25 NOVEMBER 1837, Page 17

PHILIP'S LIFE AND TIMES OF WHITEFIELD.

ALTHOUGH DOW only familiarly known to certain religious sects, the Reverend GEORGE WHITEFIELD was one of the most conspicuous characters for a considerable part of the last century. At the outset of his career, POPE represented him its the Danciad as a candidate for the brayer's prize- " There, Webster, pealed thy voice, and Whitefield thine."

At a later period, Bicteensrsor libelled him as Dr. Cantwell in the Hypocrite, and FooTE as Dr. Squintnin in the Minor. FRANKLIN Etna HUME, GARRICK and SHUTKR, (Tragedy and Farm) with many intermediate Thespian representatives. "sat Wider for his oratory ; CHESTERFIELD professed himself edified by his disccurses in Lady HUNTINGDON'S drawing-room ; BOLINGBROKE " was pleased to say " that he did great justice to the Divine attributes, and offered to draw his pen to maintain the doctrines of " predestinat ion arid grace" against all revilers.* Cour- tiers were converted, and threw up their appointments: at Edin- burgh he worked upon the Scotch nobility ; and in America (be- fore the Revolution) he was received by Governors and Councils in grand procession. Thousands and tens of thousands of the people flocked to hear him in England, Scotland, and America.— in buildings when buildings could contain the multitude, or the churches were not shut against him ; in the fields when "temples made with bands" were insufficient, or unattainable. Somed: es his life was attempted, often was his person attacked, by formalists or libertines; but more frequently the power of his discourse was such that the sticks or stones fell from the handset' his intended as- saulters,and " those who came to seen' remained to pray." Wherever he went " much people were turned to the Lord,- and, harder task I lie influenced the pleasures and pursuits of tnen. STUTTER he could only frighten ; but at Glasgow, where he preached against thea- tricals, the manager ;aye up his calliog, and to remove temptation took off the playhouse-roof. At Plymouth, the ferrymen refused to take meney Irma those who tl,e!:.ed over to hear h;nt, saying "Gial ibrbill that we should $4/ the work of God:* Ile encoun- tered Satan in iiiA strang-hobls of MuJrfields and Mary lobone- at that time only fields, and tile resort of the coarsest pepulace of that coarse arc; and such was the phwer of his aill:e•ses, that the spurts 01111 fairing were at an end, and multitudes ILO:LA round the tnissioeary to the suspension of the mouutelemhs' trade. Neither " Satan" nor his votaries, however, could bear this, but attacked the preacher, though unstiecissfully ; their greatest effort being defeated by what he thought a miraculous interposition.

Much of this is to be ascribed to the religious enthusiasm and natural genius of WHITEFIEILD, as well as to his self-training. But a good deal is to be found in the red ;;ions and intellectual character of the times. To prove the assertion would take us over the whole of ecclesiastical history ; but we may safely as- sert that vital religion has never gained any thing from esta- blished churches, and not much from organized or endowed. To methodize and preserve, is as much as they have been equal to; and even that has been chiefly accomplished by worldly means— by substituting temporalities for " inward and spiritual grace," as well as by using discipline and formal ceremonials to supply the place of religious enthusiasm. It will be understood, of course, that we speak of the working of churches in their corpo rate capacity—in the labours of the body of the priesthood, and their effects upon the body of the people ; for us grace has never been wanting in the Church of Christ, so have its individual ope- rations been splendid and numerous. And about the time of WHITEFIELD anti the %Vent:vs, this supineeess of clerical corporations had reached its height. The Chinch of Rome, which in practice has always buried under a crowd of ob- servances true Christian faith, distinguishing it the logically from Christian sentiment, had lost with its spirit of perse- cution much of its spirit of zeal. The Church of Englend, sink- ing fast if not sunk into ration.ilism, confined itself to the letter that killeth, and preached only morality. The Presbyterians were chiefly zealous about forms; railing at superstitions in a su- perstitious spirit, and, it is to he feared, too often making Chris- tianity distasteful, by rendering it in appearance as sour as them- selves. Even the Dissenters were lukewarm. The Nonc.eiformists had separated from the Church mainly upon points of discipline ; and both Dissenters and Sectarians were so fearful of Papistry, that they looked upon the State Church as a barrier against its abominations, and were well content to be on terms of civility and regard with its ministers. The immutable doctrines of Christianity were, no doubt, to be found in the articles or belief of the Churches; but they wanted bringing out. And this want • On anotheroccasion, Mr. Virtue thinks Bora KGEROX E might he hoaxing WHITE ; but there seems to bent) reason for the suspicion, in the common meaning of hoax. Boulscintoxe guarded himself by the qualification, " ad- miffing the Bible to be true." was supplied from the bosom of oar Church b) the uprising first of the WESLEYS and then of W 1-1 TE V E 1.11.

