, at the age of fifty-six. His last sermon\nwas preached only twenty-four hours before his death. It was an open-air\ndiscourse two hours long. Like Bishop Jewell, he almost died preaching.\nHe left no children. He was once married, and the marriage does not seem\nto have contributed much to his happiness. But he left a name far better\nthan that of sons and daughters. Never, I believe, was there a man of\nwhom it could be so truly said, that he spent and was spent for God.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n3. The story of _Whitefield's religion_ is the next part of the subject\nthat I proposed to take up, and unquestionably it is one of no little\ninterest.\n\nWhat sort of doctrine did this wonderful man preach? an inquirer may\nreasonably ask. What were the standards of faith to which he adhered\nunder the Bible? What were the peculiar essentials of this religious\nteaching of his, which was so universally spoken against in his day?\n\nThe answer to all these questions is short and simple. Whitefield was a\nreal, genuine son of the Church of England. As such he was brought up in\nearly youth. As such he was educated at Oxford. As such he preached as\nlong as he was allowed to preach within the Establishment. As such he\npreached when he was outside. References to the Prayer Book, Articles,\nand Homilies, abound in all his writings and sermons. His constant reply\nto his numerous opponents was, that HE at any rate was consistent with\nthe formularies of his own Church, and that THEY were not. It is not at\nall too much to say, that when practically cast out of the\nEstablishment, Whitefield was an infinitely better churchman than ten\nthousand of the men who received the tithes of the Church of England,\nand remained comfortably behind.\n\nWhitefield no doubt was not a churchman of the stamp of Archbishop Laud\nand his school. He was not the man to put a Romish interpretation on our\nexcellent Formularies, and to place Church and sacraments before Christ.\nHe was not a churchman of the stamp of Tillotson and the school that\nfollowed him. He did not lay aside justification by faith, and the need\nof grace, for semi-heathen disquisitions about morality and duty, virtue\nand vice. And he was quite right. Laud and his followers went infinitely\nbeyond the doctrines of our Church. Tillotson and his school fell\ninfinitely below.\n\nBut if a churchman is a man who reads the Articles, and Liturgy, and\nHomilies, in the sense of the men who compiled them--if a churchman is a\nman who sympathizes with Cranmer, and Latimer, and Hooper, and\nJewell--if a churchman is a man who honors doctrines and ordinances in\nthe order and proportion that the Thirty-nine Articles honor them--if\nthis be the true definition of a churchman, then Whitefield was the\nhighest style of churchman--as true a churchman as ever breathed. And\nas for Whitefield's adversaries, they were little better than shams and\nimpostors. They had place and power on their side, but they scarcely\ndeserve to be called churchmen at all.\n\nPerhaps no better test of Whitefield's religious opinions can be\nsupplied, than the list of authors in divinity which he wrote out for\nthe use of a college connected with his Orphan House in Georgia. Of\nchurchmen, this List includes the names of Archbishop Leighton, Bishop\nHall, and Burkitt; of Puritans, Pool, Owen, and Bunyan; of Dissenters,\nMatthew Henry and Doddridge; of Scotch Presbyterians, Wilson and Boston.\nAll these are men whose praise is even now in all the churches. These,\nlet us understand, were the kind of men with whom he was of one mind in\ndoctrine.\n\nAs to the substance of Whitefield's theological teaching, the simplest\naccount I can give of it is, that it was purely _evangelical_. There\nwere four main things that he never lost sight of in his sermons. These\nfour were: man's complete ruin by sin, and consequent natural corruption\nof heart; man's complete redemption by Christ, and complete\njustification before God by faith in Christ; man's need of regeneration\nby the Spirit, and entire renewal of heart and life; and man's utter\nwant of any title to be considered a living Christian, unless he is dead\nto sin and lives a holy life.\n\nWhitefield had no notion of flattering men, and speaking smooth things\nto them, merely because they were baptized and called Christians, and\nsometimes came to church. He only looked at one prominent feature in the\nthousands he saw around him; and that was, the general character of\ntheir lives. He saw the lives of these multitudes were utterly\ncontradictory to the Bible, and utterly at variance with the principles\nof the Church to which they professed to belong. He waited for nothing\nmore. He looked for no further evidence. He judged of trees by their\nfruits. He told these thousands at once that they were in danger of\nbeing lost for ever--that they were in the broad way that leads to\ndestruction--that they were dead, and must be made alive again--that\nthey were lost, and must be found. He told them that if they loved life,\nthey must immediately repent--they must become new creatures--they must\nbe converted, they must be _born again_. And I believe the apostles\nwould have done just the same.