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 about four or five thousand; in populous places they swelled to ten thousand; sometimes fourteen thousand; and upon some occasions, the concourse was so great, that they have been computed to amount 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 the softer tempers.

It will be remembered that he encountered severe trials and opposition on his first entrance into Scotland, because he refused assent to certain notions of church discipline. While the dignitaries were denouncing him as fanatical, he rode triumphantly through all opposition. His amenity and warmth of disposition, aided by his mighty eloquence, enabled him to rise before auditories that had just heard him reviled, and silence his detractors by the emphatic rebuke implied in an admiring audience. The following account, chiefly in his own language, is a true record of his triumphs, and will conduct us at once to consider their origin-his unparalleled eloquence.

Coming as a stranger into Scotland, and being free from all local prejudice and passion upon the subject, Whitefield saw the folly and the mischief of the schisms in which his new acquaintance were engaged. They spared no pains to win him over to their side. "I find," said he, "Satan now turns himself into an angel of light, and stirs up God's children to tempt me to come over to some particular party." To one of his correspondents he replies, "I wish you would not trouble yourself or me in writing about the corruption of the Church of England. I believe there is no church perfect under heaven; but as God, by his providence, is pleased to send me forth simply to preach the gospel to all, I think there is no need of casting myself out." He was invited to Aberdeen by the minister of one of the kirks in that city; but the minister's co-pastor had prepossessed the magistrates against him, so that when he arrived, they refused to let him preach in the kirk-yard. They had, however, sufficient curiosity to attend when he officiated in his friend's pulpit; the congregation was very large, and, in Whitefield's own words, "light and life fled all around." In the afternoon it was the other pastor's turn: he began his

prayers as usual; but, in the midst of them, he named Whitefield personally, whom he knew to be then present, and entreated the Lord to forgive the dishonor that had been put upon him, when that man was suffered to preach in that pulpit. Not satisfied with this, he renewed the attack in his sermon, reminded his congregation that this person was a curate of the Church of England, and quoted some passages from his first printed discourses, which he said were grossly Arminian. "Most of the congregation," says Whitefield, "seemed surprised and chagrined, especially the good natured colleague; who, immediately after sermon, without consulting me in the least, stood up, and gave notice that Mr. Whitefield would preach in about half an hour. The interval being so short, the magistrates returned into the session house, and the congregation patiently waited, big with expectation of hearing my resentment. At the time appointed, I went up, and took no other notice of the good man's ill-timed zeal, than to observe, in some part of my discourse, that if the good old gentleman had seen some of my later writings, wherein I had corrected several of my former mistakes, he would not have expressed himself in such strong terms. The people, being thus diverted from controversy with man, were deeply impressed with what they heard from the word of God. All was hushed, and more than solemn. And on the morrow the magistrates sent for me, expressed themselves quite concerned at the treatment I had met with, and begged I would accept of the freedom of the city."

This triumph Whitefield obtained, as much by that perfect self command, which he always possessed in public, as by his surprising oratory. But wherever he could obtain a hearing, his preaching was triumphant, and his success in Scotland was, in some respects, greater than it had yet been in England. "Glory be to God," he says, "he is doing great things here. I walk in the continual sunshine of his countenance. Congregations consist of many thousands. Never did I see so many Bibles, nor people look into them, when I am expounding, with such attention. Plenty of tears flow from the hearers' eyes. I preach twice daily, and expound at private houses at night; and am employed in speaking to souls under distress great part of the day. Every morning I have a constant levee of wounded souls, many of whom are quite slain by the law. At seven in the morning (this was at Edinburgh) we have a lecture in the fields, attended not only by the common people, but persons of great rank. I have reason to think several of the latter sort are coming to Jesus. I am only afraid lest people should idolize the instrument, and not look enough to the glorious Jesus, in whom alone I desire to glory. I walk continu

ally in the comfort of the Holy Ghost. The love of Christ' quite strikes me dumb. O grace, grace! let that be my song." In Scotland it was that he first found access to people of rank. "Saints," says he, "have been stirred up and edified; and many others, I believe, are translated from darkness to light, and from the kingdom of Satan to the kingdom of God. The good that has been done is inexpressible. I am intimate with three noblemen and several ladies of quality, who have a great liking for the things of God. I am now writing in an earl's house, surrounded with fine furniture; but, glory be to free grace, my soul is in love only with Jesus." " he

"Yesterday,"

His exertions increased with his success. says, "I preached three times, and lectured at night. This day Jesus has enabled me to preach seven times; once in the church, twice at the girl's hospital, once in the park, once at the old people's hospital, and afterwards twice at a private house; notwithstanding, I am now as fresh as when I arose in the morning. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount on wings like eagles.' It would delight your soul to see the effects of the power of God. Both in the church and park the Lord was with us. The girls in the hospital were exceedingly affected, and so were the standers by. One of the mistresses told me, she is now awakened in the morning by the voice of prayer and praise; and the master of the boys says, that they meet together every night to sing and pray; and when he goes to their rooms at night, to see if all be safe, he generally disturbs them at their devotions. The presence of God at the old people's hospital, was really very wonderful. The Holy Spirit seemed to come down like a mighty rushing wind. The mourning of the people was like the weeping in the valley of Hadad-Rimmon. They appear more and more hungry. Every day I hear of some fresh good wrought by the power of God. I scarce know how to leave Scotland."

