George Whitefield E-Book

Arnold A. Dallimore

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 326

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2010

Beschreibung

God's accomplishments through George Whitefield are to this day virtually unparalleled. In an era when many ministers were timid and apologetic in their preaching, he preached the gospel with zeal and undaunted courage. In the wake of his fearless preaching, revival swept across the British Isles, and the Great Awakening transformed the American colonies. The previous two-volume work George Whitefield: The Life and Times of the Great Evangelist of the Eighteenth-Century Revival is now condensed into this single volume, filled with primary-source quotations from the eighteenth century, not only from Whitefield but also from prominent figures such as John and Charles Wesley, Benjamin Franklin, and William Cowper.

Leseprobe

George

W H I T E F I E L D

George Whitefield: God's Anointed Servant in the Great Revival of the Eighteenth Century. Adapted, rewritten and abridged from the two-volume work published previously under the title: George Whitefield: The Life and Times of the Great Evangelist of the Eighteen-Century Revival.

Copyright © 1990 by Arnold A. Dallimore

Published by Crossway

1300 Crescent Street Wheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided by USA copyright law.

First printing, 1990 Reprinted with new cover 2010

Cover design: Josh Dennis

Cover photo: The Bridgeman Art Library

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 89-81258

Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-1341-1

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. VP               19    18    17    16    15    14    13    12   11    10 1 3      12     11     1 0     9     8     7

For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God.

For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.

And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God.

For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.

And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:

That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of man, but in the power of God.

The Apostle Paul 1 Corinthians 1 and 2

Table of Contents

Introduction ix

1. Born and Born Again   11

2. Preaching That Startled the Nation   21

3. Missionary to Georgia   33

4. Into the Open Air   41

5. Into the Open Air in London   51

6. Doctrinal Differences and Sad Divisions   61

7. Doctrinal Convictions    67

8. The House of Mercy    73

9. Laboring in the Great Awakening    83

10. Whitefield's Darkest Hour    97

11. Scotland    103

12. Marriage    111

13. The Revival at Cambuslang    117

14. The First Organizing of Methodism    125

15. Meeting the Mob    133

16. Healing the Wounds and Completing the Work in America    141

17. "Let the Name of Whitefield Perish"    151

18. The Gospel to the Aristocracy in England 157

19. "Let Me Be But the Servant of All"    165

20. Associates    175

21. Building for God    183

22. "Weary in Thy Work, But Not Weary of It"    189

23. Whitefield Remembered 197

Notes    203

Select Bibliography    211

Index    217

If ever philanthropy burned in the human heart with pure and intense flame, embracing the whole family of man in the spirit of universal charity, it was in the heart of George Whitefield. 'He loved the world that hated him.' He had no preferences but in favour of the ignorant, the miserable and the poor. In their cause he shrank from no privation, and declined neither insult nor hostility. To such wrongs he opposed the weapons of an all-enduringmeekness and a love which would not be repulsed. The springs of his benevolence were inexhaustible and could not choose but flow.

Sir James Stephen Essays in Ecclesiastical Biography 1883

Introduction

Iam thankful for the reception accorded my two-volume work, George Whitefield: The Life and Times of the Great Evangelist of the Eighteenth-Century Revival. Although each volume of this work amounts to six hundred pages, it has had several printings and has been widely read. Readers in various countries have expressed their gratitude for the information and fascination these books provided. For instance, Dr. Cornelius Van Til of Princeton and Westminster Seminaries in reviewing Volume One stated,

Read this book. You may forget to talk to your wife (or husband); you may forget to go to work; but it's worth a few sacrifices.

Why do I go to such extremes? To talk like that is surely abnormal. Yes, it is. But I did get into an unusually abnormal state of mind when I read the book. Besides, I am even now, weeks later, still abnormal.

Notwithstanding the large circulation these books have received, many potential readers, lacking a realization of the interest they would find in them, have told themselves, "Two such large volumes would be too much for me." Accordingly I have condensed the two volumes into one of less than three hundred pages. This book, though brief and simple, reports many of the memorable and exciting matters of Whitefield's life, and I have endeavored to write in a style that I hope will prove abundantly interesting, even to many who are not in the habit of reading.

I trust, however, that readers of this one-volume work, gaining instruction and blessing from its pages, will be influenced to read the two-volume record of the life and times of George Whitefield, the greatest evangelist since the Apostle Paul.

