Notes:
Sermon 53: On the Death of George Whitefield
On its face, this is scarcely more than a heartfelt tribute from one great evangelist to another, a eulogy for a brother minister fallen before his time in a splendid career. Certainly, it was thus intended and thus may be read But if one notices a certain formality in its tone or any lack of fervency, an understanding of its peculiar circumstances could be helpful. Actually, this sermon was the epilogue to a complex history of friendly rivalry and open conflict that would have been vivid in the memories of its first hearers and readers. This history has yet to be explored in sufficient depth, despite the massive but partisan biographical studies of Seymour, Countess of Huntingdon, and Tyerman’s twin ‘Lives’ of John Wesley (3 vols.) and George Whitefield (2 vols.). But it was a more decisive influence in the course of the Evangelical Revival than has been fully realized.
Its occasion was not only solemn; it was downright awkward, and called for all the diplomacy and aplomb that Wesley could muster. Three months before (August 7-10, 1770), Wesley and his ‘Conference’ had issued a public warning to all Methodists who ‘had leaned too much toward Calvinism’. This had given huge offence to Whitefield’s closest friends and sponsors—the Countess of Huntingdon and her ‘Connexion’. Even so, they had dutifully complied with Whitefield’s expressed desire that Wesley be invited to preach his funeral sermon; and Wesley had accepted. Behind this lies a fascinating story, some parts of which bear directly upon an understanding of the sermon itself.
George Whitefield, close on his eighteenth birthday, had come up to Oxford in 1732 from his lowly origins in Gloucester to become a humble ‘servitor’ at Pembroke College, across St. Aldate’s Street from lordly Christ Church. He soon heard about ‘the Methodists’ and admired them at a distance, but was not admitted to ‘the Holy Club’ until the winter of 1735. Thus, he was too young to be included in the Georgia expedition (and he was also not yet ordained). Instead, he spent a year of informal ministry in and around Gloucester and Bristol, experienced his ‘new birth’ long before the Wesleys, and was ordained deacon by Bishop Martin Benson in Gloucester Cathedral, June 20, 1736. Personally 02:326diffident and self-deprecating, he discovered an extraordinary talent for dramatic preaching, and quickly became the most popular preacher in England, with nine published sermons to his credit (one on ‘New Birth’, another on ‘The Almost Christian’, and a third on ‘Justification by Faith’), all before his twenty-third birthday, and still only a deacon. Moreover, he owed none of this success to the Wesleys, whom he had quickly eclipsed in fame and notoriety.
Nevertheless, he was interested in their Georgia mission and at their belated invitation decided to join them. The venture was, however, delayed, for various reasons, until February 1738. Indeed, he was in Deal harbour, ready to sail westward on February 7, his exuberantly hopeful departure making a poignant contrast to the dispirited homecoming of John Wesley. Wesley wrote Whitefield a hasty note, advising him to abandon his mission and return to London; see Tyerman, Life of Rev. George Whitefield (1876-77), I.114-16. Whitefield ignored this, of course, and thereafter was greatly vindicated by his almost instant success in Georgia. The colonists responded eagerly to his eloquence, and even William Stephens found his preaching impressive:
“May 21, 1738. Mr. Whitefield officiated this day at the church and made a sermon very engaging to the most thronged congregation I had ever seen there.” “May 28th. Mr. Whitefield manifests great ability in the ministry and his sermons today were very moving.” “July 2nd. Mr. Whitefield gains more and more on the affections of the people, by his labour and assiduity in the performance of divine offices [as a deacon!] to which an open and easy deportment without show of austerity or singularity of behaviour in conversation contribute not a little…. [Obviously, Stephens is here contrasting Whitefield with his predecessor.]”By temperament, however, Whitefield was indisposed toward a settled ministry, and was back in England before the year was out, preaching and raising money for both his ‘Charity Schools’ and a projected ‘Orphans’ House’ in Georgia. On January 14, 1739, he was ordained priest in Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford, by Bishop Benson, who was acting for Bishop Secker and also for Bishop Gibson of London, who had agreed with the Georgia Trustees that Whitefield should return to Savannah as rector. For this unusual ordination, Lady Huntingdon and some of her noble friends (e.g., the Duchess of Marlborough) had come as lay sponsors. Shortly thereafter, Whitefield began to preach in the fields of Kingswood (February 17) and was promptly threatened with excommunication by the Chancellor of the diocese (February 20). Disregarding this, he went from success to success in his new irregular 02:327ministry—and even managed to involve a reluctant John Wesley in it.
