From His Arrival in London, 1748, to His Going to Ireland, 1751

On Whitefield’s visiting a few of his friends, immediately after his return, he found himself in no very agreeable situation. His congregation at the Tabernacle was sadly scatlcred. And as to his outward circumstances, he had sold all his honse-Iiold furniture, to help to pay the Orphan-house debt, which yet was far from being canceled. But under all these discouragements, he was still supported. His congregation was soon recruited, and received him with the greatest joy. And at this time a very unexpected thing happened to him. The Countess of Huntingdon, before his arrival, had ordered Mr. Howel Harris to bring him to her house at Chelsea, as soon as he came on shore. He went and having preached twice, the countess wrote to him, that several of the nobility desired to

* During this voyage, among other letters, he wrote the following: — “June 24, 1748, (on board.) Yesterday I made an end of revising all my Journals. Alas! alas! in how many tlyngs I have judged and acted wrong. I have been too rash and hasty in giving characters both of places and persons. Being fond of scripture language, 1 have often used a style too apostolical, and at the same time I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wild-fireas been mixed with it, and I find that I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assistance of the-Spirit of God. I have, likewise, too much made inward impressions my rule of acting, and too soon and too explicitly published what had been better kept in longer, or told after my death. By these things I have hurt the blessed cause I would defend, and also stirred up needless opposition. This has humbled me much, and made me think of a saying of Mr. Henry — ‘Joseph had more honesty than he had policy, or he never would have told his dreams.’ At the same time, I cannot but praise God, who fills me with so much of his holy fire, and carried me, a poor weak youth, through such a torrent, both of popularity and contempt, and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless him for ripening my judgment a little more, for giving me to see and confess, and I hope in some degree to correct and amend some of my former mistakes.”

At this time also he finished his “Abridgment of Mr. Law’s Serious Call;” which he endeavored to make more useful, by excluding whatever is not truly evangelical, and illustrating the subject more fully from the Holy Scriptures.

11& MEMOIRS OF WIIITEFIET.D.

liear him. “Blessed be God,” he says, in his reply, “that the rich and great begin to have a hearing ear: I think it is a good sign that our Lord intends to give, to some at least, an obedient heart. How wonderfully does our Redeemer deal with souls! If they will hear the gospel only under a ceiled roof, ministers shall be sent to them there; if only in a church, or a field, they shall have it there. A word in the lesson, when I was last with your ladyship, struck me, — Pmd preached jtrivately to those that were of reputation. This must be the way, I presume, of dealing with the nobility, who yet know not the Lord.” This is characteristic; and his answer to a second note, respecting the time, is still more so. “Ever since the reading your ladyship’s condescending letter, my soul has been overpowered with His presence, who is all in all. When your ladyship styled me your friend I was amazed at your condescension; but when I thought that Jesus was my friend, it quite overcame me and made me to lie prostrate before Him, crying. Why me? why me? I just now rose from the ground, after praying the Lord of all lords to water your soul, honored madam, every moment. As there seems to be a door opening for the nobility to hear the gospel, I will defer my journey, and, God willing, preach at your ladyship’s. Oh that God may be with me, and make me humble! I am ashamed to think your ladyship will admit me under your roof; much more am I amazed that the Lord Jesus will make use of such a creature as I am; — cpiite astonished at your ladyship’s condescension, and the immerited supernbounding grace and goodness of Him who has loved me, and given Himself for me.”

Lord Chesterfield and Bolingbroke* were among his auditors at Chelsea: the countess had done well in inviting those persons who stood most in need of repentance. The former complimented the preacher with his usual courtliness; the latter is said to have been much moved at the discourse: he invited Whitefield to visit him, and seems then to have been not disinclined to pass from infidehty to Christianity.

* This celebrated infidel and tory, was one day reading Calvin’s Institutes, A clergyman (the Rev. Mr. Church, who died curate of Battersea) of his lordship’s acquaintance coming in on a visit, Lord B. said to him, “You have caught me reading John Calvin; he was indeed a man of great parts, profound sense, and vast learning; he handles the doctrines of grace in a very masterly manner.” “Doctrines of grace!” replied the clergyman, “the doctrines of grace have set all mankind together by the ears.” “I am surprised to hear you say so;” answered Lord B., “you who profess to believe and to preach Christianity. Those doctrnies are certainly the doctrines of the Bible, and if I believe the Bible I must believe them. And, let me seriously tell you, that the greatest miracle in the world is the subsistence of Christianity, and its continued preservation, as a religion, when the preaching of it is committed to the care of such unchristian wretches as you.”

Lady Huntingdon, pleased, perhaps, by the applause which was bestowed upon the performance, appointed Wliitcficld one of her chaplains. He, at this time, writing to Mr. Wesley, says, “What have you thought about a union 7 I am afraid an external one is impracticable. I find, by your sermons, that we diftcr in principles more than I thought, and I believe we are upon two different plans. My attachment to America will not permit me to abide very long in England, consequently I should but weave a Penelope’s web if I formed societies; and, if I should form them, I have not proper assistants to take care of them; I intend, therefore, to go about preaching the gospel to every creature.”

In September, 1748, he visited Scotland the third time, and was received with a hearty welcome. Multitudes crowded to hear him, both at Edinburgh and Glasgow. “I have reason,” says he, “to believe some have been awakened, and many quickened and comforted. My old friends are more solidly so than ever; and a foundation, I trust, has been laid for doing much good, if ever the Lord should call me thither again. Two Synods and one Presbytery, brought me upon the carpet; but all has worked for good.”

These were the Synods of Glasgow and Perth, and the Presbytery of Edinburgh. What happened in the Synod of Glasgow, may be seen in a pamphlet, entitled. “a fair and impartial Account of the Debate in the Synod of Glasgow and Air, October 6th, 1748, against employing Mr. Whitefield,” published at Edinburgh the same year, and supposed to be written by the Rev. Dr. Erskine, who was then minister at Kirkintillock. The short history of the matter is this: A motion was made, tending to prohibit or discourage ministers from employing Whitefield. The speeches made in support of the motion were upon the following topics: His being a priest of the Church of England — That he had not subscribed the Formula — His imprudences — Chimerical scheme of the Orphan-house — Want of evidence that the money he collects is rightly applied — Asserting that assurance is essential to faith — Encouraging a dependence on impulses and iimnediate revelations — Declaring, on slender evidence, some people converted, and others carnal and unregenerated — Often, indeed, pretending to repent of his blunders, and retract; but as often relapsing into them — And lastly, his being under a sentence of suspension by Conraiissary Garden, from which he had appealed to the High Court of Chancery, and made oath to prosecute that appeal in a twelve month; and yet it was never prosecuted.

On the other hand, the ministers who were against the motion, spoke in this manner: “I blush to think (said one) that, any of our brclhrcn should befriend a proposal so contrary to that moderation and catholic spirit which now is, and I hope ever will be, the glory of our church. I am sensible, that many things in the Church of England need reformation; but I honor her, notwithstanding, as our sister church. If Bishop Butler, Bishop Sherlock, or Bishop Seeker, were in Scotland, I should welcome them to my pulpit. In this I should imitate Mr. Samuel Rutherford, as firm a Presbyterian as any of us, who yet employed Bishop Usher. There is no law of Christ, no act of Assembly, prohibiting me to give my pulpit to an Episcopal, Independent, or Anabaptist minister, if of sound principles in the fundamentals of religion, and of a sober life. Our church expressly enjoins. Act. XII, April, 1711, that great tenderness is to be used to foreign Protestants. The requiring strangers to subscribe our Formula, before they preach with us, would lay as effectual a bar against employing those of Congregational principles, or Presbyterian non-subscribers, as those of the Church of England.”

