CHAPTER XXIX.

WHITEFIELD AND THE NOBILITY.

WHITEFIELD never sought the patronage of the great, nor ever employed it for any personal end. To the credit of his first noble friends, Lothian, Leven, and Rae, they sought his friendship because they admired his talents, and appreciated his character. They were won by the preaching which won the multitude; and when they wrote to him, he answered them just as he did any one else, who sought his counsel or prayers, courteously and faithfully. He paid them, indeed, the current compliments of his times: and if these ever amount to flattery in appearance, they are followed by warnings which no real flatterer would have dared to whisper. In his first letters to the Marquis of Lothian, he said, "You do well, my lord, to fear, lest your convictions should wear off. Your lordship is in a dangerous situation," in the world. "Come, then, and lay yourself at the feet of Jesus."—" As for praying in your family, I entreat you, my lord, not to neg-< lect it. You are bound to do it. Apply to Christ for strength to overcome your present fears. They are the effects of pride, or infidelity, or of both." These are not unfair specimens of Whitefield's correspondence with the Scotch nobles, who honoured him with their confidence. Upon some of the English noblemen, who were brought to hear him by Lady Huntingdon, his influence was equally great and good.

Amongst his friends were, also, "honourable women not a few." I wish I could say of his compliments to them, all that I have said of his general influence upon their "order: " but I cannot. I cannot even qualify, after long rejudging, the opinion I have given of his letters to them. True, they needed and deserved "strong consolation," in order to resist the strong temptations presented by a frivolous court, a witty peerage, and a learned bench, in favour of a formal religion. Nothing but "the joy of the Lord" could have sustained them in such a sphere. Whitefield judged well, therefore, in not plying the peeresses with the same warnings he addressed to

the peers. Happiness in religion was the best security for their holiness. They could not be laughed out of a good hope through grace. Wit and banter may make the fear of perishing seem a weakness or a fancy; but they cannot make hope, peace, or joy, seem absurd. Neither the rough gibes of Warburton, nor the polished sarcasms of Chesterfield and Bolingbroke, could touch the consciousness of peace in believing, or of enjoyment in secret prayer, in the hearts of those peeresses who had found, at the cross and the mercyseat, the happiness they had sought in vain from the world. Whitefield knew this, and ministered to their comfort. What I regret, therefore, is, that he mingled more compliment with consolation than was wise or seemly. Each of "the twelve manner" of ripe fruits on the tree of life, requires to be served up in its own "leaves," and needs no other garnishing.

But if Whitefield's letters to the peeresses were not always manly, his lectures to the "brilliant circle" at Lady Huntingdon's were evidently as faithful as they were eloquent. The well-known Countess of Suffolk found them so. Lady Guildford prevailed on Lady Huntingdon to admit this beauty to hear Whitefield. He, however, knew nothing of her presence. He drew his bow at a venture: but every arrow seemed aimed at her. She just managed to sit out the service, in silence; and when Whitefield retired, she flew into fury, abused Lady Huntingdon to her face, and denounced the sermon as a deliberate attack on herself. In vain Lady Betty Jermain tried to appease the beautiful fury, or to explain her mistake. In vain old Lady Bertie and the Duchess dowager of Ancaster commanded her silence. She maintained that she had been insulted. She was compelled, however, by her relatives who were present, to apologize to Lady Huntingdon. Having done this with a bad grace, she left to

return no more.

Horace Walpole, unwittingly, has borne testimony to the faithfulness of Whitefield, in the case of Earl Ferrers. "That impertinent fellow," Whitefield, he says, "told his enthusiasts in his sermons, that my lord's heart was stone." So it was, and "harder than the nether millstone." He treated Whitefield courteously; but evinced a reckless contempt for religion. Walpole's own account of Ferrers proves this.

It would hardly be worth while to notice this horrible affair, were it not for the sake of the striking contrast between Whitefield and Theophilus Lindsay, when they successively tried to

Her son

comfort Lady Huntingdon under her calamities. had imbibed the principles of Chesterfield and Bolingbroke; and her heart brooded in anguish upon his eternal prospects. The Lindsays suggested to her the possibility of a temporary hell. Whitefield visited and prayed for her wretched nephew, Ferrers; but spoke all the truth of his character, and planted no fictions upon his grave.

Horace Walpole again unwittingly bears testimony to the uniform consistency of Whitefield's creed and character. When the peace festival was celebrated at Ranelagh, some one asked in the clique of wits, (most likely himself,) "Has Whitefield recanted?" Lady Townshend replied, "O, no : he has only canted." Walpole thought this a happy hit::little dreaming it to be a compliment to a man, who might have had preferment at the time, if he would have recanted even his clerical irregularities. This is the original play upon the words, "cant" and "recant;" which have lately been so happily applied to an ex-patriot, by Lord John Russel.