Five months later, he was on his way back to America with a collection of £2,530 for his cherished Orphanage (on a five hundred acre tract of land donated by the Georgia Trustees). In the course of the next thirty years he raised more than £3,000 for this project. Moreover, he added five more evangelistic missions to America and, despite his untimely death at fifty-five, he had left a permanent mark on American Christianity as a part of the first ‘Great Awakening’. It was a career more spectacular than Wesley’s in almost all respects, save only that he left no organization to carry on his work and also that his message left a scant residue of original ideas. But, as a popular spokesman for the prevailing Puritan piety, he had no peer in his time.
In his doctrine, predestination was more presupposed than argued out, but he asserted it so vigorously that Wesley came to regard it not only as a denial of ‘free-will’ but as an encouragement to the relaxation of Christian discipline. This is what Stephens had noticed in Georgia—and had approved. Moreover, Whitefield’s Journals, published in 1738-39, were candid beyond prudence and had made him an easy target for his critics. They pounced on his unguarded expressions of ‘enthusiasms’ (claims to ‘direct inspiration’) and on his equally unguarded invectives against the Establishment (cf. his comment that ‘Archbishop Tillotson knew no more about true Christianity than Mahomet’). When ‘Methodism’ was attacked (as by Bishop Gibson), it was Whitefield who was more often in view than the brothers Wesley—somewhat to their exasperation.
Although his first protests against Whitefield’s ‘overemphasis’ had been private, Wesley felt divinely led (in 1740) to preach and publish a harsh attack upon the doctrine and all its partisans, in a sermon called Free Grace (see No. 110). This caused an irreparable breach between what became ‘two sorts of Methodists’. Wesley and Whitefield both sought reconciliation, short of compromise—and Whitefield never lost his personal admiration for Wesley and for his mission. But Seymour’s insight on this point is shrewd: ‘Mr. Wesley and Mr. Whitefield interchanged letters not very frequently, and they preached occasionally in each other’s pulpits; but there was no cordial intercourse—no hearty cooperation. Such a wound as had been made in their friendship always leaves a scar…. Nevertheless, they did justice to each other’s intentions and virtues…’ (Seymour, Countess of Huntingdon, I.474).
Wesley reports two important approaches to reconciliation in 1766—in January (see JWJ for the 31st) and August (17 and 24), on 02:328the eve of Whitefield’s departure for America, from which he never returned. The latter is especially illuminating:
“It was at the earnest request of the Countess of Huntingdon, whose heart God has turned again, that I came hither [to meet Whitefield in London]; and if no other good result from it but our firm union with Mr. Whitefield, it is abundant recompense for my labour. My brother and I conferred with him every day, and we resolved…by the grace of God, to go on hand in hand through honour and dishonour.”They would not meet again on earth.
But tensions between Wesley and the Calvinists continued:
“Many were not a little surprised in the evening [of Aug. 25] at seeing me in the Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel. The congregation was not only large but serious, and I fully delivered my own soul. So I am in no concern whether I preach there again or no.”He never did.
Whitefield’s seventh mission to America ended in Newburyport, Massachusetts, on September 30, 1770. His untimely death and the extraordinary outpouring of grief and honour that followed are lovingly recounted in John Gillies, Memoirs of the Life of the Rev. G. Whitefield, M.A., in his collected edition of Whitefield’s Works (1771-72), VII.269-346.