The representation thus given by this remarkable man, of the effect which his preaching produced upon all ranks and descriptions of people, is not exaggerated. Dr. Franklin has justly observed, that it would have been fortunate for his reputation if he had left no written works; his talents would then have been estimated by the effect which they are known to have produced; for, on this point, there is the evidence of witnesses whose credibility cannot be disputed. Whitefield's writings afford merely the measure of his knowledge and of his intellect, but not of his genius as a preacher. His printed sermons, instead of being, as is usual, the most elaborate and finished discourses of their author, have indeed the disadvan

tage of being precisely those upon which the least care had been bestowed. This may be easily explained.

"By hearing him often," says Franklin, "I came to distinguish easily between sermons newly composed, and those which he had often preached in the course of his travels. His delivery of the latter was so improved by frequent repetition, that every accent, every emphasis, every modulation of voice, was so perfectly well turned, and well placed, that, without being interested in the subject, one could not help being pleased with the discourse: a pleasure of much the same kind with that received from an excellent piece of music. This is an advantage itinerant preachers have over those who are stationary, as the latter cannot well improve their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals." It was a great advantage, but it was not the only one, nor the greatest which he derived from repeating his discourses, and reciting instead of reading them. Had they been delivered from a written copy, one delivery would have been like the last; the paper would have operated like a spell, from which he could not depart-invention sleeping, while the utterance followed the eye. But when he had nothing before him except the audience whom he was addressing, the judgment and the imagination, as well as the memory, were called forth. Those parts were omitted which had been felt to come feebly from the tongue, and fall heavily upon the ear, and their place was supplied by matter newly laid in in the course of his studies, or fresh from the feeling of the moment. They who lived with him, could trace him in his sermons to the book which he had last been reading, or the subject which had recently taken his attention. But the salient points of his oratory were not prepared passages, they were bursts of passion, like jets from a Geyser, when the spring is in full play.

The theatrical talent which he displayed in boyhood, manifested itself strongly in his oratory. When he was about to preach, whether it was from a pulpit, or a table in the streets, or a rising ground, he appeared with a solemnity of manner, and an anxious expression of countenance, that seemed to show how deeply he was possessed with a sense of the importance of what he was about to say. His elocution was perfect. They who heard him most frequently, could not remember that he ever stumbled at a word, or hesitated for want of He never faltered, unless when the feeling to which he had wrought himself overcame him, and then his speech 'was interrupted by a flow of tears. Sometimes he would appear to lose all self-command, and weep exceedingly, and stamp loudly and passionately; and sometimes the emotion of his mind exhausted him, and the beholders felt a momentary apprehension

one.

even for his life. And, indeed, it is said, that the effect of his vehemence upon his bodily frame was tremendous; that he usually vomited after he had preached, and sometimes discharged, in this manner, a considerable quantity of blood. But this was when the effort was over, and nature was left at leisure to relieve herself. While he was on duty, he controlled all sense of infirmity or pain, and made his advantage of the passion to which he had given way. "You blame me for weeping," he would say, "but how can I help it, when you will not weep for yourselves, though your immortal souls are upon the verge of destruction, and, for aught I know, you are hearing your last sermon, and may never more have an opportunity to have Christ offered to you!"

Sometimes he would set before his congregation the agony of our Savior, as though the scene was actually before them. "Look yonder!" he would say, stretching out his hand, and pointing as he spoke, "what is that I see? It is my agonizing Lord! Hark, hark! do you not hear?-O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me! nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done!" This he introduced frequently in his sermons; and one who lived with him says, the effect was not destroyed by repetition; even to those who knew what was coming, it came as forcibly as if they had never heard it before. In this respect it was like fine stage acting; and indeed Whitefield indulged in a histrionic manner of preaching, which would have been offensive if it had not been rendered admirable by his natural gracefulness and inimitable power. Sometimes, at the close of a sermon, he would personate a judge about to perform the last awful part of his office. With his eyes full of tears, and an emotion that made his speech falter, after a pause which kept the whole audience in breathless expectation of what was to come, he would say, "I am now going to put on my condemning cap. Sinner, I must do it: I must pronounce sentence upon you!" and then, in a tremendous strain of eloquence, describing the eternal punishment of the wicked, he recited the words of Christ, "Depart from me ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." When he spoke of St. Peter, how, after the cock crew, he went out and wept bitterly, he had a fold of his gown ready, in which he hid his face.

Perfect as it was, histrionism like this would have produced no lasting effect upon the mind, had it not been for the unaffected earnestness, and the indubitable sincerity of the preacher, which equally characterized his manner, whether he rose to the height of passion in his discourse, or won the attention of the motley crowd by the introduction of familiar stories and