on me for so large a sum as £147? 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 newcreature 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.

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 deemed it prudent to move about in the adjacent towns. The 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 hue-and-cry after me, and really brought me back." It was not so much to their credit, that they "begged earnestly for a six o'clock morning lecture," when they got him back. He seems to have been unable to comply with their cruel request: but he declined with reluctance. He preached for them, however, thrice a week for some time; and such was the number of converts discovered after his farewell sermon, that his friends actually proposed to send after him a book, full of names of the multitude who were clamorous for his return, although he was fleeing for his life. The heat alone had compelled him to leave. It was now summer, and he began to sink again. What could he do but fly? The good Bostonians assured him, that their summers had lately become much cooler than formerly, and that he might safely risk their dog-days now! He tried to believe them, until he had hardly breath enough to say farewell. His parting with them tried him much. "It has been heart-breaking," he says, " I cannot stand it!" They acted more considerately when his visit commenced. Then, "at a meeting of the freeholders and other inhabitants of the town of Boston, it was unanimously voted, that the thanks of the town be given to the Rev. George Whitefield, for his charitable care and pains in collecting a considerable sum of money in Great Britain, for the distressed sufferers by the great fire in Boston, 1760. A respectable committee was appointed to wait on Mr. Whitefield, to inform him of the vote, and present him with a copy thereof." Boston Gazette, February, 1764.

Urgency, like that at Boston, was employed with him at New Haven college. He had preached to the students, and taken his leave but such was the impression, that they sent the president after him, to entreat for another "quarter of an hour's exhortation." He complied, of course: and the effect was,

what he called," the crown of the expedition." Letters. He spent the summer in and around New York, without suffering much from the heat. Often, a hundred carriages might be seen in the streets, around whatever chapel he preached in. This pleased him but twice he got into the fields again; and then he exclaims, "We sat under the Redeemer's shadow with great delight."

In September, he went to Philadelphia again; and the effect, he says, "was great indeed." It made him exclaim, " Grace, grace!" He was also much gratified at Nassau Hall, where he preached at Commencement. Both the governor and exgovernor of the state, with the principal gentlemen of the city, attended, and the provost of the college read prayers for him. The trustees also sent him a vote of thanks for his services and the countenance he gave to the institution. About this time, a picture of him was taken by an American artist, who could not finish the drapery, owing to an attack of ague. Whitefield must have been pleased with it; for he sent it to England to be finished, and then "hung up in the Tabernacle parlour." There is a painting there, imperfect in its drapery, which has often astounded me; the figure is so unwieldy, and so unlike all my old prints. Until this moment, I could not account for its enormous obesity. It is, I now suspect, the original he sent from Philadelphia; for he was then much swollen. He calls it, in his letter, "my shadow:" I should like to have seen his smile, when he used these words! He must have been very ill, if he was grave then.

He was well enough, however, to cross-plough Virginia again. During this itineracy, he found here and there, in places as "unlikely as ROME itself," groups of new lights, formed and led on by a wealthy planter in the state. This he calls " grace indeed." They also met him in a body, to identify themselves publicly with him. The character and result of this campmeeting at Lockwoods, I do not know: but such was his own opinion of the prospects in Virginia at large, that he wrote home thus: "Surely the Londoners, who are fed to the full, will not envy the poor souls in these parts. I almost determine to come back in the spring" to them, from Georgia.