Let such men have appeared at any time, they would have pro- duced a great effect upon the religion of their age; but they fell upon a period peculiarly favourable to effects such as we have de- scribed. The more intellectual of the higher classes were infected by a cold scepticism, which rendered them indisposed to persecute for conscience sake : the cruelty and im policy of persecution had been lately demonstrated by LOCKE. The Methodists, besides, were very loyal,* and opposed themselves with a deadly opposition to the Pretender and Popery. Hence, a sneer or a witticism was all they had to contend against from the great ; and not even that from the ruling powers. The people, including the middle classes, and the females of every class excepting perhaps (?) the highest, were uneducated, yet sufficiently stimulated by the education and intel- lectual advancement around them to stand in need of some mental excitement. And it was brought to them in the tremendous myste- ries of Christianity. The " morality " recommended by the regular divines was treated as secondary, or rather as a consequence corning of itself. The uneducated, the half-instructed, the moping, the hys- terical, and the vacant, were presented with the startling doctrines of original sin,—that is, the innate corruption of man consequent upon his fall, and the utter impossibility of his achieving any goodness of himself. From these premises naturally followed the necessity of the vicarious sacrifice in the death of Christ ; the firm belief of which was the only means of justifying sinners—theolo- gically called justification by faith. But as man was by nature thoroughly corrupt, he could not even believe of himself; to achieve this the influence of the Holy Ghost was essential, which entering instantaneously in the " moment of grace," produced a regeneration, or, as it was called, a " new birth." Even after the rousing labours of WESLEY and WHITEFIELD have rendered these doctrines familiar to many Dissenters and to the Evange- lical party in the Church, their naked statement is apt to startle formalists and sceptics. What, then, must have been their effects 'upon an audience such as we have described, when the hideous- mess of sin, the danger of sinners, and the terrors of hell, were painted by the most consummate master of oratorical effect, and with an unctuous ardour which only conscientious enthusiasm could have given.

The events of WHITEFIELD'S early life were few ; the incidents of his manhood and middle age (he died at fifty-six) uniform. His parents were innkeepers at Gloucester ; where he was born in 1714. In his childhood he was sent to the Grammar-selrol; in his youth lie put " on the blue apron and the snutlios," and followed the calling of a drawer for a year and a half. having

distinguished himself at school, and the family appearing to have friends, he was sent to Oxford in his eighteenth year, as a servi-

tor ; fell in with the Methodists, which class the WESLEYS had just formed ; became a hard student of the Scriptures ; end when about twenty-one, two years under the regular age, was ordained by BENSON, the Bishop of Gloucester commemorated by POPE- " Manners with cambiar are to Beeson given."