\n\nBut Whitefield was just as full and explicit in setting forth the way to\nheaven as he was in setting forth the way to hell. When he saw that\nmen's consciences were pricked and their fears aroused, he would open\nthe treasure-house of gospel mercy, and spread forth before a\ncongregation its unsearchable stores. He would unfold to them the\namazing love of God the Father to a fallen world--that love from which\nhe gave his only-begotten Son, and on account of which, while we were\nyet sinners, Christ died for us. He would show them the amazing love of\nGod the Son in taking our nature on him, and suffering for us, the just\nfor the unjust. He would tell them of Jesus able to save to the\nuttermost all that would come to God by him--Jesus and his everlasting\nrighteousness, in which the vilest sinners might stand complete and\nperfect before the throne of God--Jesus and the blood of sprinkling,\nwhich could wash the blackest sins away--Jesus, the High Priest, waiting\nto receive all who would come to him, and not only mighty, but ready to\nsave. And all this glorious salvation, he would tell men, was close to\nthem. It was not far above them, like heaven. It was not deep beneath\nthem, like hell. It was near at hand. It was within their reach. He\nwould urge them at once to accept it. The man that felt his sins and\ndesired deliverance had only to believe and be saved, to ask and\nreceive, to wash and be clean. And was he not right to say so? I believe\nthe apostles would have said much the same.\n\nBut while Whitefield addressed the careless and ungodly masses in this\nstyle, he never failed to urge on those who made a high profession of\nreligion their responsibility, and to stir them up to walk worthy of\ntheir high calling. He never tolerated men who talked well about\nreligion, but lived inconsistent lives. Such men, no doubt, there were\nabout him, but it is pretty certain they got no quarter from him. On the\ncontrary, one of his biographers tells us that he was especially careful\nto impress on all the members of his congregation the absolute necessity\nof adorning the doctrine of God in all the relations of life. Masters\nand servants, rich people and poor, old and young, married and single,\neach and all were plainly exhorted to glorify God in their respective\npositions. One day he would tell the young men of his congregation to\nbeware of being like one he heard of, whose uncle described him as such\na jumble of religion and business, that he was fit for neither. Another\nday he would hold up the example of a widow, remarkable for her\nconfidence in God. Another day he would say to them, \"God convert you\nmore and more every hour of the day; God convert you from lying in bed\nin the morning; God convert you from lukewarmness; God convert you from\nconformity to the world!\" Another day he would warn young men against\nleaving their religion behind them as they rose in the world. \"Beware,\"\nhe would say, \"of being golden apprentices, silver journeymen, and\ncopper masters.\" In short, there never was a greater mistake than to\nsuppose there was any thing Antinomian or licentious in Whitefield's\nteaching. It was discriminating, unquestionably. Sinners had their\nportion; but saints had their portion too. And what was this but walking\nin the very steps of the apostle Paul?\n\nThe crowning excellence of Whitefield's teaching was, that he just spoke\nof men, things, and doctrines, in the way that the Bible speaks of them,\nand the place that the Bible assigns to them. God, Christ, and the\nSpirit--sin, justification, conversion, and sanctification--impenitent\nsinners the most miserable of people--believing saints the most\nprivileged of people--the world a vain and empty thing--heaven the only\nrest for an immortal soul--the Devil a tremendous and ever-watchful\nfoe--holiness the only true happiness--hell a real and certain portion\nfor the unconverted; these were the kind of subjects which filled\nWhitefield's mind, and formed the staple of his ministry. To say that he\nundervalued the sacraments would be simply false. His weekly communions\nat the Tabernacle are an answer that speaks for itself. But he never put\nthe first things in Christianity second, and the second first. He never\nput doctrine below sacraments, and sacraments above doctrine. And who\nshall dare to blame him for this? He only followed the proportion of the\nBible.\n\nIt is only fair to add, that Whitefield exemplified in his practice the\nreligion that he preached. He had faults, unquestionably. I have not\ncome here to make him out a perfect being. He often erred in judgment.\nHe was often hasty, both with his tongue and with his pen. He had no\nbusiness to say that Archbishop Tillotson knew no more of religion than\nMahomet. He was wrong to set down some people as the Lord's enemies, and\nothers as the Lord's friends, so precipitately as he sometimes did. He\nwas to blame for styling many of the clergy letter-learned Pharisees,\nbecause they could not receive the doctrine of the new birth. But still,\nafter all this has been said, there can be no doubt that, in the main,\nhe was a holy, self-denying, and consistent man. Even his worst enemies\ncan say nothing to the contrary.\n\nHe was, to the very end, a man of _eminent self-denial_. His style of\nliving was most simple. He refused money when it was pressed upon him,\nand once to the amount of L7000. He amassed no fortune. He founded no\nwealthy family. The little money he left behind him at his death was\nentirely from the legacies of friends.\n\nHe was a man of remarkable _disinterestedness_ and singleness of eye. He\nseemed to live for only two objects--the glory of God, and the salvation\nof immortal souls. He raised no party of followers who took his name. He\nestablished no system, like Wesley, of which his own writings should be\ncardinal elements. A frequent expression of his is most characteristic\nof the man: \"Let the name of George Whitefield perish, so long as Christ\nonly is exalted.\"\n\nLast, but not least, he was a man of _extraordinary catholicity_ and\nliberality in his religion. He knew nothing of that narrow-minded policy\nwhich prompts a man to fancy that every thing must be barren outside his\nown camp, and that his party has got a monopoly of truth and heaven. He\nloved all who loved the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. He measured all\nby the measure which the angels of God use--\"did they possess\nrepentance towards God, faith towards the Lord Jesus Christ, holiness of\nconversation?