“The melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield’s death reached London on Monday, Nov. 5, 1770, by the Boston Gazette and by three letters from different persons at Boston, to his friend Mr. Keen, who also by the same post received two of [Whitefield’s] own handwriting, written in health (one seven and the other five days before his death). Mr. Keen had the melancholy event notified the same night at the Tabernacle [Moorfields] and the next night at Tottenham Court Chapel. His next step was to consider of the proper person to preach the funeral sermon; and recollecting he had often said to Mr. Whitefield, ‘If you should die abroad, whom shall we get to preach your funeral sermon? Must it be your old friend, the Rev. Mr. John Wesley?’ And having received constantly for answer, ‘He is the man’, Mr. Keen accordingly waited on the Rev. Mr. Wesley on the Saturday following [Nov. 10] and engaged him to preach it on the Lord’s day, Nov. 18, which he did to a very large, crowded, and mournful auditory, many hundreds going away who could not possibly get in (p. 276).”Wesley’s record of this is in the Journal for November 10:
“I returned to London and had the melancholy news of Mr. Whitefield’s death confirmed by his executors, who desired me to preach his funeral sermon on Sunday the 18th. In order to write this, I retired to Lewisham on Monday, and on Sunday following went to the chapel in Tottenham Court Road…. It was an awful season. All were still as night; most appeared to be deeply affected; and an impression was made on many which one would hope will not speedily be effaced.” “The time appointed for my beginning at the Tabernacle [in Upper Moorfields, three hundred yards from the Foundery] was half-hour after five, but it was quite filled at three, so I began at four…. Oh that all may hear the voice of him with whom are the 02:329issues of life and death; and who so loudly, by this unexpected stroke, calls all his children to love one another. (See also Journal entries for November 23.)”The untypically fulsome title-page of this sermon suggests Wesley’s sense that it was, in some sense or other, the official memorial. There were, however, dozens of others both in America and England by closer friends and colleagues than Wesley; see Gillies’s Extracts from ‘Some of the Funeral Sermons Preached on the Occasion of [Whitefield’s] Death’, Memoirs in Works, VII.292-346. What is obvious is that Wesley was ‘thoroughly sensible how difficult it [was for him] to speak on so delicate a subject [under those circumstances]; what prudence is required…to say neither too little nor too much’ (II.3). The bulk of the sermon is a summary of Whitefield’s early career drawn chiefly from his Journals, to which are added excerpts from The Boston Gazette and The London Evening Post. The conclusion is a moving tribute to one whose talents for dramatic oratory were clearly greater than his own. The only inlet for controversy would come in Wesley’s claim that the essence of Whitefield’s gospel could be ‘summed up in two words, “the new birth” and “justification by faith”’. His offer to edit and publish Whitefield’s writings (see below, I.17) was quite sincere but quietly ignored. That assignment went to Dr. John Gillies.
One of Whitefield’s most ardent admirers, William Romaine, had already been outraged by the anti-Calvinist ‘Minute’ and was further offended by what he regarded as Wesley’s presumption. In the ensuing issue of The Gospel Magazine (January 1771) he attacked both the sermon and the preacher. His objection to the sermon was its text: ‘How improper to apply the words of a mad prophet [Balaam] to so holy a man as Mr. Whitefield!’ But his main complaint was Wesley’s falsification, as he saw it, of Whitefield’s essential teaching. ‘On the contrary, the grand fundamental doctrines which [Whitefield] everywhere preached were the everlasting covenant between the Father and the Son and absolute predestination flowing therefrom.’ Wesley’s cool reply to this may be seen in his open letter to Lloyd’s Evening Post, March 1, 1771.
This, and much more, lay behind what must have been, for Wesley, one of his most difficult ‘occasions’. It was a labour of love, an exercise in honest candour, an unaccustomed venture in diplomacy. The sermon went through five editions in two years and was not thereafter reprinted in Wesley’s lifetime; he omitted it from SOSO, I-VIII (1787-88). For this publishing history and a list of variant readings, see Appendix, Vol. 4; see also Bibliog, No. 324.
02:330 On the Death of George WhitefieldNumbers 23:10
Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!
1. ‘Let my last end be like his!’ How many of you join in this wish? Perhaps there are few of you who do not, even in this numerous congregation. And Oh! that this wish may rest upon your minds! That it may not die away till your souls also are lodged ‘where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest’!
Cf. Job 3:17; the text and an echo of Wesley’s early sermon, No. 109, The Trouble and Rest of Good Men.
2. An elaborate exposition of the text will not be expected on this occasion. It would detain you too long from the sadly-pleasing thought of your beloved brother, friend, and pastor; yea, and father too; for how many are here whom he hath ‘begotten in the Lord’!
Cf. 1 Cor. 4:15.
Heb. 13:7-8.
And may we not,
First, observe a few particulars of his life and death;
Secondly, take some view of his character; and,
Thirdly, inquire how we may improve this awful providence, his sudden removal from us.
I. 1. We may, in the first place, observe a few particulars of his life and death. He was born at Gloucester in December 1714,
Dec. 16.