His first preaching produced considerable effect in Gloucester, and a greater in London : he was mightily followed by congregations, and sought after by the managers of charitable institutions. Be- fore the first novelty had subsided, he started for Georgia ; and he passed the remainder of his life like a primitive apostle, in con- stant journies and preachings. He visited America thrice, Scot- land and Ireland twice, the Bermudas once ; and he was con- stantly itinerating England and Wales,—though in his latter years, when his health failed him, he made London his head- quarters for the winter. This confinement, however, was irksome ; and he constantly longed for the excitement of' the journey and " field-preaching." In this vocation of his, nothing daunted him,—neither insults, nor assaults, nor fatigue, our weather. How bard he worked in his best days, may be gathered from the labours of his worst : when declining strength com- pelled him to relax, he put himself' on what he called " short allowance," preaching once every week-day and thrice on Sunda) s ! The mind and the self-training of WHITEFIELD are his bio- graphy ; and, as such, would be worthy of an elaborate and phi- losophical exposition. We can only here touch upon a few lead- ing points. According to his owe. account, he was a brand mira- culously snatched from the burning. Never was there a stronger instance of original sin, or of a corrupt nature over which Satan bad greater power. " If I trace myself," says he, " from my cradle to my manhood, I can see nothing in me but a fitness to be damned." In childhood, he adds, "I was so brutish as to hate instruction ; and used, purposely, to shun all oppertunmea of receiving in I soon gave pregnant proofs of an impudent

tamper. Lying, filthy talking, and foolish jesting, I was much addicted to,

even when very young. Sometimes I used to curse, if not swear. Stealing from my mother I thought no theft at all, and used to make no scruple of tak- ing motley out of her pockets before she was up. I have fiequently betrayed any trust ; and have more than once spent money I took in the Louse, iu buying fruit, tarts, &cc. to satisfy my sensual appetite. Numbers of Sabbaths have 1

broken, and generally used to behave myself very irreverently in God's sane. tuary. Much money have I spent in playa, and in the common amusements of the age. Cards, and reading romances, were my heart's delight."

These sins, however, were accompanied by temporary misgivings,

• With WHITEFIY.1.1) this was at times a matter of inspiration. In one of his itineraries, he had not heard of Grose. 6 the Second having gone to Ger. many, till he learnt of his departure and victory at once: on which he ex. clainied—" I had observed for some time past, when praying for him, that, whether 1 would or no, out came this petition, Lord, cover thou his head in the day of battle " and occasional recourse to prayer ; at times he salved his conscience by giving part of the stolen money to the poor ; some books which he took from others were " books of devotion." But these good seeds were in a measure strangled, when he was sent, about twelve years old, to St. Mary De Crypt Grammar School. " Having a good elocution and memory, I was remarked for making speeches before the Corporation at their annual visitation. During the time of my being at school, I was very fond of reading plays, and have kept from school for days together to prepare for acting them. My master, seeing how mine and my schoolfellows vein ran, coo. posed something of this kind for us himself, and caused me to dress myself in girl's clothes (which I had often done) to act a part before the Corporation." From which early practice, his critical observers have deduced the theatrical and effective style of his delivery : but W HITEFIELD himself attributed to it much of his sin both at Gloucester and Oxford. "I got acquainted with such a set of debauched, abandoned, atheistical youths, that if God, by his free, unmerited, and special grace, had not delivered me out of' their hands, I should have sat in the scorner's chair, and made a mock at sin. By keeping company with them, my thoughts of religion grew more and more like theirs. I went to public service only to make sport and walk about. I took pleasure in their lewd conversation. I began to reason as they did, and to ask why God had given me passions and not permitted me to gratify them? In short, I soon made great proficiency in the school of the Devil. I affected to look rakish, and was in a fair way of being as infamous as the worst of them."

Still, at times, lie experienced "awakenings of conscience. At home, he threw up his drawership, and quitting his brother's inn, went to live with his mother ; where he was punctual in attendance upon church and the sacrament. At Oxford, his regular compliance a ith the religious statutes of the college exposed him to ridicule. But he was yet no better than a formalist; till he was rescued by the'friendship of CHARLES WES- LEY, and a book he lent him.

