Aristophanic Greek; and there will be some buffoonery whenever the latter is understood. He did not, however,

"Woo a grin where he should win a soul."

He often caused a smile, that he might create a tear: a hazardous, if not an unwarrantable, experiment in the pulpit. Rowland Hill often ventured upon it; but he did not approve of it. Indeed, he was often surprised as well as grieved, that he had created a laugh. He did not suspect that many of his phrases were ludicrous. I recollect once, when travelling with him, to inquire into the truth of certain sallies I had heard ascribed to him. He denied the whole of them; but, at the same time, he told me some that "were true," which to my Scotch taste, were even more extravagant than those he disclaimed. But enough of this: had Berridge been either fanatic or buffoon, Whitefield would not have called him "an angel of the churches indeed," much less employed him as his own substitute at Tottenham Court, where so many persons of both rank and talent attended.

At this time, Whitefield wished much to go into Scotland again; not that he had much hope of recovery, but he thought that a "desirable place to go to heaven from." He was not able to undertake the journey; he therefore tried the effect of bathing at Plymouth, and then of the air at Bristol. These recruited him a little, and "stirred up an ambition to be employed again;" but his first sermon, on his return to London, threw him back. He became exceedingly nervous; a kind of suffering to which he had formerly been a stranger. Alas! how many, like myself, will see unutterable emphasis in his simple account of this:- I now know what nervous disorders are!" Happy those who can say with him, "Blessed be God! they were contracted in His service; and I do not repent!"

In the autumn he went into Yorkshire, by gentle stages; not preaching, but "travelling in order to preach;" and his Yorkshire friends were considerate enough not to tempt him into the pulpit often. By the end of October, therefore, he could bear to ride "sixty miles a day in a post-chaise, quite well." On reaching Edinburgh, however, he became much worse. Silence, the bitter cup of continued silence," as he calls the medical prohibition against preaching, was now forced upon him; but with the assurance, from four of the

principal physicians of the city, that it would recover him. Accordingly he drunk it for a month, and then preached once on new-year's day. This encouraged him. His nerves also began to brace again, by riding; although he fell off one day, and pitched on his head. He merely says of this accident, "I had a violent fall upon my head; but was neither surprised nor hurt."

Having thus preached once without injury, and not being interdicted from preaching again,—in a week after, at Edinburgh, he caught at the prospect of resuming his "delightful work," with rapture. "Who knows-who knows?" he exclaims, "I may again see Plymouth!" He was able to return to London, and his first work there was to read all his letters from the German Protestants, and to consult with Ziegenhagan for their further relief. But whilst planning for that, he had to bestir himself again for Georgia. One of his agents had drawn upon him, and he was now pennyless, and very unequal to the task of begging. "How could you," he says to the agent, "draw on me for so large a sum as one hundred and forty-seven pounds? Lord, help me." The Bristol friends had not collected for the German sufferers, and he carried his case there. Its urgency roused him, and he preached four or five times a week "without hurt," and with great success. This wound up his spirit to its old pitch, and led him to look at the fields again, as his proper sphere. "How gladly," he exclaims, "would I bid adieu to ceiled houses and vaulted roofs ? Mounts are the best pulpits, and the heavens the best sounding-boards. Oh for power equal to my will! I would fly from pole to pole, publishing the glorious gospel."

On his return to London, he was soon overcome by cares and labour, and obliged to spend the month of June in Holland, in order to prepare himself for the dog-days at home. The visit had the desired effect. All his "old times revived again," on his return to England. But new troubles awaited him. Travelling was essential to his health, and injurious to his chapels he had, therefore, to devolve the management of them upon trustees, and to make the best arrangements he could for their supply. This he accomplished with great difficulty, and then started for Scotland; intending to sail from Greenock to Virginia.