The following anecdote of Whitefield was communicated by the Countess of Huntingdon to the late Barry, R. A.; and sent by him to me. I give it in his own words :-" Some ladies called one Saturday morning, to pay a visit to Lady Huntingdon, and, during the visit, her ladyship inquired of them if they had ever heard Mr. Whitefield preach? Upon being answered in the negative, she said, I wish you would hear him, he is to preach to-morrow evening,' at such a church or chapel, the name of which the writer forgets, nor is it material:-they promised her ladyship they would certainly attend. They were as good as their word; and, upon calling on the Monday morning on her ladyship, she anxiously inquired if they had heard Mr. Whitefield on the previous evening, and how they liked him?-The reply was, O my lady, of all the preachers we ever heard, he is the most strange and unaccountable. Among other preposterous things, (would your ladyship believe it,) he declared that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receive even the devil's castaways.-Now, my lady, did you ever hear of such a thing since you was born!' To which her ladyship made the following reply: There is something, I acknowledge, a little singular in the invitation, aud I do not recollect to have ever met with it before; but as Mr. Whitefield is below in the parlour, we 'll have him up, and let him.

answer for himself.' Upon his coming up into the drawingroom, Lady Huntingdon said, 'Mr. Whitefield, these ladies have been preferring a very heavy charge against you, and I thought it best that you should come up and defend yourself: -they say, that, in your sermon last evening, in speaking of the willingness of Jesus Christ to receive sinners, you expressed yourself in the following terms :-that so ready was Christ to receive sinners who came to him, that he was willing to receive even the devil's castaways!'-Mr. Whitefield immediately replied, I certainly, my lady, must plead guilty to the charge whether I did what was right or otherwise, your ladyship shall judge from the following circumstance.-Did your ladyship notice, about half an hour ago, a very modest single rap at the door? It was given by a poor, miserablelooking, aged female, who requested to speak with me.-I desired her to be shown into the parlour, when she accosted me in the following manner :- I believe, sir, you preached last evening, at such a chapel.'—Yes, I did. '—' Ah, sir! I was accidentally passing the door of that chapel, and hearing the voice of some one preaching, I did what I have never been in the habit of doing, I went in and one of the first things I heard you say, was, that Jesus Christ was so willing to receive sinners, that he did not object to receiving the devil's castaways. Now, sir, I have been on the town for many years, and am so worn out in his service, that I think I may with truth, be called one of the devil's castaways ?-Do you think, sir, that Jesus Christ would receive me? '—Mr. Whitefield assured her there was not a doubt of it, if she was but willing to go to him. From the sequel it appeared that it was the case; and that it ended in the sound conversion of this poor creature; and Lady Huntingdon was assured, from most respectable authority, that the woman left a very charming testimony behind her, that though her sins had been of a crimson hue, the atoning blood of Christ had washed them white

as snow."

I shall not soon forget the first use I made of this anecdote. It was handed to me just as I was about to attend the anniversary of the Female Penitentiary. I told it there, and was pleased, although in nowise surprised, to see tears flowing down the cheeks of the noble chairman, and of honourable women, not a few. I mention this fact, because it is only by such facts, that some minds can be won over to think well of Penitentiaries. I long questioned their policy. Even

when I became one of the secretaries of the Liverpool Female Penitentiary, I was not sure that I was doing right. But I soon knew better, when the correspondence of the institution with parents came before me. Indeed, I owe to the converts in that house of mercy, and especially to the late Betsy Kenyon, the relief of my own mind from the haunting suspicion, that it would be impossible to forget, even in heaven, what certain brands plucked from the burning had been. I found it impossible, however, to remember, even on earth, what that wonderful miracle of grace, and martyr of suffering had been, although I knew well her former horrible history. Then understood I the promise,-"They shall be as though God had not cast them off." Saints and angels will so resemble each other in the beauty of holiness, that there will be nothing to distinguish them, but the difference of their new song. I express, I am quite sure, the cherished recollections of many of the greatest and best in the land, in thus recording the hallowing influence of Betsy Kenyon's character and spirit. Her "wings were covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold." There ought to be, in every large town, a female mission, to seek out and bring home the outcasts.

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A female mission!" Yes;-the church of Christ flourished most when women "laboured" with Paul "in the gospel," Phil. iv. 3. He did not, indeed, suffer them to speak in the church; but he both employed them to speak out of it, and applauded their co-operation in spreading the gospel. He has emblazoned their names, equally with CLEMENT'S, "in the book of life," and in the New Testament. The other apostles also, and all the primitive churches, gratefully accept-⚫ ed and acknowledged female agency. That agency was prolonged in the Western church until the eleventh, and in the Eastern until the end of the twelfth century. The form of prayer used at the ordination of the deaconness is preserved in the "Apostolic Constitutions."

Are we wiser or stronger than the wise and apostolic master-builders of the church, that we can evangelize the world, without the co-operation which apostles welcomed, and martyrs honoured, and the fathers immortalized? (See Clem. Alexand. and Tertullian de Virginn.) True, ministers and missionaries have freer and fuller access now to all classes, than the apostles and evangelists. Neither the jealousies nor the restraints of the East exist in the West. What then?