\" If they did, they were as his brethren. His soul was with\nsuch men, by whatever name they were called. Minor differences were\nwood, hay, and stubble to him. The marks of the Lord Jesus were the only\nmarks he cared for. This catholicity is the more remarkable, when the\nspirit of the times he lived in is considered. Even the Erskines, in\nScotland, wanted him to preach for no other denomination but their own,\nviz., the Secession Church. He asked them, why only for them; and\nreceived the notable answer, that they were the Lord's people. This was\nmore than Whitefield could stand. He asked if there were no other Lord's\npeople but themselves. He told them, if all others were the Devil's\npeople, they certainly had more need to be preached to. And he wound up\nby informing them, that if the Pope himself would lend him his pulpit,\nhe would gladly proclaim the righteousness of Christ in it. To this\ncatholicity of spirit he adhered all his days. And nothing could be a\nmore weighty testimony against all narrowness of spirit among believers,\nthan his request shortly before his death, that when he did die, John\nWesley might be asked to preach his funeral sermon. Wesley and he had\nlong ceased to see eye to eye on Calvinistic points. But as Calvin\n_said_ of Luther, so Whitefield was resolved to _think_ of Wesley. He\nwas determined to sink minor differences, and to know him only as a good\nservant of Jesus Christ.\n\nSuch was George Whitefield's religion. Comment, I hope, is needless upon\nit. Time, at any rate, forbids me to dwell on it a moment longer. But\nsurely I think I have shown enough to justify me in expressing a wish\nthat we had many living ministers in the Church of England like George\nWhitefield.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n4. The next part of the subject is one which I feel some difficulty in\nhandling,--I allude to _Whitefield's preaching_.\n\nI find that this point is one on which much difference of opinion\nprevails. I find many are disposed to think that part of Whitefield's\nsuccess is attributable to the novelty of gospel doctrines at the time\nwhen he preached, and part to the extraordinary gifts of voice and\ndelivery with which he was endowed, and that the matter and style of his\nsermons were in no wise remarkable. From this opinion I am inclined to\ndissent altogether. After calm examination, I have come to the\nconclusion that Whitefield was one of the most powerful and\nextraordinary preachers the world has ever seen. My belief is, that\nhitherto he has never been too highly estimated, and that, on the\ncontrary, he does not receive the credit he deserves.\n\nOne thing is abundantly clear and beyond dispute, and that is, that his\nsermons were wonderfully effective. No preacher has ever succeeded in\narresting the attention of such enormous crowds of people as those he\naddressed continually in the neighborhood of London. No preacher has\never been so universally popular in every country he visited, England,\nScotland and America, as he was. No preacher has ever retained his hold\non his hearers so entirely as he did for thirty-four years. His\npopularity never waned. It was as great at the end of his days as it was\nat the beginning. This of itself is a great fact. To command the ear of\npeople for thirty-four long years, and be preaching incessantly the\nwhole time is something that the novelty of the gospel alone will not\naccount for. The theory that his preaching was popular, because new, to\nmy mind is utterly unsatisfactory.\n\nAnother thing is no less indisputable about his preaching, and that is,\nthat it produced a powerful effect on people in every rank of life. He\nwon the suffrages of high as well as low, of rich as well as poor, of\nlearned as well as unlearned. If his preaching had been popular with\nnone but the uneducated masses, we might have thought it possible there\nwas little in it except a striking delivery and a loud voice. But facts\nare, unfortunately, against this theory too; and, under the pressure of\nthese facts, it will be found to break down.\n\nIt is a fact, that numbers of the nobility and gentry of Whitefield's\nday were warm admirers of his preaching. The Marquis of Lothian, the\nEarl of Leven, the Earl of Buchan, Lord Rae, Lord Dartmouth, Lord James\nA. Gordon, might be named, among others, besides Lady Huntingdon and a\nhost of ladies.\n\nIt is a fact, that eminent statesmen, like Bolingbroke and Chesterfield,\nwere frequently his delighted hearers. Even the artificial Chesterfield\nwas known to warm under Whitefield's eloquence. Bolingbroke has placed\non record his opinion, and said, \"He is the most extraordinary man in\nour times. He has the most commanding eloquence I ever heard in any\nperson.\"\n\nIt is a fact, that cool-headed men, like Hume the historian, and\nFranklin the philosopher, spoke in no measured terms of his preaching\npowers. Franklin has written a long account of the effect his sermons\nproduced at Philadelphia. Hume declared that it was worth going twenty\nmiles to hear him.\n\nNow these are facts--simple, historical, and well-authenticated facts.\nWhat shall we say to them? I say that these facts are quite enough to\nprove that Whitefield's effectiveness was not owing entirely to delivery\nand voice, as some men would have us believe. Bolingbroke and\nChesterfield, and Hume and Franklin, were not such weak men as to allow\ntheir judgments to be biased by any mere external endowments. They were\nno mean judges of eloquence. They were, probably, among the best\nqualified critics of the day. And I say confidently, that their opinion\ncan only be explained by the fact, that Whitefield was indeed a most\npowerful and extraordinary preacher.