THE early days of this remarkable man were spent amid the uninteresting surroundings of a house called "The Bell Inn," in Gloucester. He was the youngest of seven children, and had only one sister. He lost his father when only two years of age, but the business was continued under his mother's care. She was anxious to give George a good education, and for this, the free Grammar School of his native town afforded every opportunity. Being quick to learn, the boy made rapid progress, so it was with no small reluctance that he was compelled to relinquish his studies at the age of fifteen, and, in obedience to his mother, seek to assist her at home. Think of the altered life for a lad who loved books!-to turn from mental culture in school-life, not only to domestic work, but to sell beer, and wait upon the people who drank it.
Poor boy! he felt the contrast keenly, and was wont to steal away into any retired place he could find, to enjoy the companionship of some favorite work. Dramatic reading suited his tastes at that time, for he knew not God, nor understood the evil of his own heart. He had not been more than a year thus occupied, when his mother transferred the care of the inn to her eldest son, but poor George obtained no change of employment thereby. His aversion to the work was heightened by the presence of his sister-in-law, instead of his mother, and the boy continued unhappy. He had no alternative, however, for a time, but God's eye was watching him, till the moment arrived for deliverance from such uncongenial surroundings. Another brother who lived in Bristol, asked George to spend a little time with him there, and the invitation was gladly accepted. Some preaching to which he listened, while in that city, impressed him greatly, but the only immediate effect visible upon him, was that he began to write sermons, and thought of becoming a clergyman. His studies thus took a religious turn, but he did not know Christ yet, so he could only endeavor "to make a fair show in the flesh.”
Returning to his mother's house in Gloucester, he there met with a young man who had been at school with him, but who was at that time studying at Oxford. He was occupied in waiting upon other students, and for this work received a sufficient equivalent to enable him to meet the expenses of his own education with them. When George heard that in this position of servitor, he might maintain himself while pursuing a course of study, as his old school-mate was doing, he began to think about applying for such a post. His mother agreed, and preparatory to the university training, George went again to the old familiar school, to spend his time over Latin and Greek, till he could be received at Oxford.
His mother aided in the project, and at eighteen years of age, the desired opening was obtained through her efforts, and her next care was how to provide a suitable outfit, and traveling expenses.
Sufficient for these needs was lent by a friend, and bright with hope, young Whitfield diligently began his studies at the university, He soon repaid all the expectations which were centered in him, by applying himself, with great energy of purpose, to his books.
Charles and John Wesley were then studying at Oxford, and had gathered around them some religious companions, who were wont to meet together for mutual help and encouragement. Whitfield soon heard of this little company, and longed much to get acquainted with the two brothers, who were thus seeking to influence others for good. After he had been in Oxford about a year, a circumstance occurred, which brought him into contact with these young men, in a very simple way. Becoming interested in the sad case of a poor woman who had endeavored to commit suicide, he wished much to help her morally, but knew not how to set to work. He thought of Charles Wesley as the most suitable person to advise, and therefore sent to inquire, if he would see her. The messenger was directed not to give Whitefield's name, but did so, and the result was an invitation from Wesley, to breakfast with him next morning.
Whitefield gladly responded, for he was secretly longing for spiritual help, and this, he thought, he might obtain from these earnest men. They were kind to him, lending books which were helpful at the time, but, like a true-hearted soul, Whitefield did not stop to measure himself by his friends, for he pressed on, till he knew more than they. He planted his feet on a divine foundation, when that truth laid hold of his soul in power "Ye must be born again." He was not ashamed to write to his relations, telling of the necessity of the new birth, nor feared to press the same on others.
Though greatly opposed by many, George Whitefield made his soul's salvation his one care, and unmoved by man's disapproval, gave himself to such work as he thought would please God. The "sick or in prison," received his attention, so did the poor and needy, in other quiet ways. He had some reproach to bear on account of his zeal, because being poor, and in earnest, he was disliked, and spoken against, by those who were rich, and lived in ease. Moreover he endeavored to bear all that came upon him as for Christ's sake, remembering that He will abundantly make up for all that His disciples may give up for Him.
In spite of George Whitfield's devotion, however, he was not yet at rest, for he had not learned a full salvation, in God's simple, perfect way, but was really laboring to reach it. He made known his state of unrest to his respected friend, Charles Wesley, for, finding out the evil of his own heart to be incurable, according to the scriptures, he longed for deliverance from its power. Had he turned direct to God, he would have been encouraged, but by reading the books they lent to him, he only got further astray, and grew disheartened in his search for light. Endeavoring to follow the rules given in these, the poor seeking soul only got deeper and deeper into the mud of human imagination, of which man is so foolishly vain.
Whitefield's days were, at this stage, spent in prostration of body, and a forced humiliation, in the futile hope of reaching God's free gift in this way. He had not yet learned "That no flesh should glory in his presence;" for his constant cry was for a better heart. God's answer to the suppliant showed him how ineffectual all his efforts must be to remedy that which God had condemned and judged in the death of His beloved Son.
