the newspapers; but, this kind of notice hurt his feelings. In a letter to a friend he expresses himself on the subject thus: "I suppose you have heard of my mighty deeds, falsely so called by the newspapers; for I find some back-friend has published abroad my preaching four times in a day; but I beseech Mr. Raikes, the printer, never to put me in his news again upon any such account, for it is quite contrary to my inclinations and positive orders." To his friends, however, he was not reserved in communicating either the extent of his labours, or the symptoms of their success. In another letter to the same person he writes, "Last week, save one, I preached ten times in different churches; and the last week, seven; and yesterday four times, and read prayers twice, though I slept not an hour the night before, which was spent in religious conversation, &c. God still works more and more by my unworthy ministry. Many youths here sincerely love our Lord Jesus Christ; and thousands, I hope, are quickened, strengthened, and confirmed by the word preached. Last Sunday (in St. Dunstan's) at six in the morning, when I gave my farewell, the whole church was drowned in tears: they wept and cried aloud, as a mother weepeth for her first-born. Since that, there is no end of persons coming and weeping, telling me what God has done for their souls: others again beg little books, and desire me to write their names in them. The time would fail me, were I to relate how many have been awakened, and how many pray for me. The great day will discover all !" This will be more minutely detailed in the next chapter.

Having thus traced the amazing effects of Whitefield's first sermons, it will now be interesting to examine their general character, and to ascertain what were the truths which thus arrested and aroused the public mind. Three of these successful sermons can, happily, be identified with these "times of refreshing ;" and they may be depended on, as specimens of both the letter and the spirit of his preaching, because they were printed from his own manuscripts: that " On Early Piety;" that "On Regeneration;" and that "On Intercession." Whoever will read these appeals, realizing the circumstances under which they were made, will hardly wonder at the effect produced by them;

the topics of the second and third, and the tone of all the three, are so different from the matter and manner of sermonizing, to which the public had been long accustomed. They do not surprise us at all; because, happily, neither the topics nor the tone of them are "strange things to our ears." Both were, however, novelties, even in the metropolis, at that time. When-where had an appeal like the following been made in London? "I beseech you, in love and compassion, to come to Jesus. Indeed, all I say is in love to your souls. And if I could be but an instrument of bringing you to Jesus, I should not envy but rejoice in your happiness, however much you were exalted. If I was to make up the last of the train of the companions of the blessed Jesus, it would rejoice me to see you above me in glory. I would willingly go to prison or to death for you, so I could but bring one soul from the devil's strong holds, into the salvation which is by Christ Jesus. Come then to Christ, every one that hears me this night. Come, come, my guilty brethren: I beseech you for your immortal souls' sake, for Christ's sake, come to Christ! Methinks I could speak till midnight unto you; I am full of love towards you. Would you have me go and tell my Master, that you will not come, and that I have spent my strength in vain? I cannot bear to carry such a message to him! I would not, indeed I would not, be a swift witness against you at the great day of account: but if you will refuse these gracious invitations, I must do it."

In this spirit (not very prevalent even now) Whitefield began his ministry. And there is a fascination as well as fervour in some of his early sermons. How bold and beautiful is the peroration of that on Intercession! Referring to the holy impatience of "the souls under the altar," for the coming of the kingdom of God, he exclaims, "And shall not we who are on earth, be often exercised in this divine employ with the glorious company of the spirits of just men made perfect? Since our happiness is so much to consist in the communion of saints, in the church triumphant above, shall we not frequently intercede for the church militant below; and earnestly beg, that we may be all one? To provoke you to this work and labour of love, remember, that it is the never-ceasing employment of

the holy and highly exalted Jesus himself: so that he who is constantly interceding for others, is doing that on earth, which the eternal Son of God is always doing in heaven. Imagine, therefore, when you are lifting up holy hands for one another, that you see the heavens opened, and the Son of God in all his glory, as the great High Priest of your salvation, pleading for you the all-sufficient merit of his sacrifice before the throne. Join your intercessions with His! The imagination will strengthen your faith, and excite a holy earnestness in your prayers."

CHAPTER II.

WHITEFIELD'S INTRODUCTION TO LONDON.

WHITEFIELD's ministry in London began at the Tower-an unlikely quarter for attraction or effect. The curate of the Tower, who had been his friend at college, having occasion to officiate in Hampshire for a season, invited him to supply during his absence. Sir John Philips also sanctioned the request, and joined in it. Little did either of these good men, and still less did Whitefield himself, foresee the remote, or even the immediate, consequences of this invitation. And it is well they did not! For had they foreseen Whitefield's splendid irregularities in Moorfields and Blackheath, or his spacious tabernacles in London, or even his moderate Calvinism, they would not have countenanced him. He himself, notwithstanding all his constitutional bravery and conscientious simplicity, would not have hazarded the experiment, had he suspected the result.

How little he did so, will be best told in his own words. "On Wednesday, August 4th, 1737, with fear and trembling I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London; and the Sunday following, in the afternoon, preached at Bishopsgate church. As I went up the pulpit stairs, almost all seemed to sneer at me, on account of my youth. But they soon grew serious in the time of my preaching; and after I came down, showed me great tokens of respect, blessed me as I passed, and made great inquiry who I was. one could answer; for I was quite a stranger: speedily through the crowd, returned to the having my name discovered."

The question no

and, by passing Tower without

"Here (at the Tower) I continued for the space of two months, reading prayers twice a week, catechising and preaching once, besides visiting the soldiers in the infirmary and barracks daily. I also read prayers every evening in Wapping chapel." (It was, no doubt, in going between the Tower and Wapping chapel, that his well known expression," Wapping sinners," was first forced upon him.) "I preached at Ludgate prison every Tuesday." (This also, together with his visits to the castle at Oxford, will account for the frequency of the forms of judicial trial and condemnation, in his sermons to the ungodly.) "God was pleased to give me favour in the eyes of the inhabitants of the Tower. The chapel was crowded on Lord's days. Religious friends from various parts of the town attended the word, and several young men on Lord's-day morning, under serious impressions, came to converse with me on the new birth."

So far all is pleasing; but there was nothing surprising marked Whitefield's first visit to London. That it made no great impression on himself, is evident from the perfect simplicity with which he records its close: "Having staid in London until Mr. B. came out of the country, I returned to my little charge at Oxford, and waited on my deaconship according to the measure of grace imparted to me." Even when he was invited to "a very profitable curacy" in London, and urged to accept it, he says, "I had no inclination to accept it. At Dummer I soon began to be as much delighted with the artless conversation of the poor illiterate people, as I had been formerly with the company of my Oxford friends; and frequently learnt as much by an afternoon's visit, as by a week's study."

It was therefore for the sake of Georgia, solely, that he came back to London. The metropolis was to Whitefield, then, merely the way to America. Accordingly, he did not seek for engagements, nor volunteer his services, on his arrival from Oxford. Indeed, he does not seem to have contemplated preaching. "I followed my usual practice of reading and praying over the word of God on my knees. Sweet was this retirement to my soul-but it was not of long continuance. Invitations were given me to preach at several places." Not,