performer in the pulpit, were at this time in some danger of receiving a theatrical direction. The boys at the grammarschool were fond of acting plays: the master, seeing how their vein ran,' encouraged it, and composed a dramatic piece himself, which they represented before the corporation, and in which Whitefield enacted a woman's part, and appeared in girl's clothes. The remembrance of this, he says, had often covered him with confusion of face, and he hoped it would do so even to the end of his life! Before he was fifteen, he persuaded his mother to take him from school, saying, that she could not place him at the university, and more learning would only spoil him for a tradesman. Her own circumstances, indeed, were by this time so much on the decline, that his menial services were required: he began occasionally to assist her in the public-house, till at length he put on his blue apron and his snuffers,* washed mops, cleaned rooms, and became a professed and common drawer.' In the little leisure which such employments allowed, this strange boy composed two or three sermons; and the romances, which had been his heart's delight, gave place for awhile to Thomas à Kempis. "When he had been about a year in this servile occupation, the inn was made over to a married brother, and George, being accustomed to the house, continued there as an assistant; but he could not agree with his sister-in-law, and after much uneasiness gave up the situation. His mother, though her means were scanty, permitted him to have a bed upon the ground in her house, and live with her, till Providence should point out a place for him. The way was soon indicated. A servitor at Pembroke College called upon his mother, and in the course of conversation told her, that after all his college expenses for that quarter were discharged, he had received a penny. She immediately cried out, this will do for my son; and turning to him said, Will you go to Oxford, George? Happening to have the same friends as this young man, she waited on them without delay; they promised their interest to obtain a servitor's place in the same college, and in reliance upon this George returned to the grammar-school. Here he applied closely to his books, and shaking off, by the strong effort of a religious mind, all evil and idle courses, produced, by the influence of his talents and example, some reformation among his school-fellows. He attended public service constantly, received the sacrament monthly, fasted often, and prayed often, more than twice a day in private. At the age of eighteen he was removed to Oxford; the recommendation of his friends was successful; another friend borrowed for him ten pounds, to defray the expense of entering; and with a good fortune beyond his hopes, he was admitted servitor immediately. "Servitorships are more in the spirit of a Roman Catholic than of an English establishment. Among the Catholics, religious poverty is made respectable, because it is accounted a virtue; and humiliation is an essential part of monastic discipline. But in our state of things it cannot be wise to brand men with the mark of inferiority; the line is already broad enough. Oxford would do well if, in this respect, it imitated Cambridge, abolished an invidious distinction of dress, and dispensed with services which, even when they are not mortifying to those who perform them, are painful to those to whom they are performed. Whitefield found the advantage of having been used to a public-house; many who could choose their servitor preferred him, because of his diligent and alert attendance; and thus, by help of the profits of the place, and some little presents made him by a kind-hearted tutor, he was enabled to live without being beholden to his relations for more than four-and-twenty pounds, in the course of three years. Little as this is, it shews, when compared with the ways and means of the elder Wesley at College, that half a century had greatly enhanced the expenses of Oxford. At first he was rendered uncomfortable by the society into which he was thrown; he had several chamberfellows, who would fain have made him join them in their riotous mode of life; and as he could only escape from their persecutions by sitting alone in his study, he was sometimes benumbed with cold; but when they perceived the strength as well as the singularity of his character, they suffered him to take his own way in peace. "Before Whitefield went to Oxford, he had heard of the young men there who lived by rule and method,' and were therefore called Methodists. They were now much talked of, and generally de So the word is printed in his own account of his life; it seems to mean the sleeves which are worn by cleanly men in dirty employments, and may possibly be a misprint for scoggers, as such sleeves are called in some parts of England. spised. He, however, was drawn toward them by kindred feelings, defended them strenuously when he heard them reviled, and when he saw them go through a ridiculing crowd to receive the sacrament at St Mary's, was strongly inclined to follow their example. For more than a year he yearned to be acquainted with them; and it seems that the sense of his inferior condition kept him back. At length the great object of his desires was effected. A pauper had attempted suicide, and Whitefield sent a poor woman to inform Charles Wesley that he might visit the person, and minister spiritual medicine; the messenger was charged not to say who sent her; contrary to these orders, she told his name, and Charles Wesley, who had seen him frequently walking by himself, and heard something of his character, invited him to breakfast the next morning. An introduction to this little fellowship soon followed; and he also, like them, began to live by rule, and to pick up the very fragments of his time, that not a moment of it might be lost.'" The following is Southey's account of Whitefield's qualifications as an orator when he first began preaching : "The man who produced this extraordinary