" In a short time he let me have another book, entitled, The Lift of God is the Soul of Man ; and though I hail fasted, watched, and prayed, and received the sacrament so long, yet 1 never knew what true religion was, till God sent me that excellent treatise by the hands of my never.tosbe.forgotten friend. At my first reading it, 1 wondered what the author meant by saying, That some

falsely placed religion in going to church, doing hurt to no one, being constant in the duties of the closet, and now and then reaching out their hands to give alms to their poor neighbours.' Alas ! thought I, if this be not religion, what

is? God soon showed me; for in reading a few lines further, that true religion wqv a onion of the soul teitla God and Christ formed within us,' a ray of divine light was instantaneously darted in upon my soul ; and from that moment, but not till then, (lid I know that I must be a new creature."

The throes of this new birth would have been fatal both to the mind and body of many.

"By degrees I began to leave off eating fruits and such like, and gave the money I usually spent in that way to the pour. Afterwards I always chose the worst sort of Moil, though my place furnished me with variety. My apparel eras mean. 1 thought it unbecoming in a penitent to have his hair powdered. I wore woollen gloves, a patched gown, and dirty shoes; and though 1 was there convince I that the kingdom of Guil (lid nut consist in meats and drinks, yet I resolutely persisted in these voluntary acts of self-denial, because I found them great promoters of the spiritual lite. It was now suggested to me, that Jesus Christ was among the wild beasts when he was tempted, and that I ought to follow his example; and being willing, as I thought, to imitate Jesus Christ, after supper I went into Christ Church walk, near our college, and con• finite(' in silent prayer nearly two hours ; sometimes lying flat on my face, sometimes kneeling upon my knees. The night being stormy, it gave me awful thoughts of the day of judgment. The next night I repeated the same exercise at the saint place. Soon after this, the holy season of Lent came on, which our friends kept very strictly ; eating no flesh during the six weeks, except on Saturdays and Sundays. 1 abstained frequently on Saturdays also, and ate nothing on the other days (except Sunday) but sage•tea without sugar, and coarse bread. I constantly walked out in the cold mornings till part of one of my bands was quite black. This, with my continued abstinence and inward couflicts, at length so emaciated my body, that, at Passion-week, finding I could scarce creep up stairs, I was obliged to inform my kind tutor of my condition, who immediately sent for a physician to me." While it is impossible to read this catalogue of extravagances without pitying the wretched sufferer and his superstitious friends, it is equally impossible to refrain front smiling and frowning, alternately, at the gross absurdities of quietism, and the foolish requirements of the Rubric. Many of both are equal outrages on common sense ; to say nothing of their being unscriptural.

But these were not the only baneful effects of Whitefield's intimacy with the Methodists. "The course of my studies I soon entirely changed: whereas,be. fore, I was busied in studying the dry sciences, and books that went no further

than the surface, 1 now resolved to read only such as entered into the heart of religion. Meeting with Castanza's ' Spiritual Combat,' in which he says that

' be that is employed iu mortifying his will was as well employed as though he was converting the Indians,' Satan so imposed upon my understanding, that be persuaded me to shut myself up in my study till I could do good with a single

eye; lest, in endeavouring to save others, I should, at last, by pride and self. complacence, lose myself. When Castanet advised to talk but little, Satan said I must not talk at all ; so that I, who used to be the must forward in exhorting

my companions, have sat whole nights without speaking at all. Again, when

Castanza advised to endeavour after a silent recollection, and waiting upon God, Satan told use I must leave all forms, and not use my voice in prayer at all.'

These habits soon affected his college exercises also. " Whenever I endeavoured to compose my theme, I had no power to write a word, nor so much as to tell my Christian friends of my inability to du it. All power of meditating, or even thinking, was taken from me. My memory quite failed me ; and 1 could fancy myself to be like nothing so much as a man locked up in iron armour."

The enthusiasm that could endure this active suffering and passive restraint, was not likely to boggle at external opposition, especially from creatures whom he deemed the Devil's children. And, early as WHITEFIELD came before the world, it may be I inferred that his oratorical powers were equally the result of self- training,—that, however he might be endowed by nature, labour is the moral of his success. We have seen how early he was accustomed to speak in public with. a sole regard to delivery

and vesture: when he became more serious, he was accustomed to expound to his friends and the poor. After his connexion with the Methodists, his whole time was devoted to the study of the Scrip- tures, and to reading, prayers, and exposition with the poor and the prisoners. So far as labour went, he lived in a few years, wore than the whole life of half-a-dozen average clergymen; not only accustoming himself to composition and elocution, but ac- quiring that knowledge of vulgar human nature, and skill in addressing it, which he afterwards used with such extraordinary success.