\n\nBut still, after all, the question remains to be answered, What was the\nsecret of Whitefield's unparalleled success as a preacher? How are we to\naccount for his sermons producing effects which no sermons, before or\nafter his time, have ever yet done? These are questions you have a right\nto ask. But they are questions I find it very hard to answer. That his\nsermons were not mere voice and rant, I think we have pretty clearly\nproved. That he was a man of commanding intellect and grasp of mind, no\none has ever pretended to say. How then are we to account for the\neffectiveness of his preaching?\n\nThe reader who turns for a solution of this question to the seventy-five\nsermons published under his name, will probably be much disappointed. He\nwill not find in them many striking thoughts. He will not discover in\nthem any new exhibitions of gospel doctrine. The plain truth is, that by\nfar the greater part of them were taken down in short-hand by reporters,\nwithout Whitefield's knowledge, and published without correction. No\nintelligent reader, I think, can help discovering that these reporters\nwere, most unhappily, ignorant alike of stopping and paragraphing, of\ngrammar and of gospel. The consequence is, that many passages in these\nsermons are what Latimer would call a \"mingle-mangle,\" or what we should\ncall in this day \"a complete mess.\"\n\nNevertheless, I am bold to say, that with all their faults, Whitefield's\nprinted sermons will repay a candid perusal. Let the reader only\nremember what I have just said, that most of them are miserably\nreported, paragraphed and stopped, and make allowance accordingly. Let\nhim remember also, that English for speaking and English for reading are\ntwo different languages; and that sermons which preach well, always read\nill. Remember these two things, I say, and I do believe you will find\nvery much to admire in some of Whitefield's sermons. For myself, I can\nonly say, I believe I have learned much from them, and, however great a\nheresy against taste it may appear, I should be ungrateful if I did not\npraise them.\n\nAnd now let me try to point out to you what seem to me to have been the\ncharacteristic features of Whitefield's sermons. I may be wrong, but\nthey appear to me to present just such a combination of excellences as\nis most likely to make an effective preacher.\n\nFirst and foremost, you must remember, Whitefield preached _a singularly\npure gospel_. Few men ever gave their hearers so much wheat and so\nlittle chaff. He did not get into his pulpit to talk about his party,\nhis cause, his interest, or his office. He was perpetually telling you\nabout your sins, your heart, and Jesus Christ, in the way that the Bible\nspeaks of them. \"Oh! the righteousness of Jesus Christ!\" he would\nfrequently say: \"I must be excused if I mention it in almost all my\nsermons.\" This, you may be sure, is the corner-stone of all preaching\nthat God honors. It must be preeminently a _manifestation of truth_.\n\nFor another thing, Whitefield's preaching was _singularly lucid and\nsimple_. You might not like his doctrine, perhaps; but at any rate you\ncould not fail to understand what he meant. His style was easy, plain,\nand conversational. He seemed to abhor long and involved sentences. He\nalways saw his mark, and went direct at it. He seldom or never troubled\nhis hearers with long arguments and intricate reasonings. Simple Bible\nstatements, pertinent anecdotes, and apt illustrations, were the more\ncommon weapons that he used. The consequence was, that his hearers\nalways understood him. He never shot above their heads. Never did man\nseem to enter so thoroughly into the wisdom of Archbishop Usher's\nsaying, \"To make easy things seem hard is easy, but to make hard things\neasy is the office of a great preacher.\"\n\nFor another thing, Whitefield was a _singularly bold and direct\npreacher_. He never used that indefinite expression, \"we,\" which seems\nso peculiar to English pulpit oratory, and which leaves a hearer's mind\nin a state of misty confusion as to the preacher's meaning. He met men\nface to face, like one who had a message from God to them--like an\nambassador with tidings from heaven; \"I have come here to speak to you\nabout your soul.\" He never minced matters, and beat about the bush in\nattacking prevailing sins. His great object seemed to be to discover the\ndangers his hearers were most liable to, and then fire right at their\nhearts. The result was, that hundreds of his hearers used always to\nthink that the sermons were specially addressed to themselves. He was\nnot content, like many, with sticking on a tailpiece of application at\nthe end of a long discourse. A constant vein of application run through\nall his sermons. \"This is for you: this is for you: and this is for\nyou.\" His hearers were never let alone. Nothing, however, was more\nstriking than his direct appeals to all classes of his congregation, as\nhe drew towards a conclusion. With all the fault of his printed sermons,\nthe conclusions of some of them are, to my mind, the most stirring and\nheart-searching addresses to souls that are to be found in the English\nlanguage.\n\nAnother striking feature in Whitefield's preaching was his _thundering\nearnestness_. One poor, uneducated man said of him that he \"preached\nlike a lion.