From Limerick he went to Dublin, where he preached twice in the churches; the second time to such a rivetted crowd, that he calls it, "like a London congregation." Here also the bishops were neither afraid nor ashamed of him. The primate of all Ireland invited him to dinner, and told him that he heard of him from Gibraltar. The bishop of Londonderry also was equally kind. Whitefield felt all this deeply, and rejoiced with trembling. "Dearest Jesus," he exclaims, "grant me humility! so shall thy favours not prove my ruin." Such was his first reception in Ireland. His second, in 1751, although upon the whole favourable, was "not like uuto it." He was now a field preacher, and just hot from Wales, where he had been preaching twice a day, over a space of 500 miles. He began his labour in Dublin, and found at once large congregations hearing "as for eternity." In Limerick and Cork, also, his commanding eloquence overawed the old persecutors. The public cry was, "Methodism is revived again;" but it was the signal of welcome, not of war, as formerly. At this time he was both very weak in body, and subject to daily vomiting. During this visit, he preached eighty times, and with great success. "Providence," says he, "has wonderfully prepared my way, and overruled every thing for my greater acceptance. Every where there seems to be a shaking among the dry bones, and the trembling lamps of God's people have been supplied with fresh oil. The word ran and was glorified." "Hundreds," says Dr. Southey, "prayed for him, when he left Cork; and many of the Catholics said, that, if he would stay, they would leave their priests." One cause of Whitefield's popularity at this time was, that he meddled not with Irish politics. "He condemned all politics," says Dr. Southey, "as below the children of God; " but why did the Doctor add, "alluding, apparently, to the decided manner in which Wesley always inculcated obedience to government as one of the duties of a Christian; making it his boast, that, whoever became a good Methodist, became, at the same time, a good subject." Was Whitefield less loyal than Wesley? Where? Not in Ireland certainly. I have now before me the letter which justifies the Doctor in hinting that Whitefield "seems to have regarded the conduct of Wesley and his lay-preachers," in Ireland, "with no favourable eye." But why should this be interpreted to mean their politics chiefly, or at all? Dr. Southey quotes from Whitefield, as if he had said, that "some dreadful offences had been given" by the Wesleyans; and argues as if they had been political offences. Whitefield himself says, "I find, through the many offences that have lately been given, matters (among the Methodists,) were brought to a low ebb; but now, the cry is, ' Methodism is revived again!' Thanks be to God, that I have an opportunity of showing my disinterestedness, and that I preach not for a party of my own, but for the common interest of my blessed Master. Your ladyship" (the letter is to Lady Huntingdon,) "would smile to see how the wise have been catched in their own craftiness." Now this justifies the hint, that Whitefield "seems to have regarded their conduct with no favourable eye." Indeed it is the severest thing I know of, that he says in connexion with Wesley's name-for that he meant him, by "the wise caught in their own craftiness," is obvious. It is not "apparent," however, that he alluded to "the decided manner in which Wesley inculcated obedience to government." That, in fact was not a matter of policy, but of vital principle, with Wesley and Whitefield too. Wesley had, however, lines of policy, which Whitefield was jealous of, and opposed to, not without reason. Whitefield's last visit to Ireland was in 1757, when he nearly lost his life, after preaching at Oxminton Green. This was popish outrage. The church was not unfriendly to him. Indeed, one of the bishops said to a nobleman, who told Whitefield," I am glad he is come to rouse the people." Even the primate solicited him to "accept of some considerable church preferment, which he declined." De Courcy. "Perferments, honours, ease, he deemed but loss, To him to live was Christ; to die was gain." De Courcy's Elegy. His own narrative of the outrage is as interesting as it is circumstantial." Many attacks have I had from Satan's children, but yesterday you would have thought he had been permitted to give me an effectual parting blow. I had once or twice ventured out to Oxminton Green, a large place like Moorfields, situated very near the barracks, where the Ormond and Liberty boys, that is, the high and low party boys, generally assemble every Sunday, to fight each other. When I was here last, the congregations were very numerous, and the word seemed to come with power, and no noise nor disturbance ensued. This encouraged me to give notice, that I would preach there again. I went through the barracks, the door of which opens into the Green, and pitched my tent near the barrack walls-not doubting of the protection, or at least interposition, of the officers and soldiery, if there should be occasion. But how vain is the help of man? Vast was the multitude that attended. We sang, prayed, and