St. Mary de Crypt.t
2. By them he was convinced that we ‘must be born again’,
John 3:7.
See 1 Cor. 2:2.
3. He was soon tried as with fire. Not only his reputation was lost, and some of his dearest friends forsook him, but he was exercised with inward trials, and those of the severest kind. Many nights he lay sleepless upon his bed, many days prostrate on the ground. But after he had groaned several months under ‘the spirit of bondage’, God was pleased to remove the heavy load by giving him ‘the spirit of adoption’,
Rom. 8:15.
A paraphrase of ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἀγαπητός (as in Matt. 3:17; 17:5; and 2 Pet. 1:17: ‘my beloved son’).
4. However, it was thought needful for the recovery of his health, which was much impaired, that he should go into the country. He accordingly went to Gloucester, where God enabled him to awaken several young persons. These soon formed themselves into a little society, and were some of the first-fruits of his labour. Shortly after he began to read twice or thrice a week to some poor people in the town, and every day to read to and pray with the prisoners in the county gaol.
5. Being now about twenty-one years of age, he was solicited to enter into holy orders. Of this he was greatly afraid, being deeply sensible of his own insufficiency. But the bishop himself sending for him, and telling him, ‘Though I had purposed to ordain none under three and twenty, yet I will ordain you whenever you come;’ and several other providential circumstances concurring, he submitted, and was ordained on Trinity Sunday, 1736.
June 20th.
6. But it was not long before he was invited to London to serve the cure of a friend going into the country.
Thomas Broughton (1712-77), curate of the Tower of London. He had been active in the Holy Club.
Cf. Jude 20.
7. But he was quickly called from hence again to supply the cure of Dummer in Hampshire.
As curate to Charles Kinchin (1711-42), another Oxford Methodist.
Cf. Luke 10:37.
8. Yet his mind still ran on going abroad. And being now fully convinced he was called of God thereto, he set all things in order, and in January 1737 went down to take leave of his friends in Gloucester. It was in this journey that God began to bless his ministry in an uncommon manner. Wherever he preached, amazing multitudes of hearers flocked together, in Gloucester, in Stonehouse,
Revd. Sampson Harris was the incumbent of St. Cyril’s parish church in Stonehouse, Gloucestershire. Whitefield preached in his pulpit and then in the churchyard to overflowing crowds.
A retrospective reference to James Edward Oglethorpe (1696-1785), one of the chief promoters and defenders of the Georgia colony; Oglethorpe’s promotion to brigadier-general did not come until 1743.
‘Often’ is inserted only in Works, 1771.
9. On December 28 [1737] he left London. It was on the 29th that he first preached without notes. December 30 he went on board;
The Whitaker, from Purfleet.
Cf. George Whitefield’s Journals, ed., Iain Murray (London, Banner of Truth Trust, 1960), p. 149.
10. From Sunday, May 7, 1738, till the latter end of August following, he ‘made full proof of his ministry’
Cf. 2 Tim. 4:5.
11. It was now that he observed the deplorable condition of many children here; and that God put into his heart the first thought of founding an orphan-house, for which he determined to raise contributions in England, if God should give him a safe return thither. In December following he did return to London, and on Sunday, January the 14th, 1739, he was ordained priest at Christ Church, Oxford. The next day he came to London again; and on Sunday 21st preached twice. But though the churches were large, and crowded exceedingly, yet many hundred stood in 02:334 the churchyard, and hundreds more returned home. This put him upon the first thought of preaching in the open air. But when he mentioned it to some of his friends, they judged it to be mere madness. So he did not carry it into execution till after he had left London. It was on Wednesday, February 21, that finding all the church doors to be shut in Bristol (beside that no church was able to contain one half of the congregation) at three in the afternoon he went to Kingswood and preached abroad, to near two thousand people. On Friday he preached there to four or five thousand; and on Sunday to (it was supposed) ten thousand. The number continually increased all the time he stayed at Bristol. And a flame of holy love was kindled, which will not easily be put out. The same was afterwards kindled in various parts of Wales, of Gloucestershire, and Worcestershire. Indeed wherever he went God abundantly confirmed the word of his messenger.