“As to Mr. Whitefield (said another) there are few ministers whose characters have been so well attested, by the most competent judges, both at home and abroad. One thing I cannot but observe: those who have spoken most warmly against Mr. Whitefield in this debate, acknowledge they have made little or no inquiry into his character: whereas those on the other side have made a careful inquiry; and that inquiry has turned out entirely to their satisfaction. With regard to his imprudences, there is a great difference betwixt blunders owing to a bad heart, and those that are owing only to a misinformed judgment; especially, when the mistakes that occasioned them have misled several great and good men. Whether Mr. Whitefield’s scheme of theOrphan-house be prudent or not, it is demonstrable it was honestly meant. The magistrates of Savannah published, three years ago, in the Philadelphia Gazette, an affidavit that they had carefully examined Mr. Whitefield’s receipts and disbursements, and found that what he had collected in behalf of the orphans had been honestly applied; and that, besides, he had given considerably to them of his own property. As to his maintaining that assurance is essential to faith, encouraging an unwarrantable regard to impressions, and being too hasty in pronouncing men carnal or converted, his sentiments in these particulars, have been altered for upwards of two years. And now he scarce preaches a sermon, without guarding his hearers against relying on impressions, telling them that faith, and a persuasion we are justified, are very diflerent things, and that a holy life is the best evidence of a gracious state. The retractions are owing to a real cliangc of sentiment. Letters from correspondents in New England show, that this change is at least of two years date, and that ever since it happened he has preached and acted with remarkable cantion. Lastly, with respect to the prosecution of his appeal, Mr. Whitefield exerted himself to the utmost to get his appeal heard, but could not prevail on the Lords Commissioners so much as once to meet on the affair; they, no doubt, thinking of Mr. Garden’s arbitrary proceedings with the contempt they deserved. But, say some, ‘Mr. Whitefield, being under a suspension not yet reversed, is now no minister.’ But for what was he suspended? Why, for no other crime, than omitting to use the form of prayer prescribed in the communion book, when officiating in a Presbyterian congregation. And shall a meeting of Presbyterian ministers pay any regard to a sentence which had such a foundation?”

The issue of the debate was, a rejecting of the motion by a vote of 37 to 13; and a resolution which was so expressed as to be a decent burial of it; laying no new restriction on ministers from inviting strangers, but leaving things precisely as they were before. And they who chose to give Whitefield their pulpits never after met with any molestation. Upon the whole, the attacks made on Whitefield’s character proved the occasion of informing the Synod of the falsehood of many aspersions thrown out against hiin, of the great increase of his prudence and caution, and the remarkable change in his sentiments and behavior, so far as either were offensive. And thus what was intended for his reproach turned out to his honor.

While he was in Scotland, he endeavored to do all the service he could to the New Jersey College, and in conjunction with some ministers who wished well to the institution, advised the sending over a minister from America, to make application in person: which was afterwards done in the year 1754, when application was made by Mr. Tennent and Mr. Davies to the assembly, who appointed a general collection.

Mr. Whitefield’s thoughts were now engaged on a plan for making his Orphan-house, which was at first intended only for the reception of poor fatherless children, a seminary of literature and academical learning. He thought that such an institution was much wanted in America, and that, if properly conducted, it would render very essential service to the colony. In consequence of which, on his return to England, he signified this to be his intention, by letter to the Trustees, if they would be pleased to alter the government of the colony, and permit a limited use of negroes; for otherwise, it was his opinion, that Georgia would never become a flourishing province. In the mean time, he traveled, preached every where as usual, meeting with great success during the winter.

In February, 1749, he made an excursion to Exeter* and Plymouth, where he was agreeably surprised to find a great alteration in the people, since his last visit to those parts, about five years before. He was received by his late converts as an angel of God; and by none more cordially than the Rev. Andrew Kinsman ;t at whose house he resided during the present

When Whitefield was preaching at Exeter, a nvin was present who had loaded his pockets with stones, in order to fling them at that precious ambassador of Christ. He heard his prayer, however, with patience: but no sooner had he named his text, than the man pulled a stone out of his pocket, and held it in his hand, waiting for a fair opportunity to throw it. But God sent a word to his heart, and the stone dropped from his hand. After sermon he went to Mr. Whitefield and told him, “Sir, I came to hear you this day, with a view to break your head; but the Spirit of God, through your ministry, has given me a broken heart.” The man proved to be a sound convert and lived an ornament to the gospel. Such power belongeth unto God!

t The Bev. Andrew Kinsman was born at Tavistock, in the county of Devon, November 17, 1724. His childhood and youth were marked by a disposition and manners mild and engaging, together with a behavior to his parents peculiarly dutiful. He was, however, unacquainted with the religion of the gospel, until he had attained his seventeenth year, when providentially meeting with a volume of Mr. Whitefield’s sermons, one of those on the new birth, was greatly blessed as a means of informing his judgment, and alarming his conscience. Having but a few spiritual friends to converse with, he continued for some time in a state of suspense, relative to his interest in divine things, and was uncertain whether he was actually renewed in the spirit of his mind. But God, who heareth the sorrowful sighing prisoner, at length gave him the “oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.”

His gloomy and tormenting fears being happily dissipated, and his heart exulting in the grace of God his Savior, he was soon impressed with an ardent concern, to interest the attention of his relations in these important objects.

Their great indifference, even to the form of godliness, gave frequent occasion to many strong cries and tears to God in secret, that Christ might be formed in their hearts, the hope of glory. But being unable to suppress his feelings any longer, he one evening exclaimed, with an effectual emotion, as they were retiring to their chambers, “What! shall we go to bed without prayer 1 How do we know but some of us may awake in hell before morning 1” By this tmexpected address, the family were siezed with a solemn awe; and while they looked on each other with conscious shame, for the neglect of so obvious a duty, he fell upon his knees, and prayed with a readiness and fervor, which greatly excited their astonishment.

Nor was his anxiety confined to their spiritual welfare; for his heart’s desire was, that his neighbors might also participate in the unsearchable riches of Christ. He therefore shortly began to read Whitefield’s sermons, to as many as would attend; and supposed, with Melancthon, that what had proved so singular a blessing to himself, would not fail to produce similar effects on them, as soon as they were heard. Continuing to read the works of eminent divines for some time, the small company who attended these exercises, perceiving him to be a youth of promising abiliticE, encouraged him to cultivate them, by the study and delivery of his ovn discourses. After repeated solicitations he was prevailed upon; and his first essay of this nature, was from Ezek. xxxvii. 3. “Son of man, can these bones livel and I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.” He used to speak of this as a season peculiarly solemn and affecting. The Lord encouraged these his early efforts, giving him many seals to his ministry, among whom were his father, mother, and three sisters.

and every subsequent visit. From this time, Mr. Kinsman became intimately acquainted, and closely connected with White-About this period, Whilefield, in one of his voyaijes to America, was obliged, by an unexpected occurrence, to repair to Plyinoutli, where he had never been bel’ore, to secure himself a passage in a ship about to sail from that port. Here, acconling to his usual custom, he embraced the first opportunity of preaching to the inhabitants. He had not delivered many discourses, before a gracious Providence preserved him from being assassinated, and at the same time, overruled the horrid attempt of his enonies, to the furtherance of the gospel. Intelligence of these circumstances being circulated around the adjacent country, Mr. Kinsman fled with great eagerness to hear him. Being introduced after sermon to his company, he prevailed on him to visit Tavistock. But the opposition he there met with was so violent, as to excite such a deep rooted antipathy in the mind of Mr. Kinsman, to his native town, that he resolved to reside in it no longer. Having removed to Plymouth, he, at the age of about twenty-one, commenced an acquaintance with Miss Ann Tiley, with whom he was united in marriage, in the year 1715. She was a very spiritual and zealous christian; and, with many others, had been converted under Mr. Whitefield’s ministry, while he was detained there through the delays of the convoy. By her he” had four children, Ann, AndrcAv, John, and George; the two former of whom still survive, and are members of the religious community over which he presided.