Except in a hatred of Papistry,WHITEFIELD'S views of religion were very Catholic. He himself never actually separated from the Church of England, but continued to the last a curate without an appointment ; and it seems doubtful how fur he disapproved of

her government or her doctrines as contained in the Articles. But forms had no influence upon his mind. He preached " to call sin- ners to repentance," without regard to sect ; and, in his own lan-

guage, would receive even the " Devil's castaways." It would be easy to adduce instances of this Christian freedom. But he has

himself given such a thorough picture of it, heightened by so rich and racy a contrast with the narrow views of sectarians, that be had better tell it in his own words. If the reader has met it before, it will bear reading again.

WHITEFIELD had been invited by the ERSKINES to Scotland ; probably with the view of strengthening their party, which had seceded from the Kirk.

"I met most of them, according to appeintment, en Wednesday last—a set of grave, venerable men. They soon agreed to form themselves into a pres- bytery, and were proceeding to choose a moderator. I asked them for what purpose ? They answered, to discourse, and set me right, about the matter of church government, and the Solemn League and Covenant. I replied, they might save themselves that trouble, for I had no scruples about it; and that settling church government and preaching about the Solemn League and Cove. mut was not my plan. I then told them something of my experience, and bow I was led oat into my present way of acting. One in particular said, he was deeply affected ; and the dear E— desirei they would have patience with inn, fur that, having been born and bred in England, and never studied the point, I could not be supposed to be so perfectly acquainted with the nature of their Covenants. One, much warmer than the rest, immediately replied, ' that no indulgence was to be shown lee; that England had revolted must with respect to church government ; and that I, born and educated there, could not but be acquainted with the matter now in debate.' I told him I had never yet made the Solemn League aed Covenant the object of my study, being too busy about matters, as I judged, of greater importance. Several re- plied, that every pin of the tabernacle was precious. I said, that in every building there were outside and inside norkiren; that the latter, at present, was my province; that if they thought themselves called to the former, they might proceed iu their own way, and I should proceed in mine. I then asked them, seriously, what they would have to: to du? the answer was, that I was not desired to subscribe immediately to the S..lernn League and Covenant, but to preach only for them till I had further VII.. I asked why only for them ?

Mr. Ralph E— said, they were tic L t people. I then asked whether there were no other Lord's people but themselves ? and supposing all others were the Devil's people, they certainly had nitre need to be preached to, and therefore I was more and more determh.ed to go our into the highways and Lob.es; and that if the Nye himself would hnul roe his pulpit, I would gladly proclaim the righteousness of Jesus Christ therein. Soon after this, the com- pany broke up ; and one of these, otherwise venerable immediately went into the meeting-house, and preached upon these. words, Watchman, what of

the night ? watchman, what of the it atcl.;.can said, the mowing cowl). and also the night ; if ye will inquire, inquire ye; return, come.' I attended ; but the pawl man so spent himself in the former part of his sermon, in talking ag dint Prelacy, the Common Pr,.yer bock, the surplice, the rose in the hat, and such like externals, that when he came to the latter part of his text, to invite poor sinners to Jesus Christ, his breath was so gout that he could scarce be heard."