12. On Sunday, April 29, he preached the first time in Moorfields, and on Kennington Common.
A then open tract of public ground on ‘the Surrey side of the Thames’ across from Pimlico and just beyond the celebrated Vauxhall ‘pleasure gardens’. Cf. Earl of Egmont, Diary of Viscount Percival, Afterwards First Earl of Egmont (London, Historical Manuscripts Commission, 1920-23), III.64, 67-69, for an eyewitness account of Whitefield’s open air preaching on Woolwich Common (June 5, 1739) and on Charlton Green (June 8).
Because of the tense situation in the West Indies, which led to open war (Oct. 19, 1739); it was ‘the prelude to a struggle for dominion, lasting nearly a quarter of a century, between England and the Bourbon powers’; cf. Basil Williams, The Whig Supremacy, p. 203; see also, pp. 197-200, 220-21.
13. January 29 he added three desolate orphans to near twenty which he had in his house before. The next day he laid out the ground for the house, about ten miles from Savannah. February 02:33511 he took in four orphans more, and set out for Frederica
On St. Simon’s Island, where Charles Wesley had served briefly as minister. Cf. CWJ, Mar. 9-May 13, 1736.
A settlement of Scottish Highlanders at the mouth of the Altamaha River, seventy-three miles southwest of Savannah. Cf. JWJ, Dec. 2, 1737.
See John 5:2.
Phil. 4:6.
Ps. 147:9 (BCP).
14. In April he made another tour through Pennsylvania, the Jerseys, and New York. Incredible multitudes flocked to hear, among whom were abundance of Negroes. In all places the greater part of the hearers were affected to an amazing degree. Many were deeply convinced of their lost state; many truly converted to God. In some places thousands cried out aloud; many as in the agonies of death; most were drowned in tears; some turned pale as death; others were wringing their hands; others lying on the ground; others sinking into the arms of their friends; almost all lifting up their eyes, and calling for mercy.
15. He returned to Savannah June 5. The next evening during the public service the whole congregation, young and old, were dissolved in tears. After service several of the parishioners, and all his family, particularly the little children, returned home crying along the street, and some could not help praying aloud. The groans and cries of the children continued all night, and great part of the next day.
16. In August he set out again, and through various provinces came to Boston. While he was here and in the neighbouring places he was extremely weak in body. Yet the multitudes of hearers were so great, and the effects wrought on them so astonishing, as the oldest men then alive in the town had never seen before. The same power attended his preaching at New York; particularly on Sunday, November 2, almost as soon as he began, crying, weeping, and wailing were to be heard on every 02:336 side. Many sunk down to the ground, cut to the heart; and many were filled with divine consolation. Toward the close of his journey he made this reflection: ‘It is the seventy-fifth day since I arrived at Rhode Island, exceeding weak in body. Yet God has enabled me to preach an hundred and seventy-five times in public, beside exhorting frequently in private. Never did God vouchsafe me greater comforts. Never did I perform my journeys with less fatigue, or see such a continuance of the divine presence in the congregations to whom I preached.’
Cf. Whitefield, Journals, p. 499 (Dec. 1, 1740).
17. You may easily observe that the preceding account is chiefly extracted from his own Journals, which, for their artless and unaffected simplicity, may vie with any writings of the kind. And how exact a specimen is this of his labours both in Europe and America for the honour of his beloved Master during the thirty years that followed! As well as of the uninterrupted shower of blessings wherewith God was pleased to succeed his labours! Is it not much to be lamented that anything should have prevented his continuing this account till at least near the time when he was called by his Lord to enjoy the fruit of his labours? If he has left any papers of this kind, and his friends account me worthy of the honour, it would be my glory and joy to methodize, transcribe, and prepare them for the public view.
18. A particular account of the last scene of his life is thus given by a gentleman of Boston:
“After being about a month with us in Boston and its vicinity, and preaching every day, he went to Old York,Then in ‘New Hampshire’; now York Village, Maine.
Newburyport, Mass.
Jonathan Parsons (1705-76), minister of the Old South Church of Newburyport.
Presumably from one of those ‘three letters from different persons at Boston’ which Robert Keen would have brought to Wesley, along with his copy of the Boston Gazette—see above, p. 328.