At PljTiiouth, God gave testimony to the word of his grace. The congregations rapidly increased; and many were “added to the church of such as should be saved.” A large place of worship was shortly after erected, called “The Tabernacle,” towards the erection of which, Mr. Kinsman generously contributed. This place was chiefly supplied by Mr. Whitefield’s colleagues, the Ret. Messrs. Cennick, Adams, Middleton, &c. &c. who were kindly entertained under Mr. Kinsman’s roof, free of any expense to themselves, or the infant cause.

As Plynouth Dock, about two miles from Plymouth, became increasingly populous; and as there was no place of worship in all the town to accommodate the inhabitants, except the little chapel in the King’s Yard, Mr. Kinsman considered this circunLstances as a fit occasion to difiuse among them the .savor of the knowledge of Christ. He began to preach out of doors, and continued this practice for some time, amidst the most violent persecutions; being frequently obliged to fly for his life; and he often expected that before the ensuing morning, his dwelling house at Plymouth would be demolished. At times he has been surrounded by eight of nine drums from the military, to drown his voice.

But amidst this formidable opposition, his strength was equal to his day. Now Providence would soften his adversaries into pity, and thereby divert them from their evil purposes; thcji would fortify him with courage to withstand the united efforts of outrageous mobs. Once in particular, at Dock, a person of considerable fortune hired a number of men to interrupt his preaching. On arriving at the spot, they were so moved by his engaging address, that they not only desisted from their design, but directed their vengeance against their mischievous employer, who with difficulty escaped with his life; and so exemplified the words of David, “His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violent dealing shall come down upon his own pate.”

At another time, when the congregation was assembled in Plymouth Tabernacle, it was disturbed by a lieutenant of the navy; who came with a part of his crew, armed for a desperate assault. Having broken the windows, they entered the place in a body. Their first attempt was to extinguish the lights, and then to fall upon the people; but a person perceiving their design, drew up the chandelier to the ceiling of the building. Bafiled in this project, they fell upon the people, without regard either to age or sex, and beat them with their bludgeons in a merciless manner.

The worship being interrupted, a general alarm and outcry of murder field; for whom he retained the most fihal affection to his dying day; frequently traveled with, and consulted him as a father upon all his religious concerns.

ensued. At this instant, Mr. Kinsmnu, by an extraordinary effort, throwing himself into the niidsl of the thronj;, seized the lieutenant, the ringleader of the rioters; and as he was drawing his sword upon him, wrested it from his hand. No exertion on the side of the rioters could force Mr. Kinsman to quit his hold of the lieutenant; and by main strength, in the heat of the rencounter, he drew him out of the Tabernacle into the yard, where the same scene of confusion was continued. Here the lieutenant made many violent struggles to disengage himself, left his laced hat, and had his clothes considerably torn in the attempt. But Mr. Kinsman preserved his hold, dragged him into his dwelling-house, and carried him off through the front door to the magistrate. Both parties were now at a loss to discover what had become of their champions. Mr. Kinsman’s friends were almost distracted, supposing he had been carried off by the rioters, and torn piece-meal. But they were soon agreeably disappointed. The lieutenant conducted himself with great insolence before the magistrate, who committed him to the watch house, where he lay all night. Being brought before him again the next morning, he acknowledged his offence, engaged to repair all damages, and make such other concessions as the injured party might require. Mr. Kinsman having obtained his object, and being unwilling to injure the cause of reiglion in the e.steem of the world, by a spirit of inexorable resentment, acceded to his proposals, and he was accordingly dismissed; nor was he ever after called upon by Mr. Kinsman or his friends, to fulfil his engagements.

Having procured a private house in Dock, he preached the first time to about sixteen persons; but the congregali(jns rapidly increased; and in the year 1752, a meeting house was erected, which, by the blessing of God upon nis ministry, it became necessary to enlarge six or seven times.

He was now called out to itinerate frequently in many counties in the kingdom; and his peculiar abilities attracted general attention, which, together with the affability of his manners, and his uncommon cheerfulness, raised him to a high degree of esteem wherever he went. Nor was he less respected, nor his ministry attended with less general good, at Bristol and London — cities to which he was invited by Whitefield; who used to call Bristol Mr. Kinsman’s America, alluding to his own popularity and success in that quarter of the world.

Whitefield being about to sail for America, sent for him to London. On his arrival he was introduced, and dined with him at the Tabernacle-house, in company with a young clergyman. After dinner there was a most tremendous storm of thunder and lightning. As they stood at the window below the raging elements, Mr. Kinsman, supposing the clergyman, from his bemg a visitant to Whitefield, to be a serious person, familiarly put his hand upon his shoulder, and with great cheerfulness and energy, repeated jhe words of Dr. Watts : —

“The God that rules on high

And thunders when he please;
That rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas, —”

And then, with peculiar pathos and confidence, added,

“This awful God is ours.
Our Father and our Love!”

The words so appositely introduced, so solemnly and so emphatically delivered, made a deep impression on the mind of the young clergyman, and began a conversation, which, by the blessing of God, ended in his saving conversion.

MEMOIRS OF WniTEFIELn. 125

Multitudes crowded to hear him; and many gave proofs of a sohd conversion to God. “Now,” says he,” Plymouth seems

Here his ministry weus greatly owned: and he thought himself highly honored in preaching the first sermon that ever was delivered from the pulpit of the present Tabernacle. His harmonious voice, his sprightly and pathetic manner of address, brought no small number of all ranks to hear him: among whom was Shuter, the celebrated comedian, who, having been excited by curiosity to hear Whitelield, was so affected with his preaching, that at one time there were hopes of his being under serious impressions. Having aLso heard Mr. Kinsman, he was so delighted with him, that he frequently visited him. But the lamentable immorality that pervades the stage, the scofls of ridicule from men of considerable influence, and the contemptuous insinuations of the profane, that most dangerous and destructive method of attack to which Mr. Shuter was, by his profession, particularly exposed, soon operated as a foil to those rising hopes tlvat were entertained concerning him, and, a.s blasts, swept away those promising and blooming flowers.

