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, 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. In both the places of worship the pulpits, &c. were hung with black cloth, and the galleries with fine black baize. The pulpits had escutcheons placed in front, and on each of the houses adjoining, hatchments were put up: the motto on each was, Mea vita Solus, et Gloria Christus. Six months expired before the mourning was taken down, and the escutcheons hung up in each vestry. The hatchments remained twelve months, and, when taken down, one was placed in the Tabernacle, and the other in the Chapel, over a neat marble monument Mr. Whitefield had erected for his wife, with room left for a few lines respecting himself after his disease, as he purposed lying in the same vault, had he died in England. Accordingly the Rev. Mr. Knight, of Halifax in Yorkshire, drew up the following lines: IN MEMORY OF The Rev. Mr. George WhiteFIELD, A. M. Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Countess of Huntingdon, whose Soul, made meet for Glory, was taken to Immanuel's bosom on the 30th of Sept. 1770; and whose body now lies in the silent Grave at Newburyport, near Boston in NewEngland, there deposited in the hope of a joyful Resurrection to eternal Life and Glory. He was a Man eminent in Piety, of a humane, benevolent and charitable Disposition: his Zeal in the Cause of God was singular, his Labours indefatigable, and his Success in preaching the Gospel, remarkable and astonishing. He departed this Life in the 56th year of his age And, like his Master, was by some despised; Mr. Whitefield was not full fifty-six years of age at the time of his death: thirty-four years of which he spent in the ministry. And if life is to be measured by the greatest activity and enjoyment; such as being always intent upon some good design, and vigorous in the pursuit of it; filling up every day with actions of importance, worthy of a man and a Christian; seeing much of the world, and having a constant flow of the most lively affections, both of the social and religious kind; Mr. Whitefield, in these thirty-four years, may be said to have lived more than most men do, though their lives were prolonged for many ages. CHAP. XXI. A Description of his Person; a Review of his Life; and the most striking Parts of his Character pointed out. HIS person was graceful and well proportioned; his stature rather above the middle size. His complexion was very fair. His eyes were of a dark blue colour, and small, but sprightly. He had a squint with one of them.* His features were in general good and regular. His countenance was manly, and his voice exceeding strong; yet both were softened by an uncommon degree of sweetness. He was always very clean and neat, and often said, plea santly, "that a minister of the gospel ought to be without spot." His deportment was decent and easy, without the least stiffness of formality; and his engaging, polite manner, made his company universally agreeable. In his youth he was very slender, and moved his body with great agility to action, suitable to his discourse; but about the fortieth year of his age he began to grow corpulent, which however was solely the effect of his disease, being always, even to a proverb, remarkable for his moderation both in eating and drinking. Several prints have been done of him, which exhibit a very bad likeness. * Occasioned either by the ignorance or carelessness of the nurse who attended him in the measles, when he was. about four years old. In reviewing the life of this extraordinary man, the following particulars appear very remarkable : First, we are struck with his unwearied diligence in the offices of religion, and his conscientious improvement of every portion of his time. Early in the morning he rose to his Master's work, and all the day long was employed in a continual succession of different duties. Take a view of his public conduct; here he is engaged either in preaching the gospel, in visiting and giving counsel to the afflicted, in instructing the ignorant, or in celebrating the praises of God. Observe his behaviour in private company; there you hear him introducing, upon all occasions, and among all sorts of people, discourse that tended to edification. And if you follow him to his retirements, you see him writing devout meditations upon the occur. rences of the day, or letters to his christian acquaintance, full of piety and zeal. What a gloomy idea must a stranger to vital piety entertain of a life spent in this manner! He will think it must have been not only joyless and disgusting, but intolerably burthensome. Far otherwise did it appear in the experience of this servant of Christ. He felt the greatest enjoyment when engaged in a constant round of social and religious duties. In these, whole weeks passed away like one day. And when he was visited with any distress or affliction, preaching, as he tells us himself, was his catholicon, and prayer his antidote against every trial. The pleasure of a man of business in successfully pushing his trade, or of a philosopher when pursuing his favorite studies, may give us some faint conception of the joys which he felt: yet, so ardent were his desires after the heavenly happiness, that he often longed to finish his work, and to go home to his Saviour.