Arnold A. Dallimore

Cottam, Ontario,

Canada, NOR 1B0

Many Whitefield biographers present his life as an enigma which cannot be explained. This is largely due to a failure to recognize the character of his boyhood environment. . . . Whitefield came from a clerical, educated and cultured ancestry.

Edwin Noah Hardy George Whitefield, the Matchless Soul-winner

1Born and Born Again

George Whitefield was born in 1714 in The Bell Inn at Gloucester. A three-story structure with a breadth of some two hundred feet, a busy dining room and tavern, it was the finest hostelry in all that part of England. Its Great Room was used for entertainments and the staging of plays, and several outstanding people were among its patrons.

Under the hand of Thomas Whitefield, George's father, The Bell prospered. The Poor Rate charged against him—an indicator of a man's income—was as high as that of anyone in the parish and twice as high as most.

Thomas and his wife Elizabeth had each been brought up in comfortable circumstances. For some years Thomas's father had lived retired on a country estate, and there Thomas had spent his boyhood. Elizabeth came from two respectable Bristol families, several of her relatives filling important civic offices, and the wills written by some reveal that they were very well off.

The Whitefields saw not only their business prosper, but their family too. There were born to them first five boys, then a girl, and finally the boy they named "George." The home was of an upper-middle class character, and the family was among Gloucester's more prominent citizens.

When George was a child of two, however, his father passed away. His mother took over the management of the Inn, and the business continued to prosper. The Poor Rate that she paid remained at its high level.

Whitefield's first biographer, Dr. Gillies of Glasgow, says: "He was regarded by his mother with a peculiar tenderness, and educated with more than ordinary care." After being put to school at an early age, he attended a school known as "The College," associated with Gloucester Cathedral. At the age of twelve he was enrolled at the school attached to the Whitefields' parish church, St Mary de Crypt. There he first revealed a native eloquence and was chosen to make speeches before the City Council when it visited the school.

What kind of boy was George Whitefield? We have some knowledge of his boyhood from an Account that he wrote later, in which he describes his early years. Like John Bunyan and several other outstanding Christians, he undoubtedly exaggerates his tendencies towards evil. Its opening paragraphs read:

I can truly say I was brutish from my mother's womb. Lying, filthy talking, and foolish jesting I was much addicted to. Sometimes I used to curse, if not swear. Stealing from my mother I thought no theft at all. Numbers of Sabbaths have I broken, and generally used to behave myself very irreverently in God's sanctuary. Much money have I spent in plays. Cards and reading romances were my heart's delight. Often have I joined with others in playing roguish tricks.1

Yet although he thus speaks, he also testifies:

But such was the free grace of God to me, that though corruption worked so strongly in my soul, yet I can recollect very early movings of the blessed Spirit upon my heart.... I had some early convictions of sin, and once, when some persons made it their business to tease me, I immediately retired to my room, and kneeling down with many tears, prayed.... Part of the money I used to steal from my parent I gave to the poor, and some books I privately took from others, were books of devotion.2

As to his actual behavior one must conclude that Whitefield was no better and no worse than his playmates.

He tells us that he used to run into the Independent Meeting House while the service was in progress and shout, "Old Cole! Old Cole!"—the name of the pastor. But when asked by one of the congregation what business he would undertake, he replied "A minister, but I'll take care not to tell stories in the pulpit like old Cole!" He also says, "I was always very fond of being a clergyman, and used to imitate the ministers reading prayers." Thus the intention to become a minister early played a part in his life.

Several of his father's forebears had attended Oxford University and had spent their lives as priests of the Church of England.3 George's mother evidently had this prospect in mind for him, and he says, "My mother was very careful of my education, and always kept me in my tender years from intermeddling in the least with the public business." It is evident that although her other children might assist in the Inn, this she considered not good enough for George. He was to attend the University, and it was her hope that he would enter the ministry.

But young Whitefield had dreams of a different nature. His schoolmaster frequently wrote plays, and because of George's dramatic tendency these often gave scope for his special ability. Indeed, George possessed a passion for the activity of the stage, and he says, "I was very fond of reading plays, and have kept myself from school for days together to prepare myself for acting them." He evidently became so engrossed on occasion with practicing not only his own part, but the other parts as well, that he would not even go to school. He would remain home all day, and the next two or three days too, dead to things around him, but wondrously alive to the world he had created in his own imagination.