Some years after, havmg forgotten where he lived, accidentally meeting Mr. Kinsman at Plymouth, he embraced him with rapture, and inquired if that was the place of his residence. He replied, “Yes; but I am just returned from London, where I have preached so often, and to such large auditories, and have been so indisposed, that Dr. Fothergill advised my immediate return to the country, for change of air.” “And I,” said Mr. Shuter,” have been acting Sir Jonn FalstaflT so often, that I thought I should have died: and the physicians advised me to come into the country for the benefit of the air. Had you died, it would have been serving the best of Masters; but had /, it would have been in the service of the devil. Oh, sir, do you think I shall ever be called again 1 I certainly was when I was studying my part in the park; and if Mr. Whitefield had let me come to the Lord’s table wilh him, I never should have gone back again. But the caresses of the great are exceedingly ensnaring. My Lord E sent for me to day; and 1 was glad I

could not go. Poor things! they are unhappy, and they want Shuter to make them laugh. But, oh, sir! such a life as yours! — As soon as I leave you, I shall be King Richard. This is what they call a good play, as good as some sermons. I acknowledge there are some striking and moral things in it. But after it, I shall come again with my farce of A Dish of all Sorts, and knock all that on the head. Fine reformers are we!” The inhabitants afterwards taking notice that he visited Mr. Kinsman, were astonished; and one gentleman in particular, asked him, if he were a Methodist 1 “Mine is a fine method, is it not 1 No; I wish I was. If any are right, they are.”

Mr. Kinsman was once preaching in London on the Lord’s day, and a heavy and unexpected shower of rain coming on, several Sabbath breakers passing at that instant, fled into the Tabernacle for shelter. Among these, was a young man who was personally acquainted with Mr. Kinsman at Plymouth. Seeing him in the pulpit he immediately resolved to wait till the conclusiun of the .service, and inquire after the welfare of his relation. This he accordingly did — to whom Mr. Kinsman replied, with his usual affability,” Your good aunt and religious mother are both lately gone to heaven; but which way are you going 1 What will your pious mother say, if she should mi.ss her William there V Though the sermon had not the least effect, this sentence struck him to the heart; and God made it the means of his conversion. He afterwards became a very valuable member of the church at Dock, and died an Israelite indeed! Some years after, his youngest son, a wild young man, marrying, and having a child, applied to Mr. Kinsman to baptize it. Mr. K. having .some knowledge of his character, told him, he would baptize his child for the grand father’.s sake; and then began to relate the striking circumstance of his f’ather’s conversion. This so affected the young man, that from that time he became serious; and is now a member of the same church at Dock.

At Plymouth and Dock his preaching was still attended with remarkable success, particularly among young persons. At length the repeated solicitato he quite a new place to me.” As his health was impaired in London, he loved to range, as he calls it, after precious souls.

tions of the people induced him to limit the sphere of his operations, and, except his visits to London and Bristol, his labors were chiefly confined to the above places.

In the year 1763, the society at Dock becoming very numerous, wished to be formed into a regular church. They therefore gave Mr. Kinsman a unanimous call to take the oversight of them; and he having accepted it, was set apart for the pastoral office at Broadmead, in Bristol, August 4th, by the Rev. Benjamin Fawcett of Kidderminster; the Rev. George Powell of Wethersfield; the Rev. Jeremiah Field of Wellington, Somerset; the Rev. Hugh Evans, and the Rev. John Thoman of Bristol. In the year 1771, he went to reside wholly at Dock; until which period he never received any pecuniary consideration for his services; nor did he, in the whole course of his ministry at Plymouth, never having required any.

After his settlement in the pastoral office, Providence raised up several of the members of the church to assist in preaching, particularly the Rev. Robert Heath, now of Redborough. But these being frequently called to labor in the adjacent towns and villages, and the state of Mr. Kinsman’s health for many years, not admitting of his preaching three times on the Lord’s day, both places were obliged to be provided with regular assistants, the most distinguished of whom were: at Plymouth the Rev. Messrs. Dunn and Padden; at Dock, the Rev. Messrs. Jones and Lake; each of whom continued for some time in the exercise of his talents with success, until invited to the pastoral office of other places. After they were removed, a succession of ministers from the metropolis and other parts of the kingdom, regularly supplied the congregation, much upon the same plan with the London and Bristol Tabernacles. In January, 1793, dropsical s3nTiptoms began first to make their appearance in his legs, and left little hope to his friends of a long continuance among them. For the last twelve months he could do little more than preach two or three sermons; and it was with great difficulty that he continued to administer the Lord’s supper.

As he approached to the close of life, he would frequently look out of hi.s chamber window, and on seeing multitudes flocking to the meeting, would say — “Thither I once led up the tribes of the Lord to worship.” When anticipating his approaching dissolution, he would freqently adopt the confidential language of the pious Watts : —

“My God, my portion, and my love,

My everlasting all:
I’ve none but thee in heav’n above,

Or on this earthly ball!”

And that other well known verse in the 17th Psalm: —

“O glorious hour! O bless’d abode!
I .shall be near and like my God!
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of the soul.”

A few hours before he died, he said, “Oh how ill I am! but my God, my life, my time, my all is in thy hands. On thee do I trust; in thee I can confide.”

“A guilty, weak, and helpless worm,

On thy kind arms I fall;
Be thou my strength and righteousness,

My Jesus and my all!”

Yet he never wished to form a now sect, or strove to become the head of a party. “I have seen ciioufh of popularity,” says he, “to be sick of it; and did not the interest of my blessed Master require my appearing in public, the world shoidd hear buthttle of me henceforth.” Notwithstanding, his zeal abated riot. “I dread the thoughts of flagging in the latter stage of my road,” was an expression used in his letters to his friends. He was often indisposed; but he thought that traveling and preaching did him good. “Fear not your weak body,” says he, in a letter to the Rev. James Jlervey, “we are immortal till our work is done. Christ’s laborers must live by miracle — if not, I must not live at all; for God only knows what I daily endure; my continual vomitings almost kill me; and yet the pulpit is my cure — so that my friends begin to pity me less, and to leave off that ungrateful caution, ’ spare thyself.’ I speak this to encourage you.”

In March, 1749, he returned to London, having traveled about SIX HUNDRED MILES in the west, and to his satisfaction found that his former labors had been abundantly blessed.

In May, he went to Portsmouth and Portsea,* where he

A short time before he died, Mrs. Kinsman asked him how he did. He replied with a sweet serenity, “Still in the body.”

“But in his dying countenance was seen
A smile, the index of a soul serene.”

Continuing sensible, being almost gone, and scarcely able to articulate, he said in a broken manner,

“Jesus, lover of my soul.”

Then smiled again, and without a sigh, fell asleep in the arms of that compassionate Jesus, whom he had ardently loved and faithfully preached, for more than fifty years. He died February 28, 1793, in the sixty-ninth year of his age.

On the following Sabbath, two funeral sermons were preached for him; one at Plymouth, by the Rev. Mr. Macall, from John v. 35. “He was a burning and shining light.” And the other at Dock, by the Rev. Matthew Wilks, of London, from Daniel xii. 3. “They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever.”

* This town commenced with the last century: for in the year 1700 there were not more than a dozen houses on the spot: and the parish of Portsea, a-s it is now called, exclusive of the neighboring town of Portsmouth, did not contain 2000 inhabitants; but it is now a thickly populated town. At that time there was no other place of worship but the parish church; there are now twelve places devoted to the service of God.