\" Never, perhaps, did any preacher so thoroughly succeed in\nshowing people that he, at least, believed all he was saying, and that\nhis whole heart, and soul, and strength, were bent on making them\nbelieve it too. No man could say that his sermons were like the morning\nand evening gun at Portsmouth, a formal discharge, fired off as a matter\nof course, that disturbs no body. They were all life. They were all\nfire. There was no getting away from under them. Sleep was next to\nimpossible. You must listen, whether you liked it or not. There was a\nholy violence about him. Your attention was taken by storm. You were\nfairly carried off your legs by his energy, before you had time to\nconsider what you would do. An American gentleman once went to hear him,\nfor the first time, in consequence of the report he heard of his\npreaching powers. The day was rainy, the congregation comparatively\nthin, and the beginning of the sermon rather heavy. Our American friend\nbegan to say to himself, \"This man is no great wonder, after all.\" He\nlooked round, and saw the congregation as little interested as himself.\nOne old man, in front of the pulpit, had fallen asleep. But all at once\nWhitefield stopped short. His countenance changed. And then he suddenly\nbroke forth in an altered tone: \"If I had come to speak to you in my own\nname, you might well rest your elbows on your knees, and your heads on\nyour hands, and sleep; and once in a while look up and say, What is this\nbabbler talking of? But I have not come to you in my own name. No! I\nhave come to you in the name of the Lord of Hosts,\" (here he brought\ndown his hand and foot with a force that made the building ring,) \"and I\nmust and will be heard.\" The congregation started. The old man woke up\nat once. \"Ay, ay!\" cried Whitefield, fixing his eyes on him, \"I have\nwaked you up, have I? I meant to do it. I am not come here to preach to\nstocks and stones: I have come to you in the name of the Lord God of\nHosts, and I must and will have an audience.\" The hearers were stripped\nof their apathy at once. Every word of the sermon was attended to. And\nthe American gentleman never forgot it.\n\nAnother striking feature in Whitefield's preaching was his _singular\npower of description_. The Arabians have a proverb which says, \"He is\nthe best orator who can turn men's ears into eyes.\" If ever there was a\nspeaker who succeeded in doing this, it was Whitefield. He drew such\nvivid pictures of the things he was dwelling upon, that his hearers\ncould believe they actually saw them all with their own eyes, and heard\nthem with their own ears. \"On one occasion,\" says one of his\nbiographers, \"Lord Chesterfield was among his hearers. The preacher, in\ndescribing the miserable condition of a poor, benighted sinner,\nillustrated the subject by describing a blind beggar. The night was\ndark; the road dangerous and full of snares. The poor sightless\nmendicant is deserted by his dog near the edge of a precipice, and has\nnothing to grope his way with but his staff. But Whitefield so warmed\nwith his subject, and unfolded it with such graphic power, that the\nwhole auditory was kept in breathless silence over the movements of the\npoor old man;\" and, at length, when the beggar was about to take that\nfatal step which would have hurled him down the precipice to certain\ndestruction, Lord Chesterfield actually made a rush forward to save him,\nexclaiming aloud, \"He is gone! he is gone!\" The noble lord had been so\nentirely carried away by the preacher, that he forgot the whole was a\npicture.\n\nOne more feature in Whitefield's preaching deserves especial notice, and\nthat is, the immense amount of _pathos and feeling_ which it always\ncontained. It was no uncommon thing with him to weep profusely in the\npulpit. Cornelius Winter goes so far as to say that he hardly ever knew\nhim get through a sermon without tears. There seems to have been nothing\nwhatever of affectation in this. He felt intensely for the souls before\nhim, and his feeling found a vent in tears. Of all the ingredients of\nhis preaching, nothing, I suspect, was so powerful as this. It awakened\nsympathies, and touched secret springs in men, which no amount of\nintellect could have moved. It melted down the prejudices which many had\nconceived against him. They could not hate the man who wept so much over\ntheir souls. They were often so affected as to shed floods of tears\nthemselves. \"I came to hear you,\" said one man, \"intending to break your\nhead; but your sermon got the better of me--it broke my heart.\" Once\nbecome satisfied that a man loves you, and you will listen gladly to\nany thing he has got to say. And this was just one grand secret of\nWhitefield's success.\n\nAnd now I will only ask you to add to this feeble sketch, that\nWhitefield's _action_ was perfect--so perfect that Garrick, the famous\nactor, gave it unqualified praise--that his _voice_ was as wonderful as\nhis action--so powerful, that he could make thirty thousand people hear\nhim at once; so musical and well-attuned, that men said he could raise\ntears by his pronunciation of the word \"Mesopotamia:\" that his _fluency_\nand command of extemporaneous language were of the highest order,\nprompting him always to use the right word and to put it in the right\nplace. Add, I say, these gifts to those already mentioned, and then\njudge for yourselves whether there is not sufficient, and more than\nsufficient, in our hands, to account for his power as a preacher.\n\nFor my part, I say, unhesitatingly, that I believe no living preacher\never possessed such a combination of excellences as Whitefield. Some, no\ndoubt, have surpassed him in some of his gifts; others, perhaps, have\nbeen his equals in others. But, for a combination of pure doctrine,\nsimple and lucid style, boldness and directness, earnestness and fervor,\ndescriptiveness and picture-drawing, pathos and feeling--united with a\nperfect voice, perfect delivery, and perfect command of words,\nWhitefield, I repeat, stands alone. No man, dead or alive, I believe,\never came alongside of him. And I believe you will always find, that\njust in proportion as preachers have approached that curious combination\nof excellences which Whitefield possessed, just in that very proportion\nhave they attained what Clarendon defines true eloquence to be, viz.,\n\"a strange power of making themselves believed.