amongst the dissenters. I mean, of course, that his preaching talents would have given him no distinction amongst them. Even his pen they did not want. They welcomed his writings, as they do every thing which is spiritual, in common with all the friends of truth and godliness; but they needed them not for themselves. They read and praised them, that the church might profit by them. This is not the case now. Newton is read by them for their own edification also, and because he was eminently useful in the church. Then, they read him that he might be useful, and because there were few Newtons in the church, and still fewer Dartmouths or Thorntons to patronize them.

I have already mentioned Dartmouth's patronage of the college for the American Indians. It is not so generally known, that he was one of the chief patrons of evangelical preaching at the Lock chapel in London. He and Baron Smythe gave the full weight of their rank and influence to that "hill of Zion," on which the dew of heaven has so often and long descended. That influence was not small. Dartmouth stood high at court; and Smythe, besides being the son of Leicester's eldest daughter, was Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer. Both were the particular friends of Venn also. The latter gave him the living of Yelling, in Huntingdonshire; and Lady Smythe bequeathed to his son the advowson of Bidborough, in Kent.

It was thus Lady Huntingdon and Whitefield, leading each other alternately, and always acting together, drew out and brought into notice the little, but faithful, band of clergymen, who became the salt of the church of England. Yes; they found out and brought forward these good men, and won for them the patronage which enabled them to do good, as well as created for them the element in which they lived, moved, and had their being. They were, indeed, " independent students of the word of God;" but methodism made them so. This fact is disputed. It cannot, however, be disproved. Why then should it be called in question? It is as impossible to separate the improvement of the church from the direct influence of Whitefield and Wesley, as to separate her corruptions from the name of Laud.

CHAPTER XXX.

WHITEFIELD'S LAST ITINERACY.

WHILST Whitefield was rejoicing over Georgia, applications were pouring in upon him from all quarters, to hasten again to the cities and wildernesses of America. He hardly knew which call was loudest, or "which way to turn" himself. He went, however, first to Philadelphia, after having preached the gospel fully in Savannah. On his arrival he found, he says, "pulpits, hearts, affections as open and enlarged as ever" towards him. Philadelphia could not have given him a more cordial welcome, had she even foreseen that she was to see his face no more: for all the churches as well as the chapels were willingly opened to him, and all ranks vied in flocking to hear him. This free access to the episcopal churches delighted him much, wherever it occurred. He never fails to record both his gratitude and gratification, when he obtains, on any tour, access even to one church. It always did him good too. I have often been struck with this, whilst tracing his steps. True; he was at home wherever there were souls around him; but he was most at home in a church, except, indeed, when he had a mountain for his pulpit, and the heavens for his sounding-board, and half a county for his congregation. Then, neither St. Paul's nor Westminster had any attractions for him. The fact is, Whitefield both admired and loved the Liturgy. He had the spirit of its compilers and of its best prayers in his own bosom, and therefore it was no form to him. It had been the channel upon which the first mighty spring-tides of his devotion flowed, and the chief medium of his communion with heaven, when he was most successful at Tottenham Court and Bath. All his great

days of the Son of Man" there, were associated with the church service. He was, therefore, most in his element with it; although he was often equally and more successful without it. Accordingly, it would be difficult to say, whether the gospel triumphed most, at this time, in the churches or the chapels of Philadelphia. His prayers for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit went, in an equally "direct line, to heaven,” and were equally answered, whether with or without book.

He was now in such good health and spirits, that he preached twice every sabbath, and three or four times a week, although the heat was setting in. During an excursion of a hundred and fifty miles in the province, also, he was able to preach every day, and to "bear up bravely." Indeed, he was so much "better than he had been for many years," that he indulged the hope of returning to Bethesda in the autumn, and of sailing to England again.

In this state of mind and body he arrived at New York, and found not only "congregations larger than ever," but also such a host of invitations from all quarters, that he sent the bundle to England as a curiosity. These numerous and loud calls. shook his purpose of returning to Georgia in the autumn. "I yet keep to my intended plan," he says, but "perhaps I may not see Georgia until Christmas." A tempting prospect was now held out to him,-of "fresh work," at Albany, Great Burrington, Norfolk, Salisbury, Sharon, and New Windsor. This was rendered irresistible by the offer of Kirkland, the Oneida missionary, to accompany him, and to take him to "a great congress of the Indians." It does not appear, however, that he went to the Oneida congress. There are, indeed, the names of some Indian towns in his notes of this tour, but no mention is made of Indians.

