me with a long heavy whip, but always, from the violence of his motion, tumbled down." Soon after they got a recruiting officer, with his drums, fifes, and followers, to pass through the congregation.

But Whitefield by his tactics baffled this manœuvre; he ordered them to make way for the king's officers. The ranks opened, and when the party had marched through closed again. When the uproar became, as it sometimes did, such as to overpower his single voice, he called the voices of all his people to his aid, and began singing; and thus, what with singing, praying, and preaching, he continued, by his own account, three hours upon the ground, till the darkness made it time to break up.

So great was the impression which this wonderful man produced during this extraordinary scene that more than a thousand notes were handed up to him from persons who had been awakened that day, and three hundred and fifty persons joined his congregation. It was a splendid triumph, a stupendous victory, and that on the enemy's favorite ground. Whitefield accomplished more that day than some ministers do in a life-time. It is no wonder John Angell James, who was a great admirer of Mr. Whitefield, says, "No such scenes have transpired under the preaching of the Gospel since the Day of Pentecost under the sermon Peter preached as those of Whitefield's great field-day." Never had he a grander day. Never did he exhibit greater heroism. It not only demonstrated his courage, but it exhibited his overwhelming elo

quence. It showed his tremendous power over the masses. Never had the Gospel a more unyielding champion than Whitefield on that famous day, and never had it a more splendid triumph. Never did he do greater service for his Master, or more harm to the kingdom of darkness. It was one of the most splendid days of his life.

Whitefield and the Young Rake.

Whitefield on the following Tuesday went to Marylebone fields, a similar place of resort to Moorfields. A Quaker had prepared a very high pulpit for him, but, not having fixed the supports well in the ground, the preacher found himself in some jeopardy, especially when the mob endeavored to push the circle of his friends against it, and so throw it down. But he had a narrower escape after he had descended; "For," says he, "as I was passing from the pulpit to the coach I felt my wig and hat to be almost off. I turned about, and observed a sword just touching my temples. A young rake, as I afterward found, was determined to stab me; but a gentleman, seeing the sword thrust near me, struck it up with his cane, and so the destined victim providentially escaped." The man who made this atrocious attempt was seized by the people, and would have been handled as severely as he deserved had he not been protected by one of Whitefield's friends, who showed great lenity to the young ruffian who had so richly merited a severe punishment.

Whitefield and the Impudent Man.

The next day Whitefield returned to the attack in Moorfields, and here he gave a striking example of that ready talent which turns every thing to its purpose. A merry-andrew, finding that no common acts of buffoonery were of any avail, got into a tree near the pulpit, and, as much in spite as in insult, exposed his bare posteriors to the preacher in sight of all the people. The more brutal mob applauded him with loud laughter, while decent persons were abashed, and Whitefield himself was, for a moment, confounded; but, instantly recovering, he appealed to all, since now they had such a spectacle before them, whether he had wronged human nature in saying with Bishop Hall that man when left to himself is half a fiend and half a brute; or in calling him, with William Lane, a motley mixture of the beast and devil! The appeal was not lost upon the crowd, if it was upon the wretch by whom it was occasioned.

Whitefield and the Children.

Whitefield was at times greatly affected, and it must have had a powerful effect upon others. Several children, boys and girls, used to sit round him on the pulpit while he preached for the purpose of handing him the notes which were delivered by persons who were inquirers of the way of salvation. These poor children were exposed to all the missiles with which he was assailed; but

however much they were terrified or hurt, they never shrank, "but on the contrary," says Whitefield, "every time I was struck they turned up their little weeping eyes, and seemed to wish they could receive the blows for me."

Whitefield and the Madman.

There was a young man in London, in 1739, named Joseph Periam, who had read Mr. Whitefield's sermon on Regeneration, which had had a wonderful influence over him, and his conduct was so singular that his family had him sent to Bethlehem mad-house, where he was treated as "Methodistically mad," and as one of "Whitefield's gang." The keepers threw him down, and thrust a key into his mouth to make him swallow medicine. He was then placed in a cold room without windows which had a damp cellar under it. The young man having sent a letter requesting Whitefield to visit him in the asylum, Whitefield did so, and found him sane in mind and healthy in body. He then visited his sister, who gave him the three following symptoms of her brother's madness : First, that he fasted for nearly a fortnight; secondly, that he prayed so loud as to be heard all over a house four stories high; thirdly, that he sold his clothes and gave the money to the poor. The young man informed Whitefield that under his first awakening he had read of a young man in the Gospel whom our Lord commanded to sell all he had and give the money to the poor; and,

understanding it in a literal sense, he had, out of love to Jesus, sold his clothes and given the money to the poor. Whitefield, with several other friends, went before the hospital committee to explain the case, and the doctors told the whole deputation frankly that Whitefield and his followers were really beside themselves. However, on learning that Whitefield was going to Georgia, the committee and his friends consented to the release of the young man, provided Mr. Whitefield would take him with him to his place of destination. He consented to accompany Whitefield to America. which he did, and made himself very useful there as a school-master in the Orphan House, never giving any evidence of madness, but sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right mind. He married one of the matrons of the Orphan House. A few years after he and his wife died, leaving two orphan boys, who found a home in "Bethesda."

Whitefield and the Commissary.

Whitefield on returning, full of life and hope, to Charleston, S. C., after a northern tour, was surprised to find that on account of his field-preaching he had lost the friendship of the Rev. Alexander Garden, the Commissary at that place, who had on one occasion promised to be his faithful friend, and said he was ready to defend him with his life and fortune. The Commissary kept out of the way on Whitefield's arrival, and the Curate said