After Mrs. Whitefield had been a widow for eight years, she remarried. Her new husband, Capel Longden, came from a good family and operated a hardware business not far from The Bell. George said, however, "It proved to be what the world would call an unhappy match as for temporals." Longden appears to have been an unpleasant personality; he was able to push himself into the management of the Inn, and with his coming the business started to suffer. The decline continued till with the passing of three or four years it showed a marked deterioration, and the living standards of the Whitefield family were sorely lowered.

Accordingly by the time George was fifteen, he felt his mother's circumstances would no longer allow her to send him to Oxford, and he told her he wanted to leave school and assist in the Inn. At first she refused, but later, with much reluctance, she submitted. He left school, attending for only one subject. "I put on my blue apron," he stated, "and became professed and common drawer for a year and a half."4

Yet he found this life very distasteful. "Seeing the boys go by to school," he declared, "has often cut me to the heart." He still, however, held to the hope of attending Oxford, and anticipating the day he would be a minister he composed sermons in the evenings.

This hope took on a new prospect of being fulfilled when a young man told Mrs. Longden he had attended the University at little cost by entering as a servitor. Overjoyed at the possibility thus opened up she cried, "This will do for my son! George, will you go to Oxford?" And he, equally delighted, immediately responded, "With all my heart I will!" And so it was settled. Like his ancestors, George would enter the University!

He now returned to school and labored diligently at his studies. He also entered into a religious manner of life, guarded his thoughts, words and actions, and during Lent fasted for thirty-six hours. He read much in classical works, studied the Greek New Testament, and attended public worship twice a day.

After being in school again for two years, in the Fall of 1732 Whitefield entered Pembroke College, Oxford. As a servitor, in exchange for tuition and board he did menial tasks for the sons of well-to-do gentlemen. It was a humiliating situation, but he performed his duties with fervor and stated that being used to a public house made him all the more capable at this work.

Before he left Gloucester his brothers had assured him that he would forget his religious practices once he reached Oxford. He indeed soon met pressures to do so, and he tells us,

I had not been long at the University, before I found the benefit of the foundation I had laid in the country for a holy life. I was quickly solicited to join in their excess of riot with several who lay in the same room. God . . . gave me grace to withstand them; and once in particular, it being cold, my limbs were so benumbed by sitting alone in my study, because I would not go out amongst them, that I could scarcely sleep all night. But I soon found the benefit of not yielding: for when they perceived they could not prevail, they let me alone as a singular odd fellow.5

It was but a short time, however, before Whitefield had kindred company. There was then a group of religiously earnest students in the University, and such terms as "Bible Moths," "Bible Bigots," "Sacramentarians," "Methodists," and "the "Holy Club" were applied to them. These individuals practiced early rising and lengthy devotions, and they strove for a self-discipline which allowed no moment to be wasted throughout the day They partook of the Sacrament every Sunday, fasted each Wednesday and Friday, and regularly visited Oxford's two prisons to relieve the needs of the inmates. They were all members of the Church of England and believed that these good works ministered towards the salvation of their souls.

Because he was merely a servitor, Whitefield was not allowed to introduce himself to these men. But when he had been in Oxford almost a year, one of them, Charles Wesley, learning that Whitefield too was religiously earnest, invited him to breakfast. This proved the beginning of an historic friendship and later in life Charles said of it:

Can I the memorable day forget,

When first we by Divine appointment met?

Where undisturbed the thoughtful student roves

In search of truth, through academic groves:

A modest pensive youth, who mused alone,

Industrious the frequented path to shun,

An Israelite without disguise or art,

I saw, I loved, and clasped him to my heart,

A stranger as my bosom friend caress'd,

And unawares received an angel-guest .6

This description by Charles Wesley deserves our attention. Whitefield was now nineteen and had fair hair and a very fair countenance, and these features were the striking characteristic of his appearance. Moreover, Charles's words "a modest pensive youth" and "without disguise or art" depict one who was guileless and unaffected. Charles also speaks of him as "an angel-guest." Although Whitefield had been born with a slight squint in one eye, this in no way prevented people from thinking of him as possessing an angelic quality. Indeed, as we shall see, people soon began to refer to him as "the Seraph."