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n5. And now, there only remains one more point connected with Whitefield\nto which I wish to advert. I fear that I shall have exhausted your\nattention already. But the point is one of such importance, that it\ncannot be passed over in silence. The point I mean is, the actual\n_amount of real good_ that Whitefield did.\n\nYou will, I hope, understand me, when I say, that the materials for\nforming an opinion on this point in a history like his, must necessarily\nbe scanty. He founded no denomination among whom his name was embalmed,\nand his every act recorded, as did John Wesley. He headed no mighty\nmovement against a Church which openly professed false doctrines, as\nLuther did against Rome. He wrote no books which were to be the\nreligious classics of the million, like John Bunyan. He was a simple,\nguileless man, who lived for one thing only, and that was to preach\nChrist. If he succeeded in doing that effectually, he cared for nothing\nelse. He did nothing to preserve the memory of his usefulness. He left\nhis work with the Lord.\n\nOf course, there are many people who can see in Whitefield nothing but a\nfanatic and enthusiast, There is a generation that loathes every thing\nlike zeal in religion. There are never wanting men of a cautious,\ncold-blooded, Erasmus-like temper, who pass through the world doing no\ngood, because they are so dreadfully afraid of doing harm. I do not\nexpect such men to admire Whitefield, or allow he did any good. I fear,\nif they had lived eighteen hundred years ago, they would have had no\nsympathy with St. Paul.\n\nAgain, there are other people who count schism a far greater crime than\neither heresy or false doctrine. There is a generation of men who under\nno circumstances will worship God out of their own parish: and as to\nseparation from the Church, they seem to think that nothing whatever can\njustify it. I do not, of course, expect such men to admire Whitefield or\nhis work. His principle evidently was, that it was far better for men to\nbe uncanonically saved than canonically damned.\n\nWhether by any other line of action Whitefield could have remained in\nthe Church, and retained his usefulness, is a question which, at this\ndistance of time, we are very incompetent to answer. That he erred in\ntemper and judgment in his dealings with the bishops and clergy, in many\ninstances, I have no doubt. That he raised up fresh bodies of\nseparatists from the Church of England, and made breaches which probably\nwill never be repaired, I have no doubt also. But still it must never be\nforgotten, that the state of the Church was bad enough to provoke a holy\nindignation. The old principle is most true, that \"he is the schismatic\nwho causes the separation, and not he who separates.\" _If Whitefield did\nharm_, the harm ought to be laid on the Church which compelled him to\nact as he did, quite as much as on him. And when we come to strike the\nbalance, I believe the harm he may have done is outweighed by the good a\nthousand-fold.\n\nThe truth, I believe, is, that the _direct good_ Whitefield did to\nimmortal souls was enormous. I will go farther. I believe it is\nincalculable. In Scotland, in England, in America, credible witnesses\nhave recorded their testimony that he was the means of converting\nthousands of souls.\n\nFranklin, the philosopher, was a cold, calculating man, and not likely\nto speak too highly of any minister's work. Yet even he confessed that\nit \"was wonderful to see the change soon made by his preaching in the\nmanners of the inhabitants of Philadelphia. From being thoughtless or\nindifferent about religion, it seemed as if all the world were growing\nreligious.\"\n\nMaclaurin and Willison were Scotch ministers, whose names are well-known\nto theological readers, and stand deservedly high. Both of them have\ntestified that Whitefield did an amazing work in Scotland. Willison, in\nparticular, says: \"That God honored him with surprising success among\nsinners of all ranks and persuasions.\"\n\nOld Venn, in our own Church, was a man of strong common sense, as well\nas great grace. His opinion was, that \"if the greatness, extent,\nsuccess, and disinterestedness of a man's labors can give him\ndistinction among the children of Christ, then we are warranted to\naffirm, that scarce any one has equalled Mr. Whitefield.\" Again, he\nsays, \"It is a well-known fact, that the conversion of men's souls has\nbeen the fruit of a single sermon from his lips, so eminently was he\nmade a fisher of men.\" And again, \"Though we are allowed to sorrow that\nwe shall never see or hear him again, we must still rejoice that\nmillions have heard him so long, so often, and to such good effect; and\nthat out of this mass of people, multitudes are gone before him to hail\nhis entrance into the world of glory.\"\n\nJohn Newton was a shrewd man, as well as an eminent minister of the\ngospel. His testimony is, \"I am not backward to say, that I have not\nread or heard of any person, since the apostles' days, of whom it may\nmore emphatically he said, he was a burning and a shining light, than\nthe late Mr. Whitefield, whether we consider the warmth of his zeal, the\ngreatness of his ministerial talents, or the extensive usefulness with\nwhich the Lord honored him.\"\n\nThese are not solitary testimonies. I might add many more if time\npermitted. Romaine did not agree with him in many things, yet what does\nhe say of him? \"We have none left to succeed him; none, of his gifts;\nnone, any thing like him in usefulness.\" Toplady was a tremendously high\nCalvinist, and not disposed to overestimate the number of saved souls.