Mr. Bell and the Saviour. This story appeared to me so incredible at the first hearing, that, though I could not doubt the veracity of the relater, yet fearing he might be misinformed, I sent for him again, and he assured me, that Mr. Bell told this story himself some time ago in company, and a person of good reputation of that company related it to an acquaintance of mine. May God grant him and all others who have been undesignedly concerned, a more sure and stable prop for their faith, even his own word, in which he causes his people to trust! Then, and not till then, even upon the greatest emergency, they may without any fanciful representations, boldly say, Who art thou, O great mountain? before the Lord Jesus, our all-conquering Zerubbabel, thou shalt become a plain.'

"The distress and anguish of mind that hundreds have been involved in upon this very account, is, I believe, unspeakable. And the bare reflection upon it, whilst I am writing, makes my heart almost to bleed within me. Who, who, but themselves, my lord, can tell the late perplexity of their minds, who have been already arrested, or obliged to break off their respective partnerships? Or what words can express the great concern which Mr. Freeman and Mr. Thomas Grace must have been necessarily under, when they found that bills had been drawn in their name, unknown to them, to the value of forty-eight thousand pounds? And how pitiable, my lord, must the present circumstances of young Mr. Rhodes be, who, to stop a little of the above-mentioned gap, was prevailed on, (your lordship knows by whom,) about eighteen months ago, to sell his estate of above four hundred pounds a year, and went or was sent off very lately, as I am assured, to France, (leaving a destitute mother behind him,) and only with twentyfive pounds, for the payment of which he left his watch, bureau, horse, and saddle!

"These are but a few instances, my lord, amongst many, indeed, too, too many, that might be given. The brethren's agents, and those concerned with them, can best tell what what horrid equivocations, untruths, and low artifices have been used, to procure money, at high interest, wherever it was to be had, in order to keep up the brethren's credit; and in that poor, lame manner, it hath been kept up for a considerable time. Was the whole scene to be opened, I believe every one would be of opinion, that such an ecclesiastical

project never was heard of before in any part of his Majesty's dominions.

"Of this, my lord, the Royal Exchange hath long since. rung; and if the same part hath been acted abroad, how many families must have been ruined there, and how many more may yet be ruined, in order to fill up the present English chasm; and consequently, what loads of guilt must needs lie at the door of somebody! Surely, the Lord of all lords, whose eyes are like a flame of fire, and who requires truth in the inward parts, will one day or other visit for these things, by bringing to light the hidden things of darkness, and thereby making manifest the counsels of the heart!

"I need not inform your lordship, that Babels are generally suffered to be built pretty high, before God comes down to confound the language of the builders. If knaves are employed, (as commonly they are,) God's honour is concerned to discover them. And if any of his own children are undesignedly drawn in, (which is frequently the case,) He, who hath promised not to suffer them to be tempted above what they are able to bear, will, in mercy, some way or other, rebuke the tempter, and make a way for them to escape. It is true, this, in public concerns, may sometimes expose them to a little worldly contempt, and for a while they may seemingly be crushed under the rubbish of the fallen fabric, but even this shall work together for their good; and happy will it be for them, if, after all, they at length learn this important lesson, "That it is dangerous, upon any pretence whatsoever, to go from the written word, or give up their consciences to the guidance of any man, or body of men, under heaven.' This, your lordship well knows, is what weak and unstable souls are too apt to do; and artful and designing men, who are fond of power, especially if naturally they are of an ambitious turn of mind, easily catch at the pleasing bait. But honesty, my lord, will be found to be the best policy after all; and, therefore, God forbid that any who call themselves the followers of the Lamb, should glory in any thing save the cross of Christ.

"At present, I shall add no more, but earnestly say Amen, to that part of the brethren's litany, however exceptionable in other respects, From untimely projects, and from unhappily becoming great, keep us, our good Lord and God !'"