II. 1. We are, in the second place, to take some view of his character. A little sketch of this was soon after published in the Boston Gazette, an extract of which is subjoined:
“Little can be said of him but what every friend to vital Christianity who has sat under his ministry will attest. In his public labours he has for many years astonished the world with his eloquence and devotion. With what divine pathos did he persuade the impenitent sinner to embrace the practice of piety and virtue! Filled with the spirit of grace, he spoke from the heart, and with a fervency of zeal perhaps unequalled since the days of the apostles, adorned the truths he delivered with the most graceful charms of rhetoric and oratory. From the pulpit he was unrivalled in the command of an ever-crowded auditory. Nor was he less agreeable and instructive in his private conversation: happy in a remarkable ease of address, willing to communicate, studious to edify. May the rising generation catch a spark of that flame which shone with such distinguished lustre in the spirit and practice of this faithful servant of the most high God!Abridged from an editorial in The Massachusetts Gazette, and Boston Post-Boy and The Advertizer, No. 684 (Mon. Oct. 1, 1770), p. 3. The news itself had been reported in the same paper the day before.
2. A more particular, and equally just character of him, has appeared in one of the English papers. It may not be disagreeable to you to add the substance of this likewise:
“The character of this truly pious person must be deeply impressed on the heart of every friend to vital religion. In spite of a tender and delicate constitution he continued to the last day of his life preaching with a frequency and a fervour that seemed to exceed the natural strength of the most robust. Being called to the exercise of his function at an early age, when most young men are only beginning to qualify themselves for it, he had not time to make a very considerable progress in the learned languages. But this defect was amply 02:338supplied by a lively and fertile genius, by fervent zeal, and by a forcible and most persuasive delivery. And though in the pulpit he often found it needful by ‘the terrors of the Lord to persuade men’,Cf. 2 Cor. 5:11.
An abridgement from The London Evening Post for Nov. 10, 1770 (No. 1607), p. 4. Sugden cites it as from The London Chronicle for Nov. 6, but that paper carried only an announcement of Whitefield’s death without the eulogy quoted here. The Post’s encomium was then reprinted in The Scots Magazine (Dec. 1770, XXXII.574-75), as from a ‘Lond[on] pap[er]’.
3. That both these accounts are just and impartial will readily be allowed; that is, as far as they go. But they go little farther than the outside of his character. They show you the preacher, but not the man, the Christian, the saint of God. May I be permitted to add a little on this head from a personal knowledge of near forty years? Indeed, I am thoroughly sensible how difficult it is to speak on so delicate a subject, what prudence is required to avoid both extremes, to say neither too little nor too much. Nay, I know it is impossible to speak at all, to say either less or more, without incurring from some the former, from others the latter censure. Some will seriously think that too little is said, and others that it is too much. But without attending to this I will speak just what I know, before him to whom we are all to give an account.
4. Mention has already been made of his unparalleled zeal, his indefatigable activity, his tender-heartedness to the afflicted, and charitableness toward the poor. But should we not likewise mention his deep gratitude to all whom God had used as instruments of good to him? Of whom he did not cease to speak in the most respectful manner, even to his dying day? Should we not mention that he had a heart susceptible of the most generous and the most tender friendship? I have frequently thought that this, of all others, was the distinguishing part of his character. How few have we known of so kind a temper, of such large and flowing affections! Was it not principally by this that the hearts of others were so strangely drawn and knit to him? Can anything but love 02:339beget love? This shone in his very countenance, and continually breathed in all his words, whether in public or private. Was it not this, which, quick and penetrating as lightning, flew from heart to heart? Which gave that life to his sermons, his conversations, his letters? Ye are witnesses.
5. But away with the vile misconstruction of men of corrupt minds, who know of no love but what is ‘earthly and sensual’.
Cf. Jas. 3:15.
1 Tim. 5:1-2.
6. Meantime, how suitable to the friendliness of his spirit was the frankness and openness of his conversation! Although it was as far removed from rudeness on the one hand as from guile and disguise on the other. Was not this frankness at once a fruit and a proof of his courage and intrepidity? Armed with these, he feared not the faces of men, but ‘used great plainness of speech’
Cf. 2 Cor. 3:12.
Cf. 2 Cor. 4:2.
7. Neither was he afraid of labour or pain, any more than of ‘what man could do unto him’,
Cf. Heb. 13:6.
Samuel Wesley, Jun., ‘The Battle of the Sexes’, st. xxxv, l. 8, in Poems (1736), p. 38; cf. John Wesley, A Collection of Moral and Sacred Poems (1744), III.33. See also, No. 83, ‘On Patience’, §7; his letters to Richard Morgan, Dec. 17, 1733, and Penelope Newman, Aug. 12, 1744. Cf. Wesley’s obituary of Robert Swindells, Minutes, July 29, 1783.