effect, had many natural advantages. He was something above the middle stature, well-proportioned, though at that time slender, and remarkable for His a native gracefulness of manner. complexion was very fair, his features regular, his eyes small and lively, of a dark blue colour in recovering from the measles, he had contracted a squint with one of them; but this peculiarity rather rendered the expression of his countenance more rememberable, than any degree lessened the effect of its uncommon His voice excelled both in sweetness. melody and compass, and its fine modulations were happily accompanied by that grace of action which he possessed in an eminent degree, and which has been said to be the chief requisite of an orator. An ignorant man described his eloquence oddly but strikingly, when he said, that Mr Whitefield preached like a lion. strange a comparison conveyed no unapt a notion of the force, and vehemence, and passion of that oratory which awed the hearers, and made them tremble like Felix before the apostle. For believing himself to be the messenger of God, commissioned to call sinners to repentance, he spoke as one conscious of his high credentials, with authority and power; yet in all his discourses there was a fervent and melting charity-an earnestness of VOL. XV. persuasion-an out-pouring of redundant love, partaking the virtue of that faith from which it flowed, inasmuch as it seemed to enter the heart which it pierced, and to heal it as with balm." Of his maturer powers, he thus collects the testimony of the most unquestionable witnesses. "Dr Franklin has justly observed, that it would have been fortunate for his reputation if he had left no written works ; his talents would then have been estimated by the effect which they are known to have produced; for, on this point, there is the evidence of witnesses whose credibility cannot be disputed. Whitefield's writings, of every kind, are certainly below mediocrity. They afford the measure of his knowledge and of his intellect, but not of his genius as a preacher. His printed sermons, instead of being, as is usual, the most elaborate and finished discourses of their author, have indeed the disadvantage of being precisely those upon which the least care had been bestowed. This may be easily explained. "By hearing him often,' says Franklin, 'I came to distinguish easily between sermons newly composed, and those which he had often preached in the course of his travels. His delivery of the latter was so improved by frequent repetition, that every accent, every emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well turned, and well placed, that, without being interested in the subject, one could not help being pleased with the discourse -a pleasure of much the same kind with that received from an excellent piece of music. This is an advantage itinerant preachers have over those who are stationary, as the latter cannot well improve their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals.' It was a great advantage, but it was not the only one, nor the greatest, which he derived from repeating his discourses, and reciting instead of reading them. Had they been delivered from a written copy, one delivery would have been like the last; the paper would have operated like a spell, from which he could not depart-invention sleeping, while the So utterance followed the eye. But when he had nothing before him except the audience whom he was addressing, the judgment and the imagination, as well as the memory, were called forth. Those parts were omitted which had been felt to come feebly from the tongue, and fall heavily upon the ear, and their place was supplied by matter newly laid in in the course of his studies, or fresh from the feeling of the moment. They who lived with him could trace him in his sermons 2 E to the book which he had last been reading, or the subject which had recently taken his attention. But the salient points of his oratory were not prepared passages, they were bursts of passion, like jets from a Geyser, when the spring is in full play. "The theatrical talent which he displayed in boyhood, manifested itself strongly in his oratory. When he was about to preach, whether it was from a pulpit, or a table in the streets, or a rising ground, he appeared with a solemnity of manner, and an anxious expression of countenance, that seemed to shew how deeply he was possessed with a sense of the importance of what he was about to say. His elocution was perfect. They who heard him most frequently could not remember that he ever stumbled at a word, or hesitated for want of one. He never faultered, unless when the feeling to which he had wrought himself overcame him, and then his speech was interrupted by a flow of tears. Sometimes he would appear to lose all self-command, and weep exceedingly, and stamp loudly and passionately; and sometimes the emotion of his mind exhausted him, and the beholders felt a momentary apprehension even for his life. And, indeed, it is said, that the effect of this vehemence upon his bodily frame was tremendous; that he usually vomited after he had preached, and sometimes discharged in this manner, a considerable quantity of blood. But this was when the effort was over, and nature was left at leisure to relieve herself. While he was on duty, he controlled all sense of infirmity or pain, and made his advantage of the passion to which he had given way. You blame me for weeping,' he would say,' but how can I help it, when you will not weep for yourselves, though your immortal souls are upon the verge of destruction, and, for aught I know, you are hearing your last sermon, and may never more have an opportunity to have Christ offered to you!' It is my agonizing Lord!_ Hark, hark! do you not hear?