About the year 1746, the Rev. John Cennick came to Portsea, and preached in the open air. He was followed by the Rev. Messrs. Adams, Meredith, and others, in connection with Mr. Whitefield, who himself, in 1749, visited the place, and preached in the fields to very numerous congregations. About this time several serious persons, some of whom were members of the Rev. Mr. William’s church at Gosport, and others of the Rev. Mr. Norman’s at preached to numerous and attentive auditories. Many were savingly wrought upon — prejudices every where removed — and

Portsmouth, formed themselves into a society, and by a small weekly subscription, defrayed the expenses of the preachers who visited them. Their number was considerably increased, by the divine blessing, on three vLsits paid them by Mr. Whitefield, and by the labors of other ministers. At length, in 1754, they erected a place of worship, filly-three feet by thirty, which they called, “The Tabernacle.” For about fifteen years the congregation was supplied by the Rev. Messrs. Adams, Croon, Vines, Hogg, Winter, and others; but this mode of supply proving inconvenient and expensive, they determined on having a regular minister; and bging formed into a church, were providentially led to make choice of the Rev. Thomas Tuppen, to settle among them as their pastor. Mr. Tuppen c(jmmenced his stated labors at Portsea, in March, 17Cil), and was well attended. In a letter to Whitefield, written the 30th of June, 17G1), he says, “I have never preached on a Lord’s day, but on some parts of it, I have had five hundred hearers; many times double that number; and on the week days, never less than two or three hundred, which I think some encouragement; and there is reason to believe that the Lord owns and blesses his word; and that he has many people in this plnce.”

Mr. Tuppen was born in the year 1742, at Brighthelmstone, in Sussex, where he was trained up by a sober, moral mother, in a strict attachment to the established church, the public ordinances of which he constantly attended on the Lord’s day, performing also some religious exercises at home; but, .sati.sfied with the mere performance of religious duties, he remained totally ignorant of spiritual things, and destitute of any real concern for the salvation of his soul. When he arrived at the age of sixteen, the seeds of corruption sprang up with vigor, and produced those fruits of transgression, which are too common at that dangerous period of life, unless prevented by the restraints of divine Providence, or the influence of divine grace. Becoming at this time his own master, more fully than before, by the removal of some of his friends to London, and associating with some very wicked companions, he was hurried on to the gratification of carnal appetites, with increasing eagerness, for about the space of two years.

But the Lord, who had chosen him to be a vessel of honor, to bear his name to Gentile sinners, was pleased to send his favored servant, Whitefield, to Brighton at this period. Induced by curio.sity to hear a preacher of such peculiar fame, he attended a sermon out of doors, on a Friday evening, under a tree, at the back of the White Lion Inn. But so far was he from previously wishing to derive any spiritual benefit from the sermon, that, as he confessed afterwards, he could gladly have joined the rabble in stoning him, or at least, like Saul of Tarsus, have held the clothes of those who woulil. Mr. Whitefield’s text was, Ezek. xxxiii. 11. — “Turn ye, turn ye.” Under that sermon his malice was changed into admiration; he was convinced, that though yoimg in yabrs, he was a great sinner; that he had revolted from God, and must turn again to him, or perish. This sermon, and others delivered on the same visit, became the happy means of leading him to serious and earnest inquiries about salvation. His friends, who remained near him, were alarmed, and united to oppose his religious progress; while conscience, now awakened, so strongly charged him with sin, that he endured considerable distress. He was now fully satisfied that he could never help himself; and that, if ever he were saved, he must be an eternal debtor to free and sovereign grace. He continued in a state of mental bondage for nearly ten months; and though he joined himself to a little society of christian friends, and constantly united with them in spiritual exercises, he found but transient relief from his burdens, till at one period, being about ten miles distant from home, his mind was set at liberty, and enjoyed the peace of the gospel.

In September, 1761, many of his relations having settled in London, he was indupod to follow them; and for a season, communicated with the society at the Tabernacle. At that time he resided in East Cheap, and being near the those who before cahnnniated and reviled him, wished him to continue with, and preach the gospel to them.

June 24, he wrote thus from Bristol: —” Yesterday God brought me here, after having carried me a circuit of about EIGHT HUNDRED MILES, and enabled me to preach, I suppose, to upwards of one hundred thousand souls. I have been in eight Welch counties; and, I think, we have not had one dry meeting. The work in Wales is much upon the advance,

meeting house, then occupied by the Rev. Mr. Elliot, who at that period frequently preached for Whitefield, attended his ministry for several years, and frequently heard the Rev. Mr. Hart there. In December, 1767, on the death of a preacher, who assisted Mr. Elliot, he was requested, both by the minister and the church, to preach among them occasionally, which he did for a year or two.

He was then invited to officiate among a few serious people in a remote corner of Sussex; where he had not been long, before he received an invitation from the society-^ at Portsea, to settle among them. However, previous to his settlement, he was solemnly set apart to the pastoral office; when the Rev. Mr. Elliot, of London; Rev. Dr. Samuel, of Ramsey; Rev. Mr. Ashburner, of Poole; Rev. Mr. Lacey, Baptist minister of Portsea; Rev. Benjamin Francis, of Horsley; Rev. Mr. Meadows, of London, and Rev. Mr. Brown, of Mitchel-Dean, engaged in the various services of the da)’.

By the blessing of the Lord on Mr. Tuppen’s labors at Portsea, the congregation graditally increased; so that in the year 1773, the Tabernacle was insufficient for their accommodation: it was therefore taken down, and a new house, sixty-feet by forty, with three galleries, erected in its stead; which also was soon filled.

Some years after this, Mr. Tuppen’s health declined, and he found himself unable to sustain any longer the fatigue of preaching thrice on the Lord’s day. It was therefore determined by the church, that they should have but two sermons, namely, in the morning and in the evening, during the summer season. But in November, 1784, Mr. Tuppen informed the church, that he saw it was for their interest to have three sermons on the Sabbath; but as he was not equal to that service, he thought it his duty to recommend to them to look out for another pastor. Early in the succeeding year, Mr. Tuppen preached his last sermon to them. He left the place with regret: and far the greater part of the people were affected in the same manner, though some indulged a hope of his resiuning his labors among them again. Few ministers enjoyed a larger share of the affections of their people: but the Lord, it seems, intended him to become the instrument of laying the foundation of a greater work at Bath.

It was in the year 1780, that some serious persons in that city, formed themselves into a body for public worship, according to the dissenting mode: but, in consequence of the smallness of their number, and the opposition they encountered, they with difficulty maintained the cause for four years, when Thomas Welch, Esq., of London, and some other Independents, exerted themselves in their favor, and engaged to look out for a suitable pastor for them. Mr. Tuppen was the person to whom they applied; and in the year 1785, he arrived in Bath, when the congregation rapidly increased. From about twenty-five persons, who at first attended him, the number increased in a few years, to seven or eight hmidred. The place in which they worshipped being too small for the congregation, a new one called Argyle Chapel was begim in 1789; and opened October 4, 1790. But his health was then so much reduced, that he was never able to preach a single sermon there; he could only attend the .services of the day, which were performed by the Rev. William Jay, who has been the minister of the place ever since.

Mr. Tuppen, after a lingering ilhiess, which he supported with great resignation and patience, entered into his rest on the 22d of February, 1791, at the age of forty-eight.

130 MEMOIRS OF WlllTEFlELD.

and likely to increase daily. Had my dear Rlr. Henry been there, to have seen the simplicity of so many dear souls, I am persuaded he would have said, sit cmima mea cum methodistisP After an excursion in July and August, on his return to London, he was visited by two German ministers, who had been preaching among the Jews; and were instrumental to the conversion of many of them.