And this appeared in the steadiness wherewith he pursued whatever he undertook for his Master’s sake. Witness one instance for all, the orphan-house in Georgia, which he began and perfected in spite of all discouragements. Indeed, in whatever concerned himself he was pliant and flexible. In this case he was ‘easy to be entreated’,
Jas. 3:17.
John and Charles Wesley, Hymns and Sacred Poems (1739), p. 203 (Poet. Wks., I.180). Cf. Wesley’s letter to the Countess of Huntingdon, Sept. 16, 1773.
8. If it be inquired what was the foundation of this integrity, or of his sincerity, courage, patience, and every other valuable and amiable quality, it is easy to give the answer. It was not the excellence of his natural temper; not the strength of his understanding. It was not the force of education; no, nor the advice of his friends. It was no other than faith in a bleeding Lord: ‘faith of the operation of God’.
Col. 2:12.
Cf. 1 Pet. 1:3-4.
Cf. Rom. 5:5.
Cf. Jer. 9:1.
9. I may close this head with observing what an honour it pleased God to put upon his faithful servant by allowing him to declare his everlasting gospel in so many various countries, to such numbers of people, and with so great an effect on so many of their precious souls! Have we read or heard of any person since the apostles who testified the gospel of the grace of God through so widely extended a space, through so large a part of the habitable world? Have we read or heard of any person who called so many thousands, so many myriads of sinners to repentance? Above all, have we read or heard of any who has been a blessed instrument in his hand of bringing so many sinners ‘from 02:341darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God’?
Acts 26:18. On this same day (Nov. 18) Henry Venn was also preaching a similar sermon in the Countess of Huntingdon’s Chapel in Bath (on the text, Isa. 8:18) and agreed with Wesley on this point especially: ‘The greatness and intenseness of his labours…[and] their compass exceeds anything that others can pretend to’ (see John Gillies, Memoirs, in Whitefield’s Works, VII.332). Tyerman, Whitefield, II.619-28, lists seventeen memorial sermons preached and seven as published. At least six other published sermons are in MA. All of them stress the extraordinary impact of Whitefield’s preaching. Augustus Toplady went so far as to declare Whitefield ‘the Apostle of the English empire, …the prince of [all English] preachers’ (‘A Concise Character of the Late Rev. Mr. Whitefield’, Works [1837], p. 494).
Cf. 1 Cor. 14:11.
III. But how shall we improve this awful providence? This is the third thing which we have to consider. And the answer to this important question is easy (may God write it in all our hearts!): by keeping close to the grand doctrines which he delivered, and by drinking into his spirit.
1. And, first, let us keep close to the grand scriptural doctrines which he everywhere delivered. There are many doctrines of a less essential nature, with regard to which even the sincere children of God (such is the present weakness of human understanding!) are and have been divided for many ages. In these we may think and let think;
Cf. No. 7, ‘The Way to the Kingdom’, I.6 and n.
In his letter to his brother Charles, Aug. 19, 1785, Wesley wrote, ‘We can (as Mr. Whitefield used to say) agree to disagree.’ See also an earlier letter to Charles on Nov. 3, 1775. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses, i.433: ‘Discors concordia’ (‘agreeing to differ’). St. Bernard of Clairvaux had already phrased the same notion in his letter to Cardinal Hugh of Ostia: ‘It became a matter of discord. But why do I say discord? It was rather a matter of concord, for all the brethren were found to agree completely in disagreeing’ (Letters [1953], p. 443).
Jude 3.
2. His fundamental point was: give God all the glory of whatever is good in man. And in the business of salvation, set Christ as high and man as low as possible. With this point he and his friends at Oxford, the original Methodists
Wesley makes frequent autobiographical references to the Holy Club or ‘the young gentlemen at Oxford’. Cf. Nos. 63, ‘The General Spread of the Gospel’, §13; 79, ‘On Dissipation’, §20; see also 89, ‘The More Excellent Way’, VI.4; 112, On Laying the Foundation of the New Chapel, I.2, II.15.
Eph. 2:1.
Eph. 2:3.
Rom. 3:19.
3. And we are all helpless, both with regard to the power and to the guilt of sin. For, ‘Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?’