\nYet he says, Whitefield's ministry was \"attended with spiritual benefit\nto tens of thousands;\" and he styles him \"the apostle of the British\nempire, and the prince of preachers.\" Hervey was a quiet, literary man,\nwhose health seldom allowed him to quit the retirement of Weston Favell.\nBut he says of Whitefield, \"I never beheld so fair a copy of our Lord,\nsuch a living image of the Saviour. I cannot forbear applying the wise\nman's encomiums of an illustrious woman to this eminent minister of the\neverlasting gospel: 'Many sons have done virtuously, but thou excellest\nthem all.'\"\n\nBut if the amount of direct good that Whitefield did in the world was\ngreat, who shall tell us the amount of _good that he did indirectly_? I\nbelieve it never can be reckoned up. I suspect it will never be fully\nknown until the last day.\n\nWhitefield was among the first _who stirred up a zeal for the pure\ngospel among the clergy and laity of our own Church_. His constant\nassertion of pure Reformation principles--his repeated references to the\nArticles, Prayer Book, and Homilies--his never-answered challenges to\nhis opponents to confute him out of the Formularies of their own\ncommunion--all this must have produced an effect, and set many thinking.\nI have no doubt whatever, that many a faithful minister, who became a\nshining light in those days within the Church of England, first lighted\nhis candle at the lamp of a man outside.\n\nWhitefield, again, was among the first to _show the right way to meet\ninfidels and skeptics_. He saw clearly that the most powerful weapon\nagainst such men is not metaphysical reasoning and critical\ndisquisition; but preaching the whole gospel, living the whole gospel,\nand spreading the whole gospel. It was not the writings of Leland, and\nthe younger Sherlock, and Waterland, and Leslie, that rolled back the\nflood of infidelity one half so much as the preaching of Whitefield, and\nWesley, and Fletcher, and Romaine, and Berridge, and Venn. Had it not\nbeen for them, I firmly believe we might have had a counterpart of the\nFrench Revolution in our own land. They were the men who were the true\nchampions of Christianity. Infidels are seldom shaken by mere abstract\nreasoning. The surest arguments against them are gospel truth and gospel\nlife.\n\nTo crown all, Whitefield was the very first who seems thoroughly to have\nunderstood what Chalmers has called the _aggressive system_. He did not\nwait for souls to come to him, but he went after souls. He did not sit\ntamely by his fireside, mourning over the wickedness of the land. He\nwent forth to beard the Devil in his high places. He attacked sin and\nwickedness face to face, and gave them no peace. He dived into holes and\ncorners after sinners. He hunted up ignorance and vice, wherever it\ncould be found. He showed that he thoroughly realized the nature of the\nministerial office. Like a fisherman, he did not wait for the fish to\ncome to him. Like a fisherman, he used every kind of means to catch\nsouls. Men know a little more of this now than they did formerly. City\nMissions and District Visiting Societies are evidences of clearer views.\nBut let us remember this was all comparatively new in Whitefield's time,\nand let us give him the credit he deserves.\n\nIn short, I come to the conclusion that no man has ever done more good\nin his day and generation than the man who is the subject of this\nlecture. He was a true hero, and that in its highest and best sense. He\ndid a work that will stand the fire, and glorify God, when many other\nworks are forgotten. And for that work I believe that England owes a\ndebt to his character which England has never yet paid.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now, I hasten to a conclusion. I have set before you, to the best of\nmy ability, Whitefield's time, and life, and religion, and preaching,\nand actual work. I have not extenuated his faults, to the best of my\nknowledge. I have not exaggerated his good qualities, so far as I am\naware. It only remains for me to point out to you two great practical\nlessons which the subject appears to me to teach.\n\nLearn then, I beseech you, for one lesson, the _amazing power that one\nsingle man possesses_, when he is determined to work for God, and has\ngot truth on his side.\n\nHere is a man who starts in life with every thing, to all appearance,\nagainst him. He has neither family, nor place, nor money, nor high\nconnections on his side. His views are flatly opposed to the customs and\nprejudices of his time. He stands in direct opposition to the stream of\npublic taste, and the religion of the vast bulk of ministers around\nhim. He is as much isolated and alone, to all appearance, as Martin\nLuther opposing the Pope, as Athanasius resisting the Arians, as Paul on\nMars' Hill. And yet this man stands his ground. He arrests public\nattention. He gathers crowds around him who receive his teaching. He is\nmade a blessing to tens of thousands. He turns the world upside down.\nHow striking these facts are!\n\nHere is your _encouragement_, if you stand alone. You have no reason to\nbe cast down and faint-hearted. You are not weak, though few, if God is\nwith you. There is nothing too great to be done by a little company, if\nonly they have Christ on their side. Away with the idea that numbers\nalone have power! Cast away the old vulgar error that majorities alone\nhave strength. Get firm hold of the great truth that minorities always\nmove the world. Think of the little flock that our Lord left behind him,\nand the one hundred and twenty names in that upper chamber in Jerusalem,\nwho went forth to assault the heathen world! Think of George Whitefield\nassailing boldly the ungodliness which deluged all around him, and\nwinning victory after victory! Think of all this. Cast fear away. Lay\nout your talents heartily and confidently for God.