In the month of September, he went into Northamptonshire and Yorkshire; and preached at Oundle, Abberford, Leeds, and Ha worth, where the pious Mr. Grimshaw,* that indefatiga-

* The Rev. William Grimshaw, A. B., was born September 3, 1708, at Brindle in Lancashire; and was educated at the schools of Blackburn and Heskin, in thai county. In the eighteenth year of his age, he was admitted a member of Christ’s college, in Cambridge; and here, as is but too usually the case, bad example deplorably prevaileci to seduce him from that decent manner of life, and those serious reflections, which had been inculcated upon him by his pious parents; for at this time, having no real change wrought upon him, and consequently havivg no root in himself, the prevalent impiety of the college carried him away so far, that, for the space of more than two years, he seemed utterly to have lost all sense of religion and seriousness: nor was there any revival of his former impressions, till on the day when he was ordained deacon, in the year 1731. On this occasion, he was much affected with a sense of the importance of the ministerial office, which he was taking upon him, and the diligence which ought to be used in the discharge of it. Yet these convictions were but slight, and soon carried away, like the wind of temptation; though, for a little time, they were prompted by an acquaintance with some religious people at Rochdale, who used to meet together once a week, for religious exercises. But, upon his removal thence, very soon after, to Todmorden, though not far distant from Rochdale, instead of acting up to the good motions he had fell in his soul, and which had been encouraged by his pious acquaintance, he pursued a different course, and went no more among them. He conformed to the vain and thoughtless world; he followed all its stupid and trifling diversiems: and endeavored to satisfy his conscience with “doing his ministerial duly,” according to the common phrase, on a Sunday, without attending any farther, either to the improvement of his own mind by study, or to the improvement of his people, as an effect of his own. He was, in a word, what too many of the modern clerical profession are, an easy companion for easy men, who give themselves no trouble about their own souls, or about God, or any thing else but what the Leviathan is represented to be doing in the world, taking their pastivic therein. Give them the pleasures of the earth, if not of direct sin too, for a season: and the honor of Christ, and the salvation of sinners are those subordinate affairs, which may be taken care of, at any time, or no time, by any man, or by no man, just as they please. They comprehend no more of spiritual good, than the luxurious epicure, who said, “that he did not understand what great happiness there could be in heaven, where folks were to sit upon a large cloud through eternity, singing hallelujahs, and having nothing to eat or to drink.” There are thousands who would be ashamed perhaps to acknowledge the letters of the words, but who are living in the spirit of the worldliness they imply, from day to day. Mr. Grimshaw, to his compunction afterwards, was numbered too long amongst this ungodly fraternity. It was several years before he was enabled to emerge from the low debauchery of the times. However, it is said, he refrained as much as possible from gross swearing, unless in suitable company, and when he got drunk, would take care to sleep it off before he came nome. Oh what a scandal to religion are swearing, drinking, hunting, horseracing, gambling, and ungodly priests, and what a jest, and stumbling block, to the world!

ble servant of Christ, was minister: in his church, they had above one thousand communicants, and above six thou-About the year 1734, and in the twenty-sixih of Mr. Grimsliaw’s life, God was pleased to bring upon hiin an earnest concern for his own salvation, and consequently for that ol his tloek at Todmoiden. This immediately became visible by his reformation. He quiciily left all his diversions; his hunting, card-playing, fishing, and the like, and now began to catechize t)ie yoimg people, to preach up the absolute necessity of a strict and devout life; to visit his people, not in order to drink and be merry with them as before, but to exhort and press them to seek the salvation of their souls, and to enforce what he had delivered to them from the pulpit.

The Lord brought him to very strong and painful convictions of his own guilt, helplessness, and misery; by discovering to him what he did not suspect before, that his heart was deceitiul and desperately wicked; and, what was more afflicting still, that all his duties, labors, and goodness, could not procure for him pardon, or gain him a title to eternal life. Very painful apprehensions therefore now seized his mind, of what must become of him. But this was the work of the law upon his conscience, and the preparation of his soul for the gospel of peace. In this state of tru“ible he continued for some time, not daring to acquaint any with the distress he sutl’ered, lest they should report that he was either mad or melancholy. But by these lasting and deep convictions, being brought to a deep acquaintance with the corruptions of his own heart, and the knowledge of its sin by the law of God, enforced upon him by the Spirit of God, and being therefore made willing to receive salvation freely, and to consider himself humbly as a brand plucked out of the burning; the day of his consolation and knowledge of Christ, infinitely j)recious to his soul, graciously drew near. The Bible began now to appear quite a new book. He found the rich import of those Scriptures, which declare the sacrifice and righteousness of Christ to be the whole atonement and justification of a sinner before God; and which testify the remission of sins to believers on his name, and sanctification as the blessed efiect of this believing in growing evidence ol that remission. “I was now,” says he, “willing to renounce myself, with every degree of fancied merit and ability, and to embrace Christ only for my all in all. Oh what light and comfort did I now enjoy in my own soul, and what a taste of the pardoning love of God!”

As he was then taught of God in his own experience, so his preaching in the year 1742, began to be clear and profitable. He dwelt much in representing the nature and excellencies of christian faith, and salvation by Christ alone. All this time he was an entire stranger to serious persons, or to those faithful men who were the occasion under God of the revival of religion among us. He was also an entire stranger to their writings, except a single sermon upon Gal. iii. 2i, and a letter to the people of England, published by the Rev. Mr. Seagrave, in which he was surprised to find the nature, life, spirituality, and power of truth and doctrine, in a material point, to be the very same with what he now saw clearly in the word of God, and from which his peace had entirely flowed. Dr. Owen’s book on justification was also of great use to him about this time.

In the month of May, 1742, instructed in this manner, Mr. Grimshaw came to the people and church at Haworth, near Bradford, in Yorkshire, and very soon the good effects of his preaching became visible among a people ignorant and brutish, as the face of their country is wild and rugged. Many of his careless flock were brought into deep concern for the salvation of their souls, and were filled with peace and joy through believing. And as in ancient times, before preaching was debased by modern refinement, and alas! to such a cold and languid exercise, that generally one can scarce observe a decent attention to the minister in the pulpit; his people felt in their hearts a deep conviction of sin; and the whole congregation have been often seen in tears, on account of their numerous provocations against God, and under a sense of his goodness in yet sparing them and waiting to be gracious unto them. This lively, powerful manner of representing the truths of God, could not fail of

SAND hearers in the church-yard. At Leeds, the congregation consisted of above ten thousand souls. Thither he was

being much talked of, anJ bringing, out of curiosity, many hundreds to Haworth church; and there they received so much benefit by what they heard, that when the novelty was long over, the church continued to be full of people, many of whom came from afar, and this for twenty years together. Indeed, nothing but this will draw souls heartily together, or, according to the prophet’s language, as doves to their vmulows. Mere morality, derived from man’s ability, neither comes warm from the heart, nor goes warmly to it. With the trash of human attainments and human endeavors, all fallen, corrupt, feeble, and depraved, no soul living can be satisfied. When men preach these, to use the words of Milton,

“The sheep look up, but are not fed.”

It was the pure truth of the gospel, which brought men to reform from popery, and which only can produce true reformation at any time. It was this which hath drawn thousands from the church to various dissenters, where it hath been preached by then?; and it is the preaching of this alone, as we have abundant proof, that can fill our churches again.