Whitefield, as might be expected, enjoyed much the scenery of the Hudson, during his sail to Albany; especially in the pass between the Catskill mountains, and not less, when he visited the Cohoes, the falls of the Mohawk, at Schenectady. At both, he could only exclaim, "O thou wonder-working God!" (The scenery of America will not long be unknown in Britain. I have seen Bartlett's glorious sketches of it; and some of the en

gravings are now before me, in the same style as those of Beattie's Switzerland, Scotland, and Waldenses. The verbal descriptions, likewise, are equally graphic. The religious public here want such a work, in order to understand and appreciate Reed and Cox, and in order to sympathize with Washington Irving, in their enthusiastic admiration of Transatlantic beauty and sublimity. I need not say that I am not puffing the work, even when I add that it is passing through the press under my own. eye. I have all the reward I wish for, in being the first reader of an illustrative work, worthy of America, and wanted in Britain. It will enable many, like myself, to trace with the eyes of the understanding, the steps of Brainerd and Whitefield, of Reed and Cox, and of all tourists who are worth following.)

I am unable to point out Whitefield's route from Albany back to New York. It embraced a circuit of more than five hundred miles, and occupied him during the whole of the month of July. All that he himself records of it—and it is the last entry in his memoranda-is, "Heard afterwards that the word ran and was glorified. Grace, grace!" His last letter but one to his friend Keene, is a little more explicit. "All fresh work where I have been. Congregations have been very large, attentive, and affected. The divine influence hath been as at first. Oh what a scene of usefulness is opening in various parts of the new world! Invitations crowd upon me both from ministers and people, and from many, many quarters. A very peculiar providence led me lately to a place where a horse-stealer was executed. Thousands attended. The poor criminal had sent me several letters, on hearing I was in the country. The sheriff allowed him to come and hear a sermon under an adjacent tree. Solemn, solemn! After being by himself about an hour-I walked half a mile with him to the gallows. An instructive walk! His heart had been softened before my first visit.—I went up with him into the cart. He gave a short exhortation. I then stood on the coffin; added, I trust, a word in season, Effectual good, I trust, was done.

prayed, and took my leave. Grace, grace!"

From New York he went to Boston, in the middle of Sep

tember; and again had to say, "Never was the word received with greater eagerness than now. All opposition seems to cease for a while. I never was carried through the summer's heat so well." All this encouraged him to start again upon another circuit. He therefore went to Newbury; but was obliged to return suddenly, in consequence of an attack of cholera in the night. Still, he was not alarmed for his general health. He soon rallied again, and set off to New Hampshire, to "begin to begin," as he said, anew!

I have now to transcribe the last letter he wrote to England. It is dated from Portsmouth, seven days before he died, and addressed to his friend Keene, one of the managers of the Tabernacle. "My very dear friend, you will see by the many invitations, what a door is opened for preaching the everlasting gospel. I was so ill on Friday, that I could not preach, although thousands were waiting to hear. Well; the day of release will shortly come ;-but it does not scem yet; for, by riding sixty miles, I am better, and hope to preach here to-morrow. I trust my blessed Master will accept of these poor efforts to serve him. Oh for a warm heart! Oh to stand fast in the faith, to quit ourselves like men, and be strong!" This prayer was answered, but his hope" to see all dear friends, about the time proposed," was not realized.

At Portsmouth, however, he preached daily, from the 23rd to the 29th of September, besides once at Kittery and Old York. On Saturday morning, September 29, he set out for Boston; but before he came to Newbury Port, where he had engaged to preach next morning, he was importuned to preach by the way at Exeter. At the last he preached in the open air, to accommodate the multitudes that came to hear him, no house being able to contain them. He continued his discourse near two hours, by which he was greatly fatigued; notwithstanding which, in the afternoon, he set off for Newbury Port, where he arrived that evening, and soon after retired to rest, being Saturday night, fully intent on preaching the next day. His rest was much broken, and he awoke many times in the night, and complained very much of an oppression at his lungs, breathing with much difficulty. And at length, about six o'clock on