of folly. Great, therefore, was their consternation, when they saw her, after hearing Whitefield, lay all her honours and influence at the foot of the cross. Even the king forgot royal decorum so far as to laugh aloud in her face, at the simplicity of her dress. There was nothing to laugh at in it, but the chasteness of its beauty. Chesterfield himself had bought it at great expense on the continent; and the earl had certainly quite as much taste as the king.

Pulteney, also, the Earl of Bath, and the well known political antagonist of Sir Robert Walpole, was deeply impressed under Whitefield's ministry, at the same time as the Countess of Chesterfield. He attended Tottenham Court chapel regularly for some years, and was a munificent benefactor to the orphan-house. Both Lady Huntingdon and Lady Fanny Shirley were his intimate friends. Whatever, therefore, may be thought of his political character, he must have been rather more than moral, to have secured their esteem. But amongst the peers, none stood higher in Whitefield's estimation, for piety or prudence, than Lord Dartmouth. George III. confirmed this estimate of Dartmouth's character. Queen Charlotte also thought him "one of the best of men." The king said to Dr. Beattie, the essayist on Truth, "They call his lordship an enthusiast; but surely he says nothing on the subject of religion but what any Christian may and ought to say." John Newton thought so. Dartmouth was his patron and to him he addressed the first twenty-six letters of the "Cardiphonia." It was a fit return. Newton had been refused ordination by the Archbishop of York: (not a very arch refusal certainly!) and Dartmouth prevailed on Dr. Green, the Bishop of Lincoln, to ordain him; and then gave him the curacy of Olney. How much the church of Christ owes to this act of kindness! Newton's early association with the dissenters, and his Methodism, would have shut him out of the church for it was well known, that Brewer of Stepney recommended him to the dissenters of Warwick, on the removal of Ryland, as a probationer. He preached also in Yorkshire amongst the dissenters. This accounts for the archbishop's refusal. Newton forgot as well as forgave him; but he never forgot or concealed his connexion with Warwick. Long after his settlement at Olney, he often said, "The very name of Warwick makes my heart leap with joy. There my mouth was first opened. There I met some sweet encouragement on my entrance into the ministry." Thus he loved the

people, although he had been an unsuccessful candidate. It is well he was so! He would have been lost 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 occurrred. 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 Barrington, 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 engravings 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, prayed, and took my leave. Effectual good, I trust, was done. Grace, grace!"

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