Mr. Grimshaw was now too happy himself in the knowledge of Christ, to rest satisfied, without taking every method he thought likely to spread the knowledge of his God and Savior. And as some indigent people constantly make their want of better clothes to appear in, an excuse for not coming to church in the day time, when their want would be visible to the whole congregation; he contrived, for their sakes, a lecture on Sunday evenings, though he preached twice in the former part of the day. In which lecture, a chapter or a psalm, after the primitive custom of the christian church, was expounded. God was pleased to give great success to these attempts, which animated him still more to spend and be spent for Christ’s cause; so that the next year he began a method, which was continued by him ever after, of preaching in each of the four hamlets under his care, three times every month. By which means the old and infirm, who could not attend the church, had the truth of God brought to their houses; and many, who were so profane as to make the distance from the house of God a reason for almost never coming to it, were induced to hear, and at length received with joy the word of life.

By this time, the great attention and labor with which he instructed his own people, the circumspection and holiness of his conversation, and the lasting benefit which very many from the neighboring parishes had obtained, by attending his ministry; all concurred to bring upon him. many earnest entreaties to come to the houses of others who lived in the neighboring parishes, and to expound the word of God to souls as ignorant as they were themselves, before they had heard instruction from his lips. As the purest benevolence was the only motive to this request; so all, who knew Mr. Grimshaw, are assured, (and what others think or say matters not,) that nothing but love to the souls of men, and a desire of proving a blessing to them, engaged him to preach, as occasion offered, in other parishes. So that while he was one of the most diligent in overseeing, and providing abundantly for all in his own flock, he annually found opportunity of instructing nearly three hundred times, large companies, and sometimes large congregations besides. After he had preached for the first time in any place, he commonly thanked the person into whose house or barn he was received, and added: ‘I hope you will give me leave to come again.”

Mr. Grimshaw thus went on preaching ^feew, twenty, and often thirty times in the week, and that for fifteen years, or upwards, besides visiting the sick, and other occasional duties of his function. To one of his friends in a neighboring parish, whose wife had been sick, he thus apologized: “I am sorry that I have not been able to visit your wife; I have not wanted inclination, but time; for I have had thirty times to freach this week.” It is not easy to ascribe such unwearied diligence, and all amongst the poor, or at least very invited by the Rev. Mr. Wesley’s ministers, and also by the societies. And the Rev. Charles Wesley announced him from the pulpit; and by him he was introduced to the pulpit in Newcastle, where he preached four times, and twice in the fields. The season being too far advanced, he did not proceed

obscure people, to any motive but the real one. He thought his tongue should never be still in guilty silence, while he could speak to the honor ot’ that God, who had done so much for his soul. And while he saw sinners perishing for lack of knowledge, and no one breaking to them the bread of life, he was transported by love to pity them; and, this notwithstanding the sellish reluctance ne felt within, to give up his name to still greater reproach, as well as his time and strength to the work of the ministry. What a reflection should this afford to that laziness of heart, to call it by no worse a name, which thinks the service of God, after naming it in prayers before him a “perfect freedom,” to be a hard burden, and which courts easy duty and large fees, only for an indulgence to the flesh, and to hold up a sort of foolish and rmmeaning re.spect in the world.

During all this intense and persevering application to what was the whole delight of his heart, God was exceedingly uivorable to him; for, through the space of sixteen years, he was only once suspended from his labors by sickness, though he ventured in all weathers upon the bleak mountains, and used his body with less consideration, than a merciful man would use his beast. In this manner Mr. Grimshaw employed all his talents even to his last illness; and his labors were not in vain in the Lord. He saw an eflectual change take place in many of his flock; a deep sense of evil and good, and a striking restraint from the commission of sin, brought upon the parish in general. He saw the name of Jesus exalted, and many souls happy in the knowledge of him, and walking as becomes the gospel of Christ.

Mr. Grimshaw’s behavior throughout his last illness, was all of a piece with the last twenty years of his life. From the very first attack of his fever, he welcomed the approach of death. His intimate experimental knowledge of Christ, abolished all the reluctance which nature usually feels to a dissolution; and, triumphing in him, who is the resurrection and the life, he fell asleep in Jesus, April 7, 1763, in the iifty-fifth year of his age, and in the twenty-first of eminent usefulness in the church of Christ. His body was interred with what is more ennobling than all the pomp of solemn dirges, or of a royal funeral; for he was followed to the grave by a great multitude, with the most affectionate sighs, and with many tears; and who cannot still hear his much loved name without weeping for the guide of their souls, to whom each of them was dear as children to their father.

A funeral sermon was preached at St. Diuistan’s in the West, London, on the 17th of April, 1763, ten days after his decease, by the Rev. William Romaine, rector of St. Ann’s, Blackfriars, from Phil. i. 21. “For him to live was Christ, and to die was gain.”

A funeral sermon was also preached at Haworth church, by that excellent and faithful minister of Christ, the Rev. H. Venn.

A full account of Mr. Grimshaw can be seen in the “Sketch,” drawTi of him by Mr. Venn; which mentions several particulars, which are too extraordinary and too valuable to be buried in silence.

The following anecdote was related in a sermon preached at Surry chapel, London, Sept. 29, 1793, by the Rev. Mr. Bull, of Newport Pagnell.

When Mr. Whitefield was once preaching in Mr. Grimshaw’s church in Yorkshire, he took occasion to say in his discourse, that “He wa.s willing to hope in the judgment of charity, that most of his hearers were good people — converted people — and truly possessed of the grace of God.” Upon which Mr. Grimshaw, who was present rose up, and with an elevated voice, said, “No, no, sir, they are not half of them converted by the grace of God. Speak to them faithfully.” — “So let me be faithful to you” said Mr. Bull, “not mince the matter, and say, peace, peace, where there is no peace,”

to Scotland, but he returned to London, having preached thirty limes in Yorkshire; in (‘heshire and Lancashire ten. He was also at Sheffield and Nottingham. The congregations were mostly peaceal)le and attentive, only in one or two places was lie rudely treated; but this he regarded not, could he onJy win souls to Christ,

He came to London in November, and continued till February; during which period, besides laboring in his usual way, he occasionally assisted at West-street Chapel, preaching and administering the sacrament.

February 8th, 17.50. From Gloucester he writes thus: “Though I left London in a very weak condition, and the weather was bad, I came here on Friday evening, was strengthened to preach on Saturday, and likewise on Sunday evening, and twice the same day in the countrj’-, at the new house at Hampton.”