An orator may be considered first as to composition. secondly as to delivery. The composition of WHITEFIELD was of a tempo- rary nature. So far as his doctrines were true, they were of course as eternal as the Scriptures upon which they are grounded; but his enthusiastic manner of apply ing nod enforcing them, though fitted to arouse his own age, was ill suited to the sobriety of another, which inherited the purified gold w hose ore its prede- cessor had been goaded to acquire. His labours were too rapid and unceasing to admit of much choice, selection, or condensation ; and as his object was the salvation of souls, be considered time too precious to be wasted on literary excellence, at the risk of losing even a single sinner. These things operate against him with posterity ; but his sermons were well adapted to his audience. They had the first of requisites—earnestness and soul. His illustrations and images were copious and various, arising from his great industry and experience of life ; for as he had mingled with all classes, he could reach them by some familiar allusion to their daily practice; and those persons who were intimate with hun often traced in his discourses his reading of the previous week. His metaphors were bold and distinct ; if far-fetched, striking, though sometimes ludicrous. He was always apt in his choice of topics, texts, and instances; and he had a boldness of personification and picture-like manner of treatment, which seemed to place before the eyes of his audience the scene he wished to press upon their minds. WHITEFIICLD'S delivery, if judged by description, would be pro- nounced too theatrical and exaggerated. Ile gesticulated vio- lently ; he acted literally. Ile stamped, he thumped, he attitudi-

nized : he threw himself into the situation of the martyr whose sufferings be was describing ; lie feigned to behold the horrors he was painting ; and we have beard from the immediate descendant of one of his followers, that when he introduced his favourite pas- sage "And Jesus wept,' he used to cover his face with his robe

as if in the act of weeping. But all critical objections vanished before the magic of his presence. The weak and the vulgar went into fits, or fainted, or howled, or were bathed in tears, or mightily subdued. FRANKLIN, who once attended a charity sermon, prede- termined to give nothing, was so affected by successive touches, that lie gave all he had about him. And our opening paragraph contained a long roll of names, and more might be added, whose coldly critical judgments could not have been imposed upon by mere religious enthusiasm or vulgar tricks It should be observed, however, that be retained so much of' his juvenile vocation as rigidly to follow the spirit of Hamlet's advice to the players: he never lost himself, and always retained the " solemnity " of a preacher. In person he was spare, till he advanced in years; his countenance, judging from his portrait, was not very expressive, and he had a cast in one of his eyes. His voice, it is said, was so powerful that it could be heard at the distance of a mile when the wind was favourable.

Sufficient evidence exists to show that much of the effects pros duced by WHITEFIELD were the result of consummate art. Preaching so continually and in such distant places as he did, his subjects were constantly the same ; and his sermons very often repeated, with improvements at each repeatal both in com- position and delivery. Habit, we may suppose, had prodigiously strengthened bis natural memory ; and though he soon began to preach extempore, yet he seems to have retained totidem verbis his favourite discourses; and noting in his mind the weaker parts, lie replaced them by more effective passages either springing from previous meditation or the inspiration of the moment. This re- peated labour was more visible in his delivery. Some gestures or attitudes were retained, but heightened; others replaced. FOOTE and GARRICK indeed used to say, that a sermon was never preached with the last touches of which W HITEFIELD was capable, until he had delivered it forty times. What is yet stranger, he did not seem to pall his audience. Certain points were expected, but when they came they were as effective as at first.

The volume which has given occasion to this paper is a work of considerable ability. Mr. PHILIP is a shrewd, bard-headed, independent Nonconformist, who passes a judgment upon men and things correspondent to these qualities. He has also vigour of thought and force of style : but his mind is somewhat affected by sectarian narrowness, with a share of that positiveness so apt to be acquired by sectarians, absolute in their own little realm, and unfettered by the discipline of a church organized with a roll of articles and a gradation of orders. His work, however, is almost as much a commentary upon the life of WHITEFIELD as a life itself. He does not follow either the order of chronology or of subjects; but subdivides his book into a variety of heads, as

a preacher might do a discourse. Thus there is " Whitefield's Introduction to London," " Whitelield's First Voyage and Visit to Georgia," " Whitefield in Wales," " Whitefield in America," " Whitefielifs Breach with Wesley," " Whitefield and the Dis- senters," and so forth ; which, however suggestive and telling as

titles, by no means contribute to consecutiveness of narration, or to a wholeness of view from the "cradle to the grase." A life of WHITEFIELD may undoubtedly be picked out from Mr. PHILIP'S work ; but the book itself rather presents a view of his public character and religious influences.