preach and pray to the servants, and not to the master." This good-humored hint he followed up by proposing to read a collect now and then to him and the other gentlemen in the great cabin. At first the captain shook his head; but after a pause he said, "I think we may when we have nothing else to do." It was not long before the military captain, without being asked, requested that they might have public service and expounding twice a day in the great cabin.

WHITEFIELD AND THE SEA-CAPTAIN.

While the vessel was lying in the Downs, Mr. Whitefield ventured one day to remove "The Independent Whig" from the captain's pillow and replace it with a book called "The Self-Deceiver." Next morning the captain came to him smiling, and asked who it was that had made the exchange. Whitefield acknowledged he had done it, and begged the captain to accept of the book. He read it, and it produced in him a visible change. Whitefield preached a sermon on board against drunkenness. Captain Mackay backed up the word, urging the men to attend to the things that had been spoken to them, telling them that he had been a notorious swearer, and beseeching them for Christ's sake to give up their sins. There was a wonderful reformation on board the vessel. The ship became almost as orderly as a church. The men were regularly summoned by the drum to morning and evening prayers. Cards and profane books were thrown overboard; religious books

were in great demand; an oath became a strange thing. So marked was the change produced in Captain Mackay that the general exclamation on board the vessel was, "What a change in our captain!"

WHITEFIELD AND THE WEDDING.

During the voyage a marriage took place on board the vessel, the ceremony being performed on the deck. The bridegroom exhibited great levity while Mr. Whitefield was going through the service. He thereupon closed the prayer book, and refused to proceed further until a more serious appreciation of the obligations they were taking upon themselves had been evinced, when he finished the ceremony, and on closing gave the bride a Bible.

WHITEFIELD AND FALSE FRIENDS.

We have already noticed Mr. Whitefield's great power in illustrating his subjects. The following is a specimen. "To-day," he says in his journal of his first voyage to Georgia, "Colonel C. came to dine with us, and in the midst of our meal we were entertained with a most agreeable sight. It was a shark about the length of a man, which followed our ship, attended by five small fish called pilot-fish, much like our mackerel, but larger. These, I am told, always keep the shark company; and, what is most surprising, though the shark is such a ravenous creature, yet, let it be ever so hungry, it will never touch one of them. Nor are they less faithful to him; for I am informed that

when the shark is hooked very often these little fish will cleave close to his fins, and are taken up with him. Go to the pilot-fish, thou that forsakest a friend in adversity; consider his ways, and be ashamed."

Whitefield and the Dying Infidel.

In speaking of incidents connected with his sojourn in Savannah Whitefield says: "I was obliged to express my resentment against infidelity by refusing to read the burial service over the most professed unbeliever I ever met with. God was pleased to visit him with lingering illness, during which I went to see him frequently. About five weeks ago I asked him what religion he was of. He answered, 'Religion is of so many sects I know not which to choose.' Another time I offered to pray with him, but he would not accept it, upon which I resolved to go to see him no more. But being told, two days before he died, that he had an inclination to see me, I went again, and after a little conversation put the following questions to him: 'Do you believe Jesus Christ to be God, and the one Mediator between God and man?' He said, 'I believe Jesus Christ was a good man.' 'Do you believe the Holy Scriptures?' 'I believe something of the Old Testament; the New I do not believe at all.' 'Do you believe, sir, in a judgment to come?' He turned himself about and replied, 'I know not what to say to that.' 'Alas, sir!' said I, 'if all these things

should be true, what?' which words, I believe gave him great concern, for he seemed afterward to be very uneasy, grew delirious, and in a day or two departed. Unhappy man, how quickly he was convinced! The day after his decease he was carried to the ground, and I refused to read the service over him; but I went to the grave, and told the people what had passed between him and myself; and, warning them all against infidelity, I asked them whether I could safely say, 'As our hope is, this our brother doth ?' Upon which I believe they were thoroughly satisfied that I had acted right."

Whitefield and the Indian King.

Whitefield, like John Wesley, had poor success among the Indians. Soon after his first arrival in America he was taken sick, and on recovering the first thing he did was to visit Tomo-Chichi, the Indian king, then on his death-bed. This was the micoe, or king, whom Oglethorpe brought to England in 1734 and introduced to George II. He was accompanied by his wife and son, and seven other Indians of the Creek nation. His eloquent speech to the king and queen is well known, and was so well received at court that he was loaded with presents, and even sent in one of the royal carriages to Gravesend, when he had to embark again. "He now lay," says Whitefield, "on a blanket, thin and meagre; little else but skin and bones. Senanki, his wife, sat by, fanning him with

Indian feathers. There was no one could talk English, so I could only shake hands with him and leave him." A few days after Whitefield went again to visit Tomo-Chichi, and found that his nephew, Tooanoowee, could speak English. "Idesired him to ask his uncle whether he thought he should die; who answered, 'I cannot tell.' I then asked where he thought he should go after death? He replied, "To heaven.' But, alas! how can a drunkard enter there? I then exhorted Tooanoowee, who is a tall, proper youth, not to get drunk, telling him that he understood English, and therefore would be punished the more if he did not live better. I then asked him whether he believed in a heaven? Yes,' said he. I then asked whether he believed in a hell, and described it by pointing to the fire. He replied, 'No.' From whence we may easily gather how natural it is to all mankind to believe there is a place of happiness because they wish it to be so; and on the contrary, how averse they are to believe a place of torment because they wish it may not be so. But God is just and true; and as surely as the righteous shall go away into everlasting happiness, so the impenitently wicked shall go into everlasting punish

ment."

Incidents of a Perilous Voyage.

In September, 1738, Whitefield left Charleston for London on his first return voyage from America. At that time a trip across the Atlantic at