And again, from Bristol, February 12. “Since I wrote last, we have been favored both in Gloucester city, and in the country, with very pleasant and delightful seasons. I have preached above twenty times within these nine days; and though frequently exposed to rain and hail, am much better than when I left London.” From Bristol he went to Exeter and Plymouth. On the way he met with the Rev. Mr. Pearsal, an eminent dissenting minister at Taunton, and the Rev. Mr Darracott,*

* The Rev. Risdon Darracott was the son of a dissenting minister in the Isle of Purbeck in Dorsetshire, where he was born, February 1, 1717. He received his academical education at Northampton, under the care of the pious Dr. Doddridge, and began his ministerial course in 1738, at Penzance, in Cornwall. Here he continued little more than two years, being obliged, by the loss of large quantities of blood fi’om his stomach, to leave an affectionate people. Under this alarming aflliction, he spent about half a year among his Jriends in Devonshire, where his own father had lately been a fervent and useful preacher, and where he died at about the age of forty. Upon the death of the Rev. Mr. Berry, an aged and excellent minister of Christ at Wellington, in 1741, Mr. Darracott had a unanimous invitation to succeed him. He found the congregation small, and the number of communicants but twenty-eight. His ministrations drew a large concourse of hearers from the neighborhood, many of whom had never before made any profession of religion, and were at first brought to Wellington out of more curiosity. His meeting house was soon insutficient to contain the hearers, and was therefore enlarged; but after that, it was usual for many to be obliged to stand without the doors. In proportion to the number of his stated hearers, the Rev. Mr. Fawcett, who preached his funeral sermon, says, “He never knew any congregation which appeared to have so many instances of abiding religious impressions;” and be adds, “I have good reason to believe, that his ministry was owned to l!ie effectual conversion of many hundreds of souls.” In consequence of (his remarkable success, he left behind him more than tu-o hundred communicants. He fell asleep in Jesus, March 14, 1759, aged forty-two.

The night befoie he died, he said, “Oh what a good God have I, in and through Jesus Christ! I would praise him, but my lips cannot. Eternity will be too short to speak his praises.” The physician coming in, he said to him,” Oh what a mercy is it, to be interested in the atoning blood of Jesus! I come to the Lord as a vile sinner, trusting in the merits and precious blood of my at Wellington; both of whom he mentions with great respect. He preached at Plymouth twelve times in six days, and each time his hearers increased, as did the zeal of his friends; while the fury of his adversaries befjan to abate. He proceeded thence to the Land’s End, preaching at a great many places by the way.

We find him, by March 21, again at Exeter. “Invitations,” says he, ‘-are sent from several places, I want more tongues, more bodies, more souls, for the Lord Jesus. Had ten thousand, he should have them all.”

In April, he was in London, and at Portsmouth; and in May went to Ashby. He had a delightful interview with the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, Rev. Jaraos Hervey,* and others. But at Ashby, where it might have been least expected, there was a riot made before Lady Huntingdon’s house, during the preaching there: and in the evening, some people returning home, very narrowly escaped being murdered. The justice, upon information, ordered the offenders to l)e brought before him. “So that I hope,” says Mr. Whitefield, “it will be overruled for great good; and that the gospel, for the future, will have free course.”

Leaving Asliby, he preached at Radcliff church, Nottingham, and Sutton, with great success. “At Nottingham,” says he,” several came to me, inquiring. What they should do to he

saved 7 I preached there four times. One evening, Lord S

and several gentleman were present, and behaved with great

dear Redeemer. Oh grace! grace! free grace!” EQs last words were, “I am going from weeping friends to congratulating angels, and rejoicing saints iii glory! He is coming! Oh speed thy chariot wheels why are they so long in coming! I long to be gone.”

* Mr. Hervey thus wrote of his interview to a friend: “I have seen lately that most excellent minister of the ever blessed Jesus, Mr. Whitefield. I dined, supped, and spent the evening with him at Northampton, in company with Dr. Doddridge and two pious, ingenious clergymen of the Church of England, both of them known to the learned world by their valuable writings. And surely I never spent a more delightful evening, or saw one that seemed to make nearer approaches to the felicity of heaven. A gentleman of great worth and rank in the town invited us to his house, and gave us an elegant treat; but how mean were his pro’isions, how coarse his delicacies, compared with the fruit of my friend’s lips; they dropped as the honey comb, and were a well of life. Surely people do not know that amiable and exemplary man, or else, I caimot but think, instead of depreciating they would applaud and love him. For my part, I never beheld so fair a copy of our Lord, such a living image of the Savior, such exalted delight in God, “such enlarged benevolence to man, such a steady faith in the divine promises, and such a fervent zeal for the divine glory; and all this, without the least moroseness of humor, or extravagance of behavior; sweetened with the most engaging cheerfulness of temper, and regulated by all the sobriety of reason, and wisdom of scripture; insomuch that I cannot forbear applying the M-ise man’s encomium of an illustrious woman to this eminent minister of the everlasting gospel: ‘Many sons have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.’”

decency. Many thousands attended. Yesterday morning I

breakfasted with three dissenting ministers, at Mr. P s, who

told me that Lady P desired he would press me to preach

at the church. Yesterday in the afternoon I preached at Sutton, and this morning at Mansfield.” He then went to Rotherham and Sheffield; and at the end of May was at Leeds. He says, “methinks I am now got into another climate, where there are many of God’s people.” He next went to Manchester, and so on to Edinburgh, where he arrived July 16, having preached nearly one hundred times since he left London; and it is supposed to above one hundred thousand souls. “It is amazing,” he writes, “to see how people are prepared in places where I never was before. What shall I render to the Lord?”

At Edinburgh and Glasgow, in which places he spent the month of July, 1750, he was as usual, received with the most unfeigned tenderness and joy. preaching to great multitudes of serious and attentive people, which made him exert himself beyond his bodily strength. “By preaching always twice,” he says, “once thrice, and once four times in a day, I am quite weakened, but I hope to recrnit again. I am burning with a fever, and have a violent cold; but Christ’s presence makes me smile at pain; and the fu-e of his love burns up all fevers whatsoever.”

He left Edinburgh, April 3, and was soon much recovered by riding. At Berwick, one of the ministers sent him an offer of his pulpit, which many others around the town were also willing to do.

When returned to London, he preached often at West-street chapel. Mr. Hervey, at his request, came to town, and lodged in his house, in whose comjxmy he enjoyed much pleasure.

In the month of October, he again ranged about, as he expressed it, “to see who would believe the gospel report,” preaching at Plymouth, Chatham, Gloucester, Birmingham, Evesham, Wednesbury, and Nottingham. And was more than ordinarily successful at Chatham and Canterbury.

In London, he passed the winter with incessant labor, and with great success. He was a fortnight confined in his room, by a fever and inflammation of the lungs; but in December was able to preach again.

At the latter end of January, 1751, he rode post to Ashby, much alarmed at the news of Lady Huntingdon’s dangerous illness, and the afflictions with which her family was visited at that time. On the 29th he writes thus: — “Blessed be God, Lady Huntingdon is somewhat better. Entreat all our friends to pray for her. Her sister-in-law, Lady Frances Hastings, lies dead in the house. She was a retired christian, Uved silently, and died suddenly, without a groan. May my exit be like hers. Almost all the ftuiiily have been sick in their turns.”, JNTarch 5, he went again into Gloucestershire, and to Bristol, preaching in his way to Plymouth.

April 11, at Exeter, he wrote thus to Mr. Hervey: — “Some good I trust, is to be done this spring to many souls. This western circuit, I believe, has been blessed already. I have preached about forty times since I left London, and have been enabled several times to ride forty miles a day. I find this sensibly refreshes mc. I wish you could say so too. At Plymouth, we had sweet seasons; and on Tuesday last, I met with a young clergyman who was awaloned by my preaching seren years ago. He has been at Cambridge, and was ordained by the bishop of Exeter. He is followed much, and I suppose, will soon be reproached for his Master’s sake. I hope you find strength to proceed in your book.”

From Exeter he journeyed through Wales, and rode nearly fiive hundred miles, preaching twice a day; and then made his visit to Ireland, which he had intended for some time.