-O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done!" This he introduced frequently in his sermons; and one who lived with him says, the effect was not destroyed by repetition; even to those who knew what was coming, it came as forcibly as if they had never heard it before. In this respect it was like fine stage acting; and, indeed, Whitefield indulged in an histrionic manner of preaching, which would have been offensive if it had not been rendered admirable by his natural gracefulness and inimitable power. Sometimes, at the close of a sermon, he would personate a judge about to perform the last awful part of his office. With his eyes full of tears, and an emotion that made his speech faulter, after a pause which kept the whole audience in breathless expectation of what was to come, he would say, I am now going to put on my condemning cap. Sinner, I must do it: I must pronounce sentence upon you!' and then, in a tremendous strain of eloquence, describing the eternal punishment of the wicked, he recited the words of Christ, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.' When he spoke of St Peter, how, after the cock crew, he went out and wept bitterly, he had a fold of his gown ready, in which he hid his face. "Perfect as it was, histrionism like this would have produced no lasting effect upon the mind, had it not been for the unaffected earnestness and the indubitable sincerity of the preacher, which equally characterized his manner, whether he rose to the height of passion in his discourse, or won the attention of the motley crowd by the introduction of familiar stories, and illustrations adapted to the meanest capacity. To such digressions his disposition led him, which was naturally inclined to a comic playfulness. Minds of a certain power will sometimes express their strongest feelings with a levity at which formalists are shocked, and which dull men are wholly unable to understand. But language which, when coldly repeated, might seem to border upon irreverence and burlesque, has its effect in popular preaching, when the in Wesley says of him, in his Journal, "How wise is God in giving different talents to different preachers! Even the little improprieties both of his language and manner, were a means of profiting many who would not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or a more calm and regular manner of speaking." St Augustine somewhere says, that is the best key which opens the door: quid enim prodest clavis aurea si aperire quod volumus non potest? aut quod obest lignea, si hoc potest, quando nihil quæri. mus nisi patere quod clausum est ? tention of the speaker is perfectly understood: it is suited to the great mass of the people; it is felt by them when better things would have produced no impression; and it is borne away when wiser arguments would have been forgotten. There was another and more uncommon way in which Whitefield's peculiar talent sometimes was indulged; he could direct his discourse toward an individual so skilfully, that the congregation had no suspicion of any particular purport in that part of the sermon; while the person at whom it was aimed felt it, as it was directed, in its full force. There was sometimes a degree of sportivenesst almost akin to mischief in his humour. "Remarkable instances are related of the manner in which he impressed his hearers. A man at Exeter stood with stones in his pocket, and one in his hand, ready to throw at him; but he dropped it before the sermon was far advanced, and going up to him after the preaching was over, he said, Sir, I came to hear you with an intention to break your head; but God, through your ministry, has given me a broken heart.' A ship-builder was once asked what he thought of him. "Think!' he replied, 'I tell you, sir, every Sunday that I go to my parish church, I can build a ship from stem to stern under the sermon; but, were it to save my soul, under Mr Whitefield, I could not lay a : single plank.' Humet pronounced him the most ingenious preacher he had ever heard; and said, it was worth while to go twenty miles to hear him. But, perhaps, the greatest proof of his persuasive powers was, when he drew from Franklin's pocket the money which that clear, cool reasoner had determined not to give it was for the orphan-house at Savannah. I did not,' says the American philosopher, disapprove of the design; but as Georgia was then destitute of materials and workmen, and it was proposed to send them from Philadelphia at a great expense, I thought it would have been better to have built the house at Philadelphia, and brought the children to it. This I advised; but he was resolute in his first project, rejected my counsel, and I therefore refused to contribute. I happened, soon after, to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the copper; another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably, that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all.'” + Mr Winter relates a curious anecdote of his preaching at a maid-servant who had displeased him by some negligence in the morning. "In the evening," says the writer, "before the family retired to rest, I found her under great dejection, the reason of which I did not apprehend; for it did not strike me that, in exemplifying a conduct inconsistent with the Christian's professed fidelity to his Redeemer, he was drawing it from remissness of duty in a living character, but she felt it so sensibly, as to be greatly distressed by it, until he relieved her mind by his usually amiable deportment. The next day, being about to leave town, he called out to her Farewell:' she did not make her appearance, which he remarked to a female friend at dinner, who replied, Sir, you have exceedingly wounded poor Betty.' This excited in him a hearty laugh; and when I shut the coach door upon him, he said, ' Be sure to remember me to Betty; tell her the account is settled, and that I have nothing more against her.'" · One of his flights of oratory, not in the best taste, is related on Hume's authority. "After a solemn pause, Mr Whitefield thus addresses his audience :—'The attendant angel is just about to leave the threshold, and ascend to Heaven; and shall he ascend and not bear with him the news of one sinner, among all the multitude, reclaimed from the error of his ways!' To give the greater effect to this exclamation, he stamped with his foot, lifted up his hands and eyes to Heaven, and cried aloud, Stop, Gabriel! stop, Gabriel! stop, ere you enter the sacred portals, and yet carry with you the news of one sinner converted to God!" Hume said this address was accompanied with such animated, yet natural action, that it surpassed anything he ever saw or heard in any other preacher. 