* * "Blessed be God, the prospect of death is pleasant to my soul. I would not live here always. I want to be gone. "Sometimes it arises from a fear of falling; sometimes from a prospect of future labours and sufferings. But these are times when my soul hath such foretastes of God, that I long more eagerly to be with Him; and the prospect of the happiness which the spirits of just men made perfect now enjoy, often carries me, as it were into another world." Again, we are justly surprised at his frequent and fervent preaching under all the disadvantages of a sickly constitution, and the many fits of illness with which he was suddenly seized. It must indeed be confessed, that change of air, frequent travelling on horseback, and the many voy. ages he made, might contribute to the preservation of his health and vigour: but when we consider what exertion of voice was necessary to reach his large congregations; that he preached generally twice or thrice every day, and often four times on the Lord's day; and, above all, what waste of strength and spirits every sermon must have cost him, through the earnestness of his delivery; it is truly astonishing how his constitution could hold out so long.* But there is another circumstance not less remarkable than either of the former, which is, the uncommon desire that all sorts of people expressed to attend his preaching; and that not upon the first or second visit only, but at every succeeding opportunity. Wherever he went, prodigious numbers flocked to hear him. His congregations often consisted of four or five thousand; in populous places they swelled to ten, sometimes fourteen, and upon some occasions the concourse was so great that they have been computed to be from twenty to thirty thousand. It is wonderful to think how he commanded the attention of such multitudes; with what composure they listened when he began to speak; how they hung upon his lips, and were often dissolved in tears; and this was the case with persons of the most hardy and rugged, as well as those of softer tempers. His eloquence was indeed very great, and of the truest and noblest kind. He was utterly devoid of all appearance of affectation. He seemed to be quite unconscious of the talents he possessed. The importance of his subject, and the regard due to his hearers, engrossed all his concern. He spake like one who did not seek their applause, but was concerned for their best interests, and who, from a principle of unfeigned love, earnestly endeavoured to lead them in the right way. And the effect in some measure corresponded to the design. They did not amuse themselves with commending his discourses; but, being per "I preach till I sweat through and through." suaded by what he said, entered into his views, felt his passions, and were willing, for that time at least, to comply with all his requets. This was especially remarkable at his charity sermons,* when the most worldly-minded were made to part with their money in so generous a manner, that when they returned to their former temper they were ready to think that it had been conjured from them by some inexplicable charm. The charm, however, was nothing else than the power of his irresistible eloquence, in which respect it is not easy to say whether he was ever excelled, either in ancient or modern times. He had a strong and musical voice, and a wonderful command of it. His pronunciation was not only proper, but manly and graceful. Nor was he ever at a loss for the most natural and strong expressions. Yet these in him were but lower qualities. The grand sources of his eloquence were, an exceeding lively imagination, which made people think they saw what he described; an action still more lively, if possible, by which, while every accent of his voice spoke to the ear, every feature of his face, every motion of his hands and body, spoke to the eye; so that the most dissipated and thoughtless found their attention involuntarily fixed, and the dullest and most ignorant could not but understand. He had likewise a certain elevation of mind, which raised him equally above praise and censure, and added great authority to whatever he said.† But what was perhaps the most important of all, he had a heart deeply exercised in all the social, as well as pious and religious affections, and was at the same time most remarkably communicative, by which means he was peculiarly fitted to awaken like feelings in others, and to sympathize with every one that had them. This last, some have thought, was the distinguishing * Which he preached for a great many others, besides his own Orphans in Georgia. "The Lord only knows how he will be pleased to dispose of me; great afflictions I am sure of having; and a sudden death, blessed be God, will not be terrible. I know that my Redeemer liveth. I every day long to see Him, that I may be free from the remainder of sin, and enjoy him, without interruption forever." |