Job 14:4.
Cf. Titus 3:5.
Cf. Pss. 88:10; 115:17.
Isa. 53:5.
1 Pet. 2:24.
Cf. Rom. 4:25.
But this conflict between ‘meritorious’ and ‘formal’ causes in justification was one of the controverted issues between Wesley and the Calvinists (including Whitefield). See Whitefield’s Sermon XIV, ‘The Lord Our Righteousness’, in Works, V.216-34; and Sermon XV, ibid., pp. 235-50; and cf. Wesley’s No. 20, The Lord our Righteousness.
Cf. Eph. 2:9.
Cf. Rom. 3:28.
Cf. John 1:12-13.
02:3434. And ‘except a man be thus born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.’
Cf. John 3:3.
Cf. John 3:5.
Cf. Luke 17:21.
Rom. 14:17.
Cf. Phil. 2:5.
Cf. 1 John 2:6.
1 Pet. 1:15.
1 Cor. 1:31; 2 Cor. 10:17.
5. You are not ignorant that these are the fundamental doctrines which he everywhere insisted on. And may they not be summed up, as it were, in two words—the new birth, and justification by faith? These let us insist upon with all boldness, at all times, and in all places; in public (those of us who are called thereto) and, at all opportunities, in private. Keep close to these good, old, unfashionable doctrines, how many soever contradict and blaspheme. Go on, my brethren, ‘in the name of the Lord, and in the power of his might’;
Cf. Eph. 6:10.
Cf. 1 Tim. 6:20.
Cf. Matt. 24:35, etc.
6. But will it be sufficient to keep close to his doctrines, how pure soever they are? Is there not a point of still greater importance than this, namely, to drink into his spirit? Herein to ‘be a follower of’ him, ‘even as’ he was ‘of Christ’?
Cf. 1 Cor. 11:1.
Jas. 1:5.
See Col. 3:12.
Rom. 12:9.
7. Is there any other fruit of the grace of God with which he was eminently endowed, and the want of which among the children of God he frequently and passionately lamented? There is one, that is, catholic love: that sincere and tender affection which is due to all those who, we have reason to believe, are children of God by faith; in other words, all those in every persuasion who ‘fear God and work righteousness’.
See Ps. 15:2 (AV); Eccles. 12:13.
Cf. Heb. 6:5.
Cf. No. 39, ‘Catholic Spirit’. Also Richard Baxter, The True Catholick and Catholick Church Described.
Titus 2:14.
2 Cor. 12:15.
Cf. John 15:13; 1 John 3:16.
8. How amiable a character is this! How desirable to every child of God! But why is it then so rarely found? How is it that there are so few instances of it? Indeed, supposing we have tasted of the love of God, how can any of us rest till it is our own! Why, there is 02:345a delicate device whereby Satan persuades thousands
Cf. No. 42, ‘Satan’s Devices’; cf. also Whitefield’s Sermon XLVIII, ‘Satan’s Devices’, in Works, VI.241-56.
2 Tim. 2:26.
Cf. 1 Cor. 13:4, 5, 7.
Cf. Phil. 1:8.
9. Was not this the spirit of our dear friend? And why should it not be ours? O thou God of love, how long shall thy people be a by-word among the heathen?
See Ps. 44:14 (AV).
Tertullian, Apology, ch. 39, §7; see No. 22, ‘Sermon on the Mount, II’, III.18 and n.
See Josh. 5:9.
Cf. 2 Sam. 2:26, 28.
Heb. 11:4.
Cf. 1 Cor. 11:1.
Cf. Isa. 2:4; Mic. 4:3.
Cf. Col. 3:12-13.
Cf. Gal. 5:15.
Ibid.
Eph. 4:3.
10. O God, with thee no word
All published edns. read ‘word’; but is this a printer’s misreading of ‘work’?
2 Kgs. 2:14.
2 Kgs. 2:9, 15.
Cf. 1 Kgs. 18:24.
Cf. S. of S. 8:6.
Cf. Eph. 4:31.
Cf. Eph. 4:32.
An HYMN
By Charles Wesley (Poet. Wks., VI.316-17); this hymn, almost certainly included in the sermon as delivered, would have served as the rhetorical equivalent of an ascription.
How to Cite This Entry
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Entry Title: Sermon 53: On the Death of George Whitefield