\n\nHere also is your _example_, if you desire to do good to souls. Whether\nyou become ministers or missionaries or teachers, never forget you must\nfight with Whitefield's weapons, if you wish to have any portion of\nWhitefield's success. Never forget what John Wesley said was\nWhitefield's theology--\"Give God all the glory of whatever is good in\nman: set Christ as high and man as low as possible, in the business of\nsalvation. All merit is in the blood of Christ, and all power is from\nthe Spirit of Christ.\"\n\nThink not for a moment that earnestness alone will insure success. This\nis a huge delusion. It will do nothing of the kind. All the earnestness\nin the world will never enable a teacher of _German theology_ to show\nyou one Tinnevelly, or a teacher of _semi-Popery_ one Sierra Leone. Oh,\nno! it must be the simple, pure, unadulterated gospel that you must\ncarry with you, if you are to do good. You must sow as Whitefield sowed,\nor you will never reap as he reaped.\n\nLearn, in the last place, _what abundant reasons we have for\nthankfulness in the present condition of the Church of England_.\n\nWe are far too apt to look at the gloomy side of things around us, and\nat that only. We are all prone to dwell on the faults of our condition,\nand to forget to bless God for our mercies. There are many things we\ncould wish otherwise in our beloved Church, beyond all question. There\nare defects we could wish to see remedied, and wounds we should gladly\nsee healed. But still, let us look behind us, and compare the Church of\nour day with the Church of Whitefield's times. Look on this picture, and\non that, and I am sure, if you do so honestly and fairly, you will agree\nwith me that we have reason to be thankful.\n\nWe have _bishops_ on the bench now, who love the simple truth as it is\nin Jesus, and are ready to help forward good works--bishops who are not\nashamed to come forward in Exeter Hall, and lend their aid to the\nextension of Christ's gospel--bishops who would have welcomed a man like\nWhitefield, and found full occupation for his marvellous gifts. Let us\nthank God for this. It was not so a hundred years ago.\n\nWe have hundreds of _clergymen_ in our parishes now, who preach as full\na gospel as Whitefield did, though they may not do it with the same\npower--clergymen who are not ashamed of the doctrine of regeneration,\nand do not pronounce a minister a heretic, because he says to ungodly\npeople, \"Ye must be born again.\" Let us thank God for this. A man need\nnot travel many miles now in order to find parishes where the gospel is\npreached. When driven out of one parish church, he can find truth in\nanother. It was not so a hundred years ago.\n\nWe have thousands of _laymen_ now, who are fully alive to the duties and\nresponsibilities of members of a Protestant Church--laymen who rejoice\nin holding up the hands of evangelical ministers, and are righteously\njealous for the maintenance and extension of evangelical truth. Let us\nthank God for this. It was not so a hundred years ago.\n\nWe have _societies and agencies_ for evangelizing every dark corner of\nthe earth in connection with our Church. We have wide and effectual\ndoors of usefulness for all who are willing to labor in the Lord's\nvineyard. The difficulty now is, not so much to find openings for doing\ngood, as to find men. Let us thank God for this. It was not so a hundred\nyears ago.\n\nYoung men of the Church of England, I ask you to gather up these facts,\nand treasure them in your memories. They are facts. They cannot be\ngainsaid. Treasure them up, I repeat. Look back a century, and then look\naround you, and then judge for yourselves whether you ought not to be\nthankful.\n\nBeware, I beseech you, of that tribe of men who would fain persuade you\nto forsake the Church of England, and separate from her communion. There\nis a generation of murmurers and complainers in the present day, who\nseem to revel in picking holes--a generation that seems to forget that\nfault-finding is the easiest task in all the world--a generation that\nhas no eyes to see the healthy parts in our body ecclesiastic, but has a\nwonderfully quick and morbid scent for detecting its sores--a generation\nthat is mighty to scatter, but impotent to build--a generation that\nwould persuade churchmen to strain at gnats, but finds no difficulty\nitself in swallowing camels--a generation that would have you pull the\nold house down, but cannot offer you so much as a tent in its place: of\nall such men, I say solemnly and affectionately--of all such men, I warn\nyou to beware. Listen not to them. Have no friendship with them. Avoid\nthem. Turn from them. Pass away.\n\nLet us not leave the good old ship, the CHURCH OF ENGLAND, until we have\nsome better reason than can at present be seen. What though she be old\nand weather-beaten! What though, in some respects, she may want repair!\nWhat though some of the crew be not to be depended on! Still, with all\nher faults, the old ship is in far better trim than she was a century\nago. Let us acknowledge her faults, and hope they may yet be amended.\nBut still, with all her faults, let us stick by the ship!\n\nWhen the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England are repealed, and\nthe Prayer Book and Homilies so altered as to be unprotestantized--when\nregeneration and justification by faith are forbidden to be preached in\nher pulpits--when the Queen, Lords and Commons, and laity, have assented\nto these changes--in short, when the Gospel is driven out of the\nEstablishment--then, and not till then, it will be time for you and me\nto go out; but, till then, I say, LET US STICK BY THE CHURCH!\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"A Sketch of the Life and Labors of George Whitefield","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":12252}