Whitefield sought to conquer his will according to the instructions given in the books he read, and thus hoped to obtain salvation. Alas, that unbelief should so deprive many an earnest soul of that divine deliverance which is the practical consequence of knowing that the believer has died with Christ! Not only that Christ has suffered for sins, but that, in his death, everything belonging to the flesh has gone from God's sight, in the perfect oblivion of the grave. The soul which knows this truth practically, no longer vainly seeks to master or keep in check the will, but refuses to own it at all.
Another of these false religious rules was, to remain in the seclusion of his room, till he could come up to a certain standard which was set before his mind. Rigidly following out every regulation laid down in his books, the poor misguided soul was only plunged deeper into darkness and distress, by the deceit- fullness of his natural heart. Many painful efforts were made, such as fasting, praying out in the cold at night, preserving an unusual silence, and similar religious follies, but all was in vain. His beloved friends, Charles and John Wesley, sought to dissuade him from such foolish doings, but he heeded them not, and thought it right to give up their hitherto valued company.
At last, the hand of God was gently laid upon him, and this divine chastening sufficed to draw the weak and ignorant sufferer to a knowledge of God's love in Christ. For weeks and months, he thus learned in the school of God, and then his soul emerged from the mists of earth, into the brightness of a new and divine position, for George Whitefield had, at length, obtained peace in believing.
When convalescent, the young man went to his own home, and there gave himself to the study of the word of God. Then he began to feed upon Christ, and his soul learned the liberty which results from the ungrieved action of the Holy Spirit. All seemed new, and he owned now that a few weeks' study of the Scriptures, taught him more than all the writings of man he had ever perused. Whitefield found out too, what it was to have God's thoughts instead of his own, thus tasting the sweetness of communion.
But we must now take our leave of the boy George, for at this stage, he had reached the years of manhood, and the restless strivings of his youth gave place to active faith, in riper years. Ere long, he awoke the British Isles by the earnestness of his gospel preaching and burning love for souls. The power of God was with him, and in days when open-air gatherings for the gospel were rarely to be seen, Whitefield's zeal brought thousands to listen, and many to be blessed. Multitudes of souls dead in sin were reached, and numbers of sleeping Christians woke up, to find that God expects reality.
Thus George Whitefield became an honored servant of the living God—a man in earnest, having one purpose in life, and he nobly fulfilled his aim. Willing to be anything that he might win souls for Christ, he was an out-and-out man in his onward course, and the seal of God's approval of his faithfulness was given in the awakening of thousands to a sense of their need. Wherever he turned his steps with God's glad tidings, in England, Scotland, Ireland or Wales, multitudes flocked to listen, and hung with marked attention on his wonderful message from God. Across the wide Atlantic too, he carried the glad news, bringing blessing to souls, not only in America, but on board the vessel that carried him thither.
Beautiful indeed is the picture presented to our minds by the record of his voyage, and the manifest tokens of the power of God, in a man who burned with love for precious souls! When he set sail from England, he found himself in the company of unbelieving ones, godless, indifferent, and hardened, to whom his only opportunity of testimony was a turn of the head, and a look towards some sinner more bold than the rest. He had not even a quiet spot where he could be alone with God, and preaching, or even reading with those on board, seemed, to the natural eye, well-nigh impossible.
“According to your faith be it unto you," is a divine principle for blessing between the needy soul and a giving God. Whitefield expected blessing, and the Lord gave it, first a retired place for prayer, then a way to the hearts of many, and eventually opportunities in which to minister to the sick, and the frequent preaching of the gospel, till the blessing of the Lord had spread over the ship. Looking back on this voyage, he thus wrote in after years: "A consciousness that I had in view the glory of God, and the good of souls, from time to time, afforded me unspeakable satisfaction.”
This is only one example, among many, of the way in which Whitefield began on barren soil, laboring with God, in patient perseverance, till the blessing came down in rich abundance through the Word. At Bristol, his open-air preaching to twenty thousand colliers, moved hearts there, and melted to tears multitudes unaccustomed to weep and mourn over sin. In other large cities and towns, he attracted immense crowds, always to pour forth the burden of his heart, which was the need of lost and ruined souls—“Ye must be born again.”
Whitefield was greatly ridiculed because of the constant reiteration of this all-important truth, and if he knew popularity, he also experienced persecution. Attempts were even made to take his life, but he could afterward rejoice that curiosity to see the preacher on whose life murderous hands had been laid, only brought an increase of numbers to hear the gospel. Thus lived and labored a devoted man, till in the fifty-sixth year of his age, he entered into rest on the 30th September, 1770. Though long in a condition of weakness, even the last day spent on earth found him sounding forth the glad tidings of salvation, from lips so soon to be sealed in death.
“They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and ever.”