This controversy had one effect, which Whitefield did not anticipate, nor can I fully explain; it led Cennick to quit him, and to go over to the Moravians: a proof, however, that the

Moravians, as a body, were not perverted by their leaders. A large party went over with Cennick on this occasion, amongst whom was Mrs. Greenfield, one of Queen Caroline's ladies. She is the person called in Whitefield's Letters, "one of Cæsar's household." He visited her at St. James's Palace, and found her "ready to show out." Indeed she had; for the palace was then ringing about her. But whilst he thought she would make a glorious martyr, if she stood firm, he saw the peril of her position, and said to her friend Lady Huntingdon, "Till Mrs. Greenfield can ineet with company really in earnest, the closer she keeps to her God and her book the better." She retired from the court on a pension; and though she joined the Moravians, she continued to correspond with Whitefield, and to hear him at the house of the Countess. She also parted with her favourite servant, to furnish the Tabernacle house at Bristol with a suitable house-keeper. I ought to add, that Whitefield's letter to Zinzendorff, “cured many of the fopperies and faults it exposed.",

CHAPTER XXII.

WHITEFIELD'S INFLUENCE IN AMERICA.

FIRST PART.

WHITEFIELD'S former visits to America, although not unwelcome to her spiritual churches, were, in some measure, unsought for by them, as churches. I mean, he consulted his own sense of duty, and the interest of his orphan-house, and the urgency of private friends, rather than public opinion, on either side of the Atlantic. On the present occasion, besides his ordinary reasons for ranging America, he had many pressing invitations" to cross-plough" his old grounds, and to water where he had planted. He had also a home reason. He wished to come back upon England and Scotland again, in the power of an American unction; a savour he had found to be "of life unto life," in all his movements through his native land. Hence he said on his voyage, “After a short tour through America, I hope to see my native country, and begin to begin to ramble after poor sinners again." It was there he learned to range, and there he discovered how much he could range, as well as how much good ranging did; and therefore he was unwilling to forget the lesson. And no wonder. Had he not hunted in the American woods and wilds, he would not have done nor dared what he attempted at home. Indeed, every foreign place was a school, where he studied for home. And he was an apt scholar. It must have been a strange place indeed, where Whitefield could pick up nothing useful. Every where his maxim was, "I would fain be one of Christ's bees, and learn to extract honey from every flower; "—whilst every where his feeling was, "Alas, I am a drone, and deserve to be stung out of God's hive."

He arrived in safety with his orphans at Bethesda, after an easy voyage; and found himself at the head of a family of a

hundred and six members, "black and white," all dependent upon his personal efforts and influence. But he had no fears. He regarded his charge as a stewardship of Providence, and hoped and begged accordingly, nothing doubting. Having arranged his household, he started to his work, and traversed Carolina. It was now high summer, and besides the oppressive heat, "great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains,” frequently beat upon him as he journeyed from town to town; but his health improved and his spirits rose as he advanced. One reason of this was that he chiefly travelled by night. “In spite of thunder, lightning, rain, and heat, God is pleased," he says, "to hold my soul in life, and to let me see his glorious work prosper in my unworthy hands." One part of this prosperity was, the conversion of a clergyman, and the prospect of a faithful successor to Smith at Charleston-from Bethesda! This was the first student sent forth from the orphan-house. I can give no account of him: but he must have had considerable ministerial talent, to commend himself to Josiah Smith's flock. The reader remembers his sermon on Whitefield's character.

Having "fully preached the gospel" in the regions of Carolina, he went to New-York and Philadelphia, and found at both, "prejudices removed, and a more effectual door, than ever," for labour. At this time, however, he seems to have lost his horse; and thus to have been dependent upon his friends for conveyances. He had been so before, and remembered that neither all horses nor all drivers were alike. To one of his former whips he wrote, "You must bring a chaise ;-I have no horse ;-I will once more venture your throwing me down." This was on the way to Philadelphia. There he was thrown down suddenly, but not from a chaise. He was seized "with a violent cholera morbus," and soon brought to the gates of death. He had, he said, " all his cables out, ready to cast anchor within the port" of eternity; but he was soon "at sea again ; although only able to preach once a day for some time. When he was himself again, and looked at the "glorious range for hunting in the American woods," he was at a loss what hand to go to: "Affection, intense affection, cries aloud, Away to New England, dear New England, directly. Providence, and the circumstances of the southern provinces, point directly to Virginia." Whilst thus undecided, he visited his old friend Governor Belcher, and found him an improved and ripening pilgrim, now willing to depart and be with Christ.