CHRISTIAN LEADERS OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

  { PT.  2 } - They abhor everything like zeal in Christianity. They dislike everyone who turns the world upside down, who departs from old traditional ways, and who will not let the devil alone. Such people, no doubt, would tell us that the ministry of Whitefield only produced temporary excitement, that his preaching was commonplace rant, and that his character had nothing about it to be especially admired. I suppose that eighteen hundred years ago they would have said much the same about the apostle Paul. The question What good did Whitefield do? is one that I answer without the least hesitation. I believe that the direct good that he did to immortal souls was enormous. I will go further and say that I believe it is incalculable. Credible witnesses in England, Scotland, and America have placed on record their conviction that he was the means of converting thousands of people. Many, wherever he preached, were not merely pleased, excited, and fascinated, but were absolutely turned from

  { PT.  1 } - GEORGE WHITEFIELD THE MINISTRY              In my judgment, George Whitefield was so entirely first and formost among the English Reformers of the eighteenth century that I make no apology for offering some further information about him. The real amount of good he did, the distinctive character of his preaching, and the private character of the man are all points that deserve consideration. They are points, I might add, above which there is a vast amount of misconception. might be unavoidable and should not surprise us. The materials for forming a correct opinion about such a man as Whitefield are necessarily very spare. He did not write a book for the millions that achieved worldwide fame--like John Bunyan and his Pilgrim's Progress. He did not lead a crusade against an apostate church, with a nation at his back and princes on his side--like Martin Luther. He did not start a religious denomination that fastened its faith on his writings and carefully preserved his b

{ PT.  11 } - How brief--comparatively brief--has been my life compared to the vast labors that I see before me yet to be accomplished. But if I leave now, while so few care about heavenly things, the God of peace will surely visit you. After the sermon was over, Whitefield ate with a friend and then rode on to Newburyport, though greatly fatigued. Upon arriving there, he ate supper early and then went to bed. Tradition says that as he went upstairs with a lighted candle in his hand, he could not resist the inclination to turn around at the top of the stairs and speak to the friends who were assembled to meet him. As he spoke, the fire kindled within him, and before he could conclude, the candle that he held in has hand had actually burned down to the socket. He went to his bedroom, to come out no more alive. A violent fit of spasmodic asthma seized him soon after he got into bed, and before six o'clock the next morning, the great preacher was dead. If ever anyone was ready for his

  { PT.  10 } - On the morning of Saturday, September 29, the day before he died, Whitefield set out on horseback from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in order to fulfill an engagement to preach at Newburyport on Sunday. On the way, unfortunately, he was earnestly pleaded with to preach at a place called Exeter, and although feeling very ill, he did not have the heart to refuse. A friend remarked before he preached that he looked more uneasy than usual, and said to him, Sir, you are more fit to go to bed than to preach! To this Whitefield replied, True Sir. Then turning aside, he clasped his hands together, looked up, and said, Lord Jesus, I am weary in Your work, but not of Your work. If I have not yet finished my course, let me go and speak for You once more in the fields, seal Your truth, and come home to die. He than went and preached to a very great multitude in the fields from 2 CORINTHIANS  13:5 for about two hours. It was his last sermon, and was a fitting conclusion to his whole ca

  { PT.  9 } - This, it will be observed, made thirteen sermons a week! And all this time he was carrying on a large correspondence with people in almost every part of the world. It indeed seems astonishing that any human frame could so long endure the labors that Whitefield went through. It is no less amazing that his life was not cut short by violence, to which he was frequently exposed. However, he was immortal until his work was done. He died at last very suddenly at Newburyport,Massachusetts, on Sunday, September 29, 1770, at the comparatively early age of fifty-six. He was once married to a widow named Elizabeth James, of Abergavenny, Wales, who died before him. If we can judge from the little mention made of his wife in his letters, his marriage does not seem to have contributed much to his happiness. He left no children, but he left a name far better than that of sons and daughters. Never, perhaps, was there a man of whom it could be so truly said that he spent and was spent fo

  { PT.  8 } - When churches and chapels were both closed to him, or were too small to contain his hearers, he was ready and willing to preach in the open air. For thirty-one-years he labored in this way, always proclaiming the same glorious gospel, and always, as far as man's eye can judge, with immense effect. In one single Pentecost Sunday week, after preaching in Moorfields, Whitefield received one thousand letters from people to the Lord's table. In the thirty-four years of his ministry, it is calculated that he preached publicly eighteen thousand times. His traveling was impressive, especially when we consider the roads and means of transportation of his time. He was familiar with perils in the wilderness and perils in the sea ( 2  CORINTHIANS  11:26 ), if ever anyone was in modern times. He visited Scotland fourteen times, and was nowhere more acceptable or useful then he was in that Bible-loving country. He crossed the Atlantic back and forth seven times in miserable, s

  { PT.  7 } - The gospel proclaimed in the fields was listened to and eagerly received by hundreds who never dreamed of going to a place of worship. The cause of pure religion was advanced, and souls were plucked from that hand of Satan like brands from the burning. However, it was going much too fast for the Church of England of those days. The clergy, with a few honorable exceptions, entirely refused to support this strange preacher. In the true spirit of the dog in the manger,they neither liked to go after the semi-heathen masses of population themselves nor did they like anyone else to do the work for them. The consequence was that the sermons of Whitefield in the pulpits of the Church of England from this time almost entirely stopped. He loved the Church in which he had been ordained, he gloried in her Thirty-nine Articles of belief, and he used her Book of Common Prayer with pleasure--but the Church did not love him, and so lost the use of his services. The plain truth is that t