Charles introduced Whitefield to his brother John and to the other members of the Holy Club. Although Whitefield was at first reticent about entering among these men, he soon overcame his fears and before long joined in their activities with fervor. He said of them,

Never did persons strive more earnestly to enter in at the strait gate. They kept their bodies under, even to an extreme. They were dead to the world, and willing to be accounted as the dung and offscouring of all things, so that they might win Christ. Their hearts glowed with the love of God and they never prospered so much in the inner man as when they had all manner of evil spoken against them.... I now began, like them, to live by rule, and to pick up the very fragments of my time, that not a moment of it might be lost. Whether I ate or drank, or whatsoever I did, I endeavoured to do all to the glory of God.... I left no means unused which I thought would lead me nearer to Jesus Christ.7

The Holy Club was at that time little known outside of the University. It was composed of some eight or nine men who met together to assist one another in their academic work and in the strict regime they had set for themselves. John Wesley was their moderator, and his strong presence gave force to their purposes and stimulated the other members in their self-discipline.

During his entire course at Oxford, with the exception of the first eleven months, Whitefield was under the strong influence of the Holy Club.

In his academic work he proved an able student, and his concept of the necessity of diligence is manifest in his statement about the practices of others: "It has often grieved my soul to see so many young students spending their substance in extravagant living, and thereby entirely unfitting themselves for the prosecution of their studies." While many a student wasted his days in frivolity, Whitefield practiced the Holy Club's severe discipline, planning each hour and forcing himself to do as he planned, "that not a moment be lost." His personality became cast in this mold of self-mastery, and in our study of his life a recognition of these habits will help us to understand the otherwise inexplicable immensity of his accomplishments.

While under this influence Whitefield read a book which suddenly altered his entire outlook. It was written by a Scotsman, Henry Scougal, and was entitled The Life of God in the Soul of Man. Whitefield knew nothing as yet of the miracle of "the new birth"; he assumed that by performing good works he would place himself on the pathway to Heaven.This book convinced him, however, that all such assumptions were utterly false. The discovery filled him with concern, and he wrote that by it,

God showed me that I must be born again, or be damned! I learned that a man may go to church, say prayers, receive the sacrament, and yet not be a Christian. . . .

Shall I burn this book? Shall I throw it down? Or shall I search it? I did search it, and holding the book in my hand I thus addressed the God of heaven and earth: 'Lord, if I am not a Christian, or if not a real one, for Jesus Christ's sake show me what Christianity is, that I may not be damned at last!'

God soon showed me, for in reading a few lines further, that 'true Christianity is a union of the soul with God, and Christ formed within us,' a ray of divine light was instantaneously darted into my soul, and from that moment, and not till then, did I know I must become a new creature.8

Aroused by the solemn realization that he "must be born again," Whitefield began a search for "the life of God" which Scougal stated must be placed within his soul.

Amidst his fears of being eternally lost, he became subject to strange and terrible emotions. He stated,

My comforts were soon withdrawn, and a horrible fearfulness and dread permitted to overwhelm my soul. One morning in particular . . . I felt an unusual impression and weight upon my chest, attended with inward darkness. . . .

God only knows how many nights I have lain upon my bed groaning under the weight I felt, and bidding Satan depart from me. . . . Whole days and weeks have I spent in lying prostrate on the ground. . . .9

When the bearing of these difficulties brought no experience of "the life of God," Whitefield undertook still greater self-denial. He left off eating such things as fruits and sweets, and wore a patched gown and dirty shoes. He adopted the customs of a German cult, the Quietists, talking very little and wondering if he should talk at all. Under this burdening of his mind his academic work began to suffer, and his tutor thought he might be going mad.

But Whitefield went further in his efforts. For instance, he says concerning one attempt, "After supper I went into Christ Church Walk, and continued in silent prayer under one of the trees for near two hours, sometimes lying flat on my face. . . . The night being stormy I had great reluctance against staying out so long in the cold."

Still finding only failure in all these efforts, he decided the only other thing he could give up was his association with the Holy Club. "This was a sore trial," he declared, "but rather than not be, as I fancied, Christ's disciple, I resolved to renounce them, though dear to me as my own soul."