6 § "At this sermon," continues Franklin, "there was also one of our club, who, being of my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by precaution, emptied his pockets before he came from home: towards the conclusion of the discourse, however, he felt a strong inclination to give, and applied to a neighbour who stood near him, to lend him some money for the purpose The request was fortunately made to perhaps the only man in the company who had the firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His answer was, At any other time, friend Hopkinson, I would lend to thee freely, but not now; for thee seems to me to be out of thy right senses.'" We suspect that, after all, this man was worth Irving and Chalmers put together in the pulpit; and certainly the dozen or two pages Southey has devoted to him, are no more than his due. Wesley might have been contented with a similar allowance. The history of another of the associates-one of the lay preachers, may be taken as a favourable specimen of the way in which Southey discusses the subordinate parts of his subject. It is the life of one Haimes, a soldier and a saint. "Being sent to London with the campequipage, he went to hear one of Whitefield's preachers, and ventured, as he was coming back from the meeting, to tell him the distress of his soul. The preacher, whose charity seems to have been upon a par with his wisdom, made answer, The work of the devil is upon you,' and rode away. It was of the tender mercies of God,' says poor Haime, ⚫ that I did not put an end to my life.' "Yet,' he says, I thought if I must be damned myself, I will do what I can that others may be saved; so I began to reprove open sin wherever I saw or heard it, and to warn the ungodly that, if they did not repent, they would surely perish; but, if 1 found any that were weary and heavy laden, I told them to wait upon the Lord, and he would renew their strength; yet I found no strength myself.' He was, however, lucky enough to hear Charles Wesley, at Colchester, and to consult him when the service was over. Wiser than the Calvinistic preacher, Charles Wesley encouraged him, and bade him go on without fear, and not be dismayed at any temptation. These words sank deep, and were felt as a blessing to him for many years. His regiment was now ordered to Flanders; and writing from thence to Wesley for comfort and counsel, he was exhorted to persevere in his calling. It is but a little thing,' said Wesley, that man should be against you, while you know God is on your side. If he give you any companion in the narrow way, it is well; and it is well if he does not; but by all means miss no opportunity-speak and spare not; declare what God has done for your soul; regard not worldly prudence. Be not ashamed of Christ, or of his word, or of his work, or of his servants. Speak the truth in love, even in the midst of a crooked generation.' I did speak,' he says, and not spare.' He was in the battle of Dettingen, and being then in a state of hope, he describes himself as in the most exalted and envi able state of mind, while, during seven hours, he stood the fire of the enemy. He was in a new world, and his heart was filled with love, peace, and joy, more than tongue could express. His faith, as well as his courage, was put to the trial, and both were found proof. "Returning into Flanders to take up their winter quarters, as they marched beside the Maine, they saw the dead men lie in the river, and on the banks, as dung for the earth; for many of the French, attempting to pass the river after the bridge had been broken, had been drowned, and cast ashore where there was none to bury them.' During the winter, he found two soldiers who agreed to take a room with him, and meet every night to pray and read the Scriptures; others soon joined them; a society was formed; and Methodism was organized in the army with great success. There were three hundred in the society, and six preachers beside Haime. As soon as they were settled in a camp, they built a tabernacle. He had generally a thousand hearers, officers as well as common soldiers; and he found means of hiring others to do his duty, that he might have more leisure for carrying on the spiritual war. He frequently walked between twenty and thirty miles a-day, and preached five times a-day for a week together. I had three armies against me,' he says: the French army, the wicked English army, and an army of devils; but I feared them not.' It was not, indeed, likely that he should go on without some difficulties, his notions of duty not being always perfectly in accordance with the established rules of military discipline. An officer one day asked him what he preached; and as Haime mentioned certain sins which he more particularly denounced, and which perhaps touched the inquirer a little too closely, the officer swore at him, and said, that, if it were in his power, he would have him flogged to death. Sir,' replied Haime, you have a commission over men; but I have a commission from God to tell you, you must either repent of your sins, or perish everlastingly.' His commanding officer asked him how he came to preach; and being answered, that the Spirit of God constrained him to call his fellow-sinners to repentance, told him that then he must restrain that spirit. Haime replied, he would die first. It is to the honour of his officers that they manifested no serious displeasure at language like this. His conduct toward one of his comrades, might have drawn upon him much more unpleasant consequences. This was a reprobate . |