preached without molestation; only now and then a few stones and clods of dirt were thrown at me. "It being war time, I exhorted, as is my usual practice, my hearers, not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings; and after sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms. All being over, I thought to return home the way I came but, to my great surprise, access was denied, so that I had to go near half a mile from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, &c. Finding me unattended, (for a soldier and four Methodist preachers, who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their mercy. But their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty. Volleys of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step I took a fresh stone made me reel backwards and forwards, till I was almost breathless, and all over a gore of blood. My strong beaver hat served me as it were for a scull cap for a while; but at last it was knocked off, and my head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large, and near my temples. I thought of Stephen, and as I believed that I received more blows I was in great hopes that like him I should be despatched, and go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence of my MasBut providentially a minister's house lay next door to the Green; with great difficulty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to, and shut upon, me. Some of the mob in the meantime having broke part of the boards of the pulpit into large splinters, they beat and wounded my servant griev ously in his head and arms, and then came and drove him from the door. For a while I continued speechless, panting for, and expecting every breath to be my last. Two or three of the hearers, my friends, by some means or other, got ad ter. mission, and kindly with weeping eyes washed my bloody wounds, and gave me something to smell to and to drink. I gradually revived, but soon found the lady of the house desir ed my absence, for fear the house should be pulled down. What to do I knew not, being near two miles from Mr. W―'s place; some advised one thing, and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends that came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off in disguise. I accepted of and put them on, but was soon ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper habit, and threw them off with disdain. I determined to go out (since I found my presence was so troublesome) in my proper habit ; immediately deliverance came. A methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach; I leaped into it, and rode in gospel triumph through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists unhurt, though threatened every step of the ground. None but those who were spectators of the scene, can form an idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping, mourning, but now joyful Methodists. A Christian surgeon was ready to dress our wounds, which being done, I went into the preaching-place, and after giving a word of exhortation, joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him who makes our extremity his opportunity, who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people. The next morning I set out for Port Arlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors hath often made preachers. That I may be thus revenged of them, is my hearty prayer." CHAPTER XVIII. WHITEFIELD'S CHARACTERISTIC 1734 TO 1745. SAYINGS. CONTENTMENT. "I find all uneasiness arises from having a will of my own; therefore I would desire to will only what God wills." CONDITION. "Alas! that any one should inquire after such a wretch as I am. As for my quality; I was a poor, mean drawer (tapster); but, by the grace of God, I am now intended for the ministry. As for my estate! I am a servitor. And as to my condition and circumstances; I have not (of my own) where to lay my head. But my friends, by God's providence, minister daily to me and, in return for such unmerited, unspeakable blessings, I trust the same good Being will give me grace to dedicate myself without reserve to his service-to spend and be spent for the welfare of my fellow-creatures, and in endeavouring to promote the gospel of his Son as much as lieth in my poor power." Whitefield's early purpose turned out an accurate prophecy! He became what he wished to be, and did what he designed. HUMILITY. "Catch an old Christian without humility-if you can! It is nothing but this flesh of ours, and those cursed seeds of the proud apostate, which lie lurking within us, that make us think ourselves worthy of the air we breathe. When our eyes are opened by the influence of divine grace, we then shall begin to think of ourselves as we ought to think;' even that Christ is all in all, and we less than nothing." INEXPERIENCE. Oh, let us young, inexperienced soldiers, be always upon our guard. The moment we desert our post, the enemy rushes in and if he can but so divert our eyes from looking heavenward, (often,) he will soon so blind us, that we shall not look towards it at all. A great deal may be learned from a little fall." EXAMPLE. "The degeneracy of the age is not the least |