Whitefield had been undergoing these strivings since the Autumn of 1734, and with the approach of Lent in the Spring of 1735 matters became still worse. He determined that throughout the six weeks of the holy season he would allow himself little except coarse bread and sage tea without sugar. Though burdened in mind, dangerously weakened in body, unable to do his studies, praying "with strong cryings and tears" and constantly reading his Greek New Testament he pressed into his Lenten devotions with increased zeal.

By the Passion Week, however, he found himself too feeble even to creep upstairs. His physician confined him to bed, and he lay there for seven weeks. Despite his weakened condition he wrote a list of his sins, both past and present, and confessed them before God morning and evening every day. But with all his efforts he obtained no "life of God" within his soul.

But now, when there was nothing else that Whitefield could do, God revealed Himself in grace and granted Whitefield that which he had learned could never be earned. In utter desperation and in rejection of all self-trust, he cast himself on the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, and a ray of faith, granted him from above, assured him he would not be cast out. There, as George Whitefield lay on his sickbed in the dormitory of Pembroke College, or perhaps as he knelt in one of Oxford's open fields, God placed divine life within his soul—life that was holy and everlasting—"the life of God in the soul of man." Whitefield testified concerning this experience:

God was pleased to remove the heavy load, to enable me to lay hold of his dear Son by a living faith, and by giving me the Spirit of adoption, to seal me, even to the day of everlasting redemption.

O! with what joy—joy unspeakable—even joy that was full of and big with glory, was my soul filled when the weight of sin went off, and an abiding sense of the love of God broke in upon my disconsolate soul! Surely it was a day to be had in everlasting remembrance. My joys were like a springtide and overflowed the banks.10

Not long before his death, looking back upon this life-transforming event Whitefield declared, "I know the place: it may be superstitious, perhaps, but whenever I go to Oxford I cannot help running to that place where Jesus Christ first revealed himself to me, and gave me the new birth."

During the months ofWhitefield's first coming before the world, the church walls reeked wherever he had been announced. Of such popularity there had not been an example, either in the Church or out of it.

Isaac Taylor Wesley and Methodism

2Preaching That Startled the Nation 

Whitefield's conversion had taken place a few weeks after Easter, 1735. He was twenty years old.

His joy was such that he could not contain it. "I fell a writing," he says, "to all my brethren and to my sister, and talked to the students as they came into my room." The gloom was entirely gone from his life. He saw before him the boundless possibilities of growth in Christ, and with glad enthusiasm he leaped to enter into them.

But the months of strain had so undermined his health that it was necessary for him to return to Gloucester to recuperate. He arrived there unwell and penniless, but Gabriel Harris, the mayor of the city, with his wife and son, welcomed him into their home and showed him constant kindness during the months he was with them.

Despite the weakness in his health, he was full of vigor in his spirit. Everything about him seemed new. He found, for instance, a new delight in reading the Bible.

My mind being now more open and enlarged, I began to read the Holy Scriptures upon my knees.... This proved meat indeed and drink indeed to my soul. I daily received fresh life, light and power from above.1

Prayer now became a rich joy. He states:

Oh, what sweet communion had I daily vouchsafed to me with God in prayer. How often have I been carried out beyond myself when sweetly meditating in the fields! How assuredly have I felt that Christ dwelt in me and I in him. And how did I daily walk in the comforts of the Holy Ghost and was edified and refreshed in the multitude of peace.2

Whitefield also sought to "grow in grace and in knowledge" through his reading. He made use of several works of the Reformers and the Puritans, and these books served towards giving him a solid doctrinal understanding. He especially wanted to own Matthew Henry's Commentary, but since he was too poor to purchase it, Gabriel Harris, a book dealer, let him take it and pay for it later. This set became his beloved companion, and he used it constantly.

We can visualize him at 5 in the morning in his room over Harris's bookstore. He is on his knees with his Bible, his Greek Testament, and a volume of Matthew Henry spread out before him. With intense concentration he reads a portion in English, studies its words and tenses in the Greek, and then considers Matthew Henry's exposition of the whole. Finally comes his unique practice of "praying over every line and every word" in both the English and the Greek, feasting his mind and his heart upon it till its essential meaning has become a part of his very person. When we shortly see him preaching forty and more hours per week with virtually no time whatsoever for preparation, we may look back upon these days and recognize that he was then laying up a store of knowledge on which he was able to draw amidst the tumult and haste of that later ministry.

