Rev. George Hare, D.D., then spoke, dwelling on Whitefield's ordination vows, his entire devotedness to the work of saving souls, and the Divine baptism, the holy anointing, that rested upon, him that rendered him so successful, and also his relation to Methodism. Rev. Alexander King, of London, England, made the final address, which was full of deep and thrilling interest. So two hemispheres united in the memorial service to the greatest of pulpit orators. The choir then sang: "Servant of God, well done;

Rest from thy loved employ;

The battle's fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy."

This closed the centenary exercises at the old South Church, Newburyport.

Relics of Whitefield.

During my stay in the town I had the pleasure of gazing with veneration upon many relics of the past.

The Old Bible.-This old Bible was one out of which Mr. Whitefield used to read his texts. It is still used in the pulpit.

The Ring-Another was a ring that Mr. Whitefield had on his finger when he died. I placed it upon my finger, and thought of the rings which he in his will had left to John and Charles Wesley "in token of his indissoluble union with them."

The Medal.-A silver medal was shown me which had been struck off soon after Whitefield's

death. On one side of it is the name, George Whitefield, with a likeness of him. On the reverse the legend, "An Israelite indeed." A good soldier of Jesus Christ. Died September 30, 1770, in the fifty-sixth year of his age.

The Old Chair.-Then there was the old chair in which Whitefield sat when he died, one hundred years ago that morning. What interest clusters around that old-fashioned high-backed chair. As I sat in it my mind involuntarily went back to the hall of the parsonage, and the dying scene passed before me. Here sat the pale, dying saint, gasping for breath till his throbbing temples beat their last, and then were forever still. Around this chair angels hovered, waiting the struggling of his great soul, anxious to be freed from its earthly prison-house, who, on hearing the cry, “He is dead," responded, "A child is born," and on their golden pinions they escorted him to the skies. From this chair he ascended to a throne. One moment seated here, the next with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of God.

Whitefield's Last Resting-place.

As has already been stated, Mr. Whitefield requested that, should he die in America, he might be buried under the pulpit of the "Old South Church." There were those who wished to have him buried in Boston; others desired to have his remains removed to England; but he could rest

in no more fitting place than where he now lies. The Old South Church is the custodian of his remains, and there let them rest until the multitude of sleepers awake at the sound of the trump, and rise to life immortal!

Mr. Whitefield was buried in his gown, cassock, bands, and wig. "Tis singular that his remains. should have been preserved so long from decay. As late as 1784 they were but little impaired.

Rev. Jesse Lee, the apostie of Methodism in New England, after having visited his tomb, says, "I went into the vault to see the body after it had lain there twenty years, and was greatly surprised to find the greater part of it firm and hard. A small part of it only had putrified.”

With feelings of solemn awe I descended into the place where there were three coffins-one containing the remains of Rev. Mr. Parsons, the other of Rev. Mr. Prince, and the middle one those of George Whitefield. The most that is left of him is the skull and bones, the other parts having crumbled to dust. While gazing with devout awe upon his coffin the thought came to me, I am standing beside the remains of the great revivalist, the friend of the Wesleys, the great pulpit orator of the world, the great evangelist of the Church. Seldom have I had such emotions as when my hand rested on Whitefield's skull. What mighty plans of usefulness had originated in the brain that skull had once contained! What sermons it had given birth to! Whole volumes of history passed through my mind in a few moments.

No wonder William B. Tappan, who visited this place in 1837, wrote thus:

"And this was Whitefield! this the dust now blending

With kindred dust, that wrapt his soul of fire,
Which, from the mantle freed, is still ascending
Through regions of far glory, holier, higher.

O, as I gaze here with a solemn joy

And awful rev'rence, in which shares Decay,
Who, this fair frame reluctant to destroy,
Yields it not yet to doom which all obey-
How follows thought his flight, at Love's command,
From hemisphere in sin to hemisphere;
Warning uncounted multitudes with tears-
Preaching the risen Christ on sea and land:

And now those angel journeyings above!

Souls, his companions, saved by such unwearied love!"

Never can I forget that vault, that coffin, those remains, nor the time when I stood there with the colored sexton, holding his lighted candle so that I could see the remains of the Prince of Pulpit Orators. It was a hallowed place, a hallowed hour, never to be forgotten.

The Cenotaph.

There is on the right side of the pulpit a beautiful cenotaph that I as well as others looked upon with admiration. This cenotaph has a peculiar history. Rev. Dr. Proudfit, a former Pastor of the Church, said at the centenary anniversary in 1856, "As my eye rests on that monument let me recall the way in which it came there. I called

one evening on Mr. Bartlett. He told me he had heard Whitefield when he was a boy, and had never forgotten the impression made upon him by his preaching. He expressed a desire to have a suitable monument erected to his memory in this church. He asked if I would look after the matter, and employ an eminent artist to do the work. I inquired how much he was willing it should cost. 'On that point,' he replied, 'I leave you entirely at liberty. Let it be something worthy of a great and good man,' That monument, designed by Strickland and executed by Strothers, is the result I used the liberty he gave me moderately. Had it cost ten times as much he would, no doubt, have paid it cheerfully. When the artist presented the demand Mr. Bartlett gave him one hundred dollars above the amount. When I was in England the congregations of Tottenham Court and the Tabernacle intimated a desire to have his remains removed to England; but when I told them what Mr. Bartlett had done, they said that if any American gentleman was willing to give three hundred pounds to do honor to Whitefield's memory, America was well entitled to his remains."* It seems perfectly fitting that one who had heard Whitefield preach, and been benefited by his ministrations, should erect his monument. Mr. Bartlett did nobly, for in erecting one for Whitefield he built one for himself. In perpetuating the name of Whitefield he also perpetuated his own.

*Dr. Proudfit's address at the one hundredth anniversary of the building of the church.