need not illustrate it at length, that much was effected by every one seeing that he always forgot himself in his subject, and rested only on heaven for success. He felt himself called to serve Christ, and gave himself to his task, to save sinners, and he cared for nothing else. No one ever doubted his sincerity when he prayed, "Help me, Friend of sinners, to be nothing, to say nothing, that thou mayest say and do every thing, and be my all in all." If the same feelings were fully shown by the ministry at present, our messages would tell more on the hearts of our hearers.

We need hardly remind the reader that Whitefield was remarkable for a devotional spirit. Probably no man ever lived nearer to God. Had he been less prayerful, he would have been less powerful. It has been said that during a few of the last years of his life he read the voluminous exposition of Matthew Henry, comprising six quarto volumes, in a kneeling posture, pausing and praying that God would engraft upon his mind the instructions of that extraordinary When he came before his auditors, he looked like one who had been with God. This it was which won for him the title of seraphic-he was a human seraph, and burnt out in the blaze of his own fire. Usually for an hour or two before he went into the pulpit, he claimed retirement. In this claim he was imperative, and would not be interrupted in his seasons of hallowed intercourse with God.

man.

Engaged almost incessantly in preaching, or in preparation for it, it was impossible, however much he desired it, to pay many private visits of a relig

ious nature. We are told, however, that on one occasion, when a young minister, afterwards exceedingly popular and useful, was once visiting him, he was sent for to visit a poor woman who had been so dreadfully burnt that she could not survive many hours. He went immediately, and prayed with her. He had no sooner returned, than she called out, "Oh, where is Mr. Whitefield?" Urged by her entreaty, her friends requested him to visit her a second time. He complied, and again prayed with her. The poor afflicted woman continued still to desire his presence. When her friends came for him a third time, "I begged of him," said the young clergyman, "not to go; for he could scarcely expect to do any good. Your nerves are too weak, your feelings are too acute to endure such scenes.' I shall never forget his mild reproof: 'Leave me; my Master can save to the uttermost, to the very uttermost."

In conversation with his friends, Whitefield was as far removed as possible from duplicity and mere compliment. He invited from his friends whatever of instruction and of reproof they considered him to need. And while he was always ready to receive reproof, he was, when called to the duty, ready to give it, and often in a way which his friends did not expect. A censorious professor of religion, knowing the doctrinal differences between the two men, asked Whitefield if he thought they would see Mr. John Wesley in heaven. His answer was truly admirable: "No, sir, I fear not; for he will be so near the throne, and we shall be at such a distance, we shall hardly get sight of him."

It is said, that when he was once travelling in company with a Christian man, they had occasion to stay for a night at a road-side tavern. After they had retired, they were greatly annoyed by a company of gamblers, who were in an adjoining room. Whitefield could not rest, and told his friend that he would go into the room and reprove them for their conduct. The other remonstrated against his doing so, but in vain. He went; and unhappily, his words fell apparently powerless upon them. Returning, he laid down to sleep. "What," asked his companion, "did you gain by your trouble?" Whitefield characteristically answered, “A soft pillow."

In his intercourse with general society, Mr. Whitefield never forgot his dignity as a servant of Jesus Christ. When he was in the zenith of his popularity, Lord Clare, who knew that his influence was considerable, applied to him by letter, requesting his influence at Bristol at the ensuing general election. To this request Mr. Whitefield replied, that in general elections he never interfered; but he would earnestly exhort his lordship to use great diligence to make his own particular "calling and election sure."

Mr. Whitefield was greatly distinguished, even from early life, for neatness in his person, order in his apartments, and regular method in the management of all his affairs. He was accustomed to say that a minister should be "without a spot ;" and on one occasion remarked, that he could not feel comfortable if he knew that his gloves were out of their proper place. The advantages of such habits are numerous. They save time, give a degree of comfort which can

only be known by experience, and add not a little to the dignity of the Christian minister.

The device upon Whitefield's seal, of which probably few impressions are now to be found, was truly characteristic. It was a winged heart soaring above the globe, and its motto was, "Astra petamus"—Let us seek heaven.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHARACTER OF WHITEFIELD AS A PREACHER— CENTENNIAL COMMEMORATIONS.

IN suggesting a few of the CHARACTERISTICS OF WHITEFIELD'S PREACHING, We are very greatly indebted to an excellent anonymous writer in the London Evangelical Magazine for 1853. We consider as among the reasons of his success, and as worthy of our imitation,

First, the prominence given to the leading truths of salvation, and the constant exaltation of Christ in them. There needs no minute inquiry, or great analytical care, to ascertain what was the pervading theme of this popular minister: it was "Christ, and him crucified," and the glorious truths that hover around the cross, and derive from it their being and lustre. There was no other subject, in Whitefield's estimation, that was worthy of preeminence, and to unfold, elucidate, and apply it, was the great design of his labors. He saw in it such a wonderful adaptation to the necessities and condition of fallen humanity, that he stood in the midst of its wants and woes with all the confidence of a good physician who had a sovereign and sufficient remedy to propose. He knew that there was no case which it could not meet, no moral disease from which it would not recover, no spiritual need which it would not supply; and therefore, however far gone men might be from original righteousness, however hardened in sin, sunk in iniquity, or