On his way to the north, he wrote, in the intervals of public labour, his answer to Warburton's attack on Methodism :—

an account of which will be found in the chapter, "Whitefield and the Bishops." He intended it to be, in the event of his not seeing England again, “a parting testimony for the good old puritans and the free-grace dissenters; " because the bishop "had sadly maligned them." At Edinburgh he soon broke down again, and had to drink anew the bitter cup of silence for six weeks. It restored him, however, and he went in "brisk spirits" to embark for America.

CHAPTER XXIV.

WHITEFIELD'S INFLUENCE IN AMERICA.

SECOND PART.

IN June, 1763, Whitefield sailed from Scotland for Rapanach, in Virginia. The voyage was pleasant, but tedious. He was twelve weeks on the passage; but it did him good. The length of time wore out the painful impressions which had been created by his solicitude for the Tabernacle and Tottenham Court. The order and harmony on board, also added to the bracing and tranquillizing effect of the voyage. "I enjoyed," he says, "that quietness which I have in vain sought after for some years on shore." He had sailed "with but little hopes of further public usefulness," owing to his asthma: but after being six weeks at sea, he wrote to a friend, "Who knows but our latter end may yet increase?" He was, however, afraid of presuming, and added—“ If not in public usefulness, Lord Jesus, let it be in heart-holiness! I know who says, Amen. I add, Amen and Amen."

On his arrival, he found many Christian friends, of whom he had "never heard before," waiting to welcome him. They were the fruits of his former visit to Virginia; and the more welcome to him, because he was not very sure that he had won any souls upon the voyage. It was with great difficulty, however, that he preached to them; his breathing was so bad, although his general health was better. At Philadelphia, also, a still higher gratification awaited him: not less than "forty new-creature ministers, of various denominations," visited him; some of them " young and bright witnesses " for Christ. He heard, also, that sixteen students had been converted last year, at New Jersey college. This was medicine to him for every thing but his asthma; and even that he tried to forget for now the Lutherans in Philadelphia thronged to hear the friend of the German protestants. Accordingly, he preached twice a week, and with "remarkable" success amongst all ranks.

He wanted much to go to Georgia; but the physicians absolutely prohibited him, until he should gain strength. He therefore went to New Jersey college, to fan the flame he had kindled amongst the students; and had "four sweet seasons" there, which resembled old times. His spirits rose at the sight of the young soldiers, who were to fight when he fell. Thus cheered he went on to New-York. It was now winter; and "cold weather and a warm heart" always suited him best. He therefore was able to preach thrice a week, for seven weeks. "Such a flocking of all ranks," he says, "I never saw before at New-York." This flocking was not confined to the sanctuary. Many of the most respectable gentlemen and merchants went home with him after his sermons, to "hear something more of the kingdom of Christ." Such was his influence as a philanthropist also, that, although prejudices ran high against the Indians, because of a threatened insurrection in the south, he collected £120 for the Indian school at Lebanon. This, with the numerous conversions under his sermons, made him say, "We are trying to echo back from America the Gogunniant" of Wales. Thus he found" New-York new York indeed" to him.

Soon after, he visited the Indian school at Lebanon, then under Dr. Wheelock. The sight of this "promising nursery for future missionaries," inspired him. All his old plans for its extension expanded. I am inclined to think, from a full comparison of dates, that he arranged on the spot with Wheelock or Whitaker, the mission of Occuм to Britain, on behalf of the Indian seminary. It was certainly Whitefield's plans and pledges which brought Whitaker and Occum here; and it was his influence which won Lord Dartmouth to be the patron of the college at Hanover, which Wheelock very properly called "Dartmouth." But this subject will come up again.

The

In 1764, Whitefield came to Boston, and was "received with the usual warmth of affection." Again he saw there "the Redeemer's stately steps in the great congregation." Small-pox were, however, raging so in the city, that he deem. ed it prudent to move about in the adjacent towns. Bostonians bore with this for some weeks; but when they heard that he was likely to slip off to the south, they brought him back by force. They sent," he says, a gospel hueand-cry after me, and really brought me back." It was not so much to their credit, that they "begged earnestly for a six

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