WHITEFIELD'S LIFE AND TIMES.

CHAPTER I.

WHITEFIELD'S EARLY LIFE, EDUCATION, AND ORDINATION.

"I Was born in Gloucestershire, in the month of December, 1714. My father and mother kept the Bell Inn." In this unassuming manner Whitefield commences a brief memoir of himself. It will not, however, be uninteresting to add some particulars respecting his family. His great-grandfather, the Rev. Samuel Whitefield, born at Wantage, in Berkshire, was rector of North Ledyard, in Wiltshire, and afterwards of Rockhampton. In the latter charge he was succeeded by his son, Samuel, who died without issue. Two of his daughters were married to clergymen. Andrew, Whitefield's grandfather, was a private gentleman, and lived retired upon his estate. He had fourteen children; Thomas, the eldest, was the father of the Rev. George Whitefield. Mr. Thomas Whitefield was bred to the business of a wine merchant, in Bristol, but afterwards kept an inn in the city of Gloucester. While in Bristol he married Miss Elizabeth Edwards, a lady related to the families of Blackwell and Dinmour, of that city. He had six sons, of whom George was the youngest, and one daughter.

Concerning his father and mother, Whitefield writes: "The former died when I was two years old; the latter is now alive,

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(she died in December, 1751, in the 71st year of her age,) and has often told me how she endured fourteen weeks' sickness, after she brought me into the world; but was used to say, even when I was an infant, that she expected more comfort from me than from any other of her children. This, with the circumstance of my being born in an inn, has been often of service to me, in exciting my endeavours to make good my mother's expectations, and so follow the example of my dear Saviour, who was born in a manger belonging to an inn."

This amiable solicitude to realize his mother's "expectations," is the more worthy of notice, because, whatever she was as a mother, she was not distinguished as a christian. This seems more than implied in the following lamentation, extracted from one of his letters: "Why is my honoured mother so solicitous about a few paltry things, that will quickly perish? Why will she not come and see her youngest son, who will endeavour to be a Joseph to her, before she dies?" Such was his suspense in regard to the spiritual state of his parent; and yet he gratefully owns the salutary influence of her maternal hopes upon his mind, and, while afar off on the Atlantic, commemorates her tenderness. "My mother was very careful of my education, and always kept me, in my tender years, (for which I never can sufficiently thank her,) from intermeddling in the least with the tavern business." (This paragraph was written on board the Elizabeth, during the voyage to Philadelphia.) Now these acknowledgments were penned during the heat of his zeal and the height of his popularity; at a period when recent converts are prone to speak with harshness of their unconverted relatives, and to sink the child in the champion towards them. This is so common, and, to say nothing of its cruelty, so unwise, that I could not record this pleasing exception, without holding it up to general imitation. "The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle towards all,-apt to teach,-patient; in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God, peradventure, will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth."

Whitefield's humiliating recollections of his own early and inveterate opposition to "the truth," contributed, no doubt, to

moderate his natural impatience towards others. The following is his own narrative of that period.

"My infant years must necessarily not be mentioned; yet I can remember such early stirrings of corruption in my heart, as abundantly convince me that I was conceived and born in sin; that in me dwelleth no good thing by nature; and that, if God had not freely prevented me by his grace, I must have been for ever banished from his presence. I was so brutish as to hate instruction; and used, purposely, to shun all opportunities of receiving it. I soon gave pregnant proofs of an impudent temper. Lying, filthy talking, and foolish jesting, I was much addicted to, even when very young. Sometimes I used to curse, if not swear. Stealing from my mother I thought no theft at all, and used to make no scruple of taking money out of her pockets before she was up. I have frequently betrayed my trust, and have more than once spent money I took in the house, in buying fruit, tarts, &c. to satisfy my sensual appetite. Numbers of sabbaths have I broken, and generally used to behave myself very irreverently in God's sanctuary. Much money have I spent in plays, and in the common amusements of the Cards, and reading romances, were my heart's delight. Often have I joined with others in playing roguish tricks; but was generally, if not always, happily detected: for this I have often since, and do now, bless and praise God."

This enumeration of youthful vices and follies, is certainly minute, and, in one sense, gratuitous; but, when the spirit and design of the confessions are duly weighed, no man will venture to laugh at them, except those who regard sin as a "light matter." Every candid mind must be conscious of seeing itself in young Whitefield, "as in a glass;" and every spiritual mind will not fail to deplore these early exhibitions of depravity, nor to mark this modern exemplification of an ancient truth, “Thou makest me to possess the iniquities of my youth." (Job xiii. 26.) Were these acknowledgments written in the spirit, or for the same purpose, as Rousseau's unblushing "Confessions," I should despise myself, as well as insult the public, were I inclined to transcribe them. Were they even calculated to suggest the bare idea of uncommon sins, I should not have hesitated to