Moreover, moved by an increasing zeal, Whitefield witnessed to men and women around him. He says, "God made me instrumental to awaken several young people who soon formed themselves into a little Society and had quickly the honour of being despised at Gloucester as we had been at Oxford." This was an historically important event, for this group at Gloucester was the first Methodist Society in the permanent sense of the word, and it remained a unit of Whitefield's work throughout his life. Numerous further Societies, raised by Whitefield, John and Charles Wesley, and several other workers, were to follow, but this was the first.

Charles Wesley described Whitefield's zeal, saying,

He now begins from every weight set free

To make full trial of his ministry;

Breaks forth on every side and runs and flies,

Like kindling flames that from the stubble rise;

Where 'er the ministerial Spirit leads,

From house to house the heavenly fire he spreads;

Ranges through all the city-lanes and streets,

And seizes every prodigal he meets.3

Of course such zeal aroused bitter opposition on the part of some persons, but it caused excessive admiration in numerous others. People began to assert that so fervent a youth must enter the ministry, and they urged that he apply for ordination right away.

Although since boyhood Whitefield had entertained the idea that he would one day become a minister, now that he truly knew God, he was filled with a sense of dread concerning the spiritual responsibility that office entailed. He stated,

God alone knows how deep a concern entering the ministry and preaching was to me. I have prayed a thousand times, till the sweat has dropped from my face like rain, that God . .. would not let me enter the Church till he called me and thrust me into his work. I remember once in Gloucester, I know the room, I look up at the window when I am there; I know the bedside and the floor upon which I have lain prostrate. I have said, Lord, I cannot go; I shall be puffed up with pride and fall into the snare of the devil.4

He prayed that if he was to enter the ministry, God would further indicate it by supplying the financial means for him to return to Oxford. And from one source after another money came, insomuch that when he had been in Gloucester nine months he went back to the University. His health much improved, he soon completed his course and graduated with the Bachelor's degree.

There now came upon him increasingly the conviction that God was indeed calling him to the ministry. If he had once thought of this undertaking as a mere profession, that concept was now entirely gone. He knew the ministry was a holy labor that a man might truly enter only at the clear call of God. Nevertheless, he was ready to yield all, to give himself completely to God, and he stated:

It is true I have a difficult task, but God is all-sufficient, to whose almighty protection I humbly commit myself. I give to Him my soul and body to be disposed and worn out in His labours as He shall think meet. I do hence resolve, by His assistance ... to lead a stricter life than ever, to give myself to prayer and the study of the Scriptures. . . . God give me my health, if it be His blessed will.... I give myself wholly to Him!5

Willing now to seek ordination, he returned to Gloucester and applied to the bishop, Dr. Benson. Dr. Benson was one of England's better prelates, and recognizing both Whitefield's ability and his extraordinary earnestness despite his being but twenty-one, he agreed to ordain him.

Although Whitefield still greatly feared the spiritual responsibility of the ministry, he was ordained. The event took place on June 20, 1736 in the magnificent Gloucester Cathedral. He stated: "I attempted to behave myself with unaffected devotion, suitable to the greatness of the office I was to undertake."

He had addressed various small groups, but in keeping with Church of England custom Whitefield had not yet preached. Now that he was in "Holy Orders" he was free to do so, and in a letter to a friend he reported:

Last Sunday .. . I preached my first sermon, in the church of St Mary de Crypt, where I was baptized. . . . Curiosity drew a large congregation. The sight at first a little awed me, but I was comforted with a heartfelt sense of the divine presence and soon found the unspeakable advantage of having been accustomed to speaking when a boy at school, and of exhorting and teaching the prisoners and poor people whilst at the University. By these means I was kept from being daunted over-much.

As I proceeded I perceived the fire kindled, till at last, though so young and amidst a crowd of those who knew me in my infant childish days, I trust I was enabled to speak with some degree of Gospel authority. Some few mocked, but most for the present seemed struck, and I have since heard that a complaint has been made to the Bishop that I drove fifteen mad the first sermon. The worthy Prelate . . . wished that the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday.6

Such was the effect of Whitefield's first sermon on his hearers, but what, we must ask, was the effect on the young preacher himself? We may be sure it made him conscious he possessed marvelous powers of public address, and he would hardly have been human had he not realized that such abilities could lift him to great prominence and could provide him with the multiple profits arising from success.

But he had not the slightest desire to gain human fame or material wealth. His aims are manifest in several statements he made during those days. For example, his comment, "All I can say is I look for perpetual conflicts and struggles in this life, and I hope for no other peace, only a cross, while on this side of eternity"7 demonstrates his attitude.

A host of people, however, were continually expressing their admiration. "The people grow," he stated, "too, too fond of me. It is time to be going." Accordingly, on the third day after the triumph of his first sermon he turned from the adulation of Gloucester and set out for the University, determined "to be first a saint and then a scholar at Oxford."

He immediately became the leader of the Holy Club, giving guidance to their program of assisting one another in their studies and to their charitable activities. A wealthy baronet, Sir John Philips, recognizing the work Whitefield was doing, offered to provide him with £30 a year as long as he remained at the University. Whitefield proceeded with studies towards his Master's degree, and declared, "I began to be more than content in my present life and had thoughts of staying at the University for some years."

Whitefield was at Oxford merely a few weeks, however, before he was asked to supply the place of a friend who was the minister at the Chapel of the Tower of London. Although he felt himself unworthy to preach and had never before been in London, he accepted the invitation. Of his first service in the city he wrote, "Almost all seemed to sneer at me on account of my youth. But they soon grew serious and exceedingly attentive, and after I came down showed me great tokens of respect." His ministry at the Tower lasted for two months, and among his hearers there were several young apprentices and certain of the titled persons of London, drawn, he says, by his preaching of "the new birth."

He returned to Oxford, but in no time was invited to supply at the village of Dummer. While he was there, he made a decision which greatly affected the rest of his life: he decided to become a missionary to Georgia.

Georgia had been founded by a philanthropical Englishman, Colonel Oglethorpe. He intended it especially as a place where persons released from debtors' prisons could be resettled and also in which Europeans who had suffered Romanist persecutions might find refuge. Among the party that had sailed for the Colony in 1735 were John and Charles Wesley. The lives of these brothers were remarkable for their firm discipline, and they felt that by enduring the privations to be met in foreign missionary labors they would add to the possibility of saving their own souls.

But Charles, since he possessed a sensitive, poetic nature, could not long bear the trials of the new land, and before seven months had passed he left for home. John, feeling his need of assistance, wrote to Whitefield and urged him to come and help.

Although Whitefield was so happy in his life at Oxford, he carefully considered John's request. He felt he was not yet ready to bear the responsibility of ministering in England and that a period in the Colony would provide him with valuable experience. He also assumed that the ocean voyage, supposedly so harmful to one's health, might actually prove beneficial to his not-too-robust condition. Finally, his stay there would not need to be permanent; since ordination in the Church of England is in two stages—first that of a deacon and then that of a priest—it would be necessary for him to return to England to undergo the second rite.

His decision was in no sense an impulsive one. "When these things were thoroughly weighed," said Whitefield, "I at length resolved to embark for Georgia."

Having made this decision, Whitefield intended to leave for America without delay. But he would find himself detained in England for almost a year, and during that time he would be thrust into a ministry of such a nature that it virtually startled the nation.

He went to Bristol to say farewell, but after preaching on a Sunday people clamored for him to preach every day in the week. Churches immediately became crowded, with many turned away for lack of room. People seeking spiritual advice sought him out constantly at his lodgings, and large offers were made in the hope of enticing him to remain in Bristol.

After four weeks of this ministry, he hastened up to London. But there he learned that he was not to sail until Colonel Oglethorpe himself was also ready to depart.

While waiting for the Colonel, he accepted an invitation to preach at Stonehouse in Gloucestershire. He was there when the Spring in all its glory was coming to the Cotswold countryside, and the heart of Whitefield, alive with a perennial springtime, was moved to spiritual ecstasy.

"Sometimes as I was walking," he wrote, "my soul would make such sallies as though it would go out of my body. At other times I would be so overpowered with a sense of God's Infinite Majesty that I would be compelled to throw myself on the ground and offer my soul as a blank in his hands, to write on it what he pleased."8

Whitefield left at Stonehouse the manuscript of his farewell sermon. This sermon, based on Romans 8:30, reveals that a theological system was already forming in his mind. It was the system long referred to as "Calvinism," but which he preferred to term "the doctrines of grace."