George Whitefield

God forbid that I should travel with anybody a quarter of an hour without
speaking of Christ to them.
George Whitefield - known as the Great Orator, the Divine Dramatist, and the Heavenly
Comet for his style and impact on all who heard him - was an evangelistic pioneer. Moved with
such deep compassion for the lost, he was the first in the Great Awakening to preach out in the
open to coal miners and shipyard workers as they passed on their way to and from work, for they
had no other opportunities to hear the Gospel. His charisma and compassion carried him from
parlors to prisons in England and from politicians houses to Native Americans huts in the New
World.
George Whitefield was born to innkeepers in the cosmopolitan city of Gloucester, England.
He was the youngest of seven children. Two years after Georges birth, his father passed away and
his mother was left alone to run the inn and care for the family.
When George was ten years old, he attended grammar school at St. Mary de Crypt where he
discovered a love of theater. Although he progressed rapidly in the standard classical studies, his
passion for winning the lead role in school plays was all consuming. Because of his acclaimed
oratory abilities, he was also called upon to deliver a speech whenever important people visited
the school.
The Dawn of Destiny Breaks Forth
George Whitefield was eighteen when he entered Pembroke in November 1732. Because his family
was poor, George worked to earn his way through college as a servitor to wealthier students.
Sometime in 1735, Whitefield learned that a woman in one of the workhouses had attempted to
cut her own throat. Knowing that John and Charles Wesley would be willing to counsel her, he sent
them word via an apple seller who divulged her source to Charles even though George had charged
her not to. Charles sought George out and invited him to breakfast.
Charles, a college tutor and six years Georges senior, was impressed by Whitefield and
invited him to join the Holy Club. Their friendship flourished rapidly. Charles lent him several lifetransforming books, of which the most profound was the Life of God in the Soul of Man by Henry
Scougal. After reading this book, Whitefield wrote that through it,
Jesus Christ first revealed Himself to me, and gave me the new birth. I learned that a man
may go to church, say his prayers, receive the Sacrament, and yet not be a Christian. How did my
heart rise and shudder like a poor man that is afraid to look into his ledger lest he should find
himself bankrupt.
He wasted no time delving deeper into the Gospel while the Wesleys were still stumbling in
the mazes of salvation by conduct. It would take the Wesley brothers three more years to
experience the magnitude of Gods saving grace and receive the new birth themselves.
The Boy Preacher
Whitefield delivered his first sermon as a deacon from the pulpit of St. Mary de Crypt in Gloucester,
not far from where he had served as a common tapster not five years earlier. Probably out of
curiosity more than anything else, a surprisingly large crowd gathered to hear him preach a
message entitled The Necessity and Benefit of Religious Society. As a result of this message,
fifteen people were reported to have gone mad from an overwhelming conviction of their sins.
The bishop responded that he hoped the madness might not be forgotten before next Sunday."3"
From the beginning, Whitefields preaching reflected years of theatrical performances and a
heart filled with intense devotion. The pulpit was his stage, and he would use every ounce of
intellect and talent to convey his sermon points. A famous actor of the time, David Garrick,
exclaimed, I would give a hundred guineas if I could say Oh like Mr. Whitefield. 4
America Calling
George soon received a letter from John Wesley imploring him to come to America where the
harvest is so great and the labourers so few. What if thou art the man, Mr. Whitefield? Upon
hearing this, wrote Whitefield, my heart leaped within me, and, as it were, echoed to the call! 5

Roughly a year later, George set sail for America. As Whitefields ship, the Whitaker, was
heading for the open sea, John Wesley was just returning to England, having determined Georgia a
failure. The two ships had, in fact, passed within sight of each other along the English shoreline,
though neither at the time knew a friend was aboard the other.
The Whitaker arrived in Georgia on May 7, 1738. From the outset, Whitefield was moved by
the living conditions of the poor, and especially by the growing number of orphans. One month
after his arrival, he began to teach the children in the surrounding villages and made arrangements
to establish a school in Savannah. He also felt compelled to begin plans for an orphanage that
would eventually be named Bethesda. He soon decided he would have to return to England to
secure funding for the care of widows and orphans in the colonies. He also needed to complete his
ordination as a priest.
All the Trees of the Field Shall Clap Their Hands
When Whitefield returned to London in December 1738, he found much had changed. Foremost,
Charles and John Wesley had experienced their own personal conversions through the work of the
Moravians and were preaching at Oxford and elsewhere on the new birth. Their message,
combined with the strictness of their moral code, had incurred waves of opposition in the city. Due
to Whitefields association with the Methodists, pulpits had become less welcoming to him as
well.
In spite of this, Whitefield was ordained into the Anglican priesthood on January 14, 1739. He
managed to preach to large crowds at the few remaining churches that would admit him, collecting
significant financial contributions for the orphanage he proposed in Savannah. His celebrity, as well
as his charity, caught the interest of the Countess of Huntingdon, who invited him to deliver a
presentation to a gathering of her aristocratic friends. She and several of her peers were soon
counted among his most faithful supporters and patrons.
Open-Air Preaching
From London, Whitefield made his way to Bristol, where he found the religious atmosphere cold and
unwelcoming. Being censored by the established churches, he went to the mining district of
Kingswood - where there was no church - to preach to the coal miners. He recorded his first
experience preaching out in the open, saying in part:
I went upon a mount, and spake to as many people as came unto me. They were upwards of
two hundred. Blessed be to God, I have now broken the ice; I believe I never was more acceptable
to my Master than when I was standing to teach those hearers in the open fields.6
Whitefield went on to write that he could see the white gutters made by their tears, which
plentifully fell down their black cheeks. 7 The more he took to field preaching, the more he
received hostility from the churches.
After a brief stint back in London, Whitefield returned to Bristol with Charles and John Wesley
near the end of March 1739. There, in the town center, he stepped up on a low wall and began to
exhort the townspeople as they passed by. Georges example soon had the Wesleys preaching in
the open air themselves, satisfied that they would do so for the rest of their lives. George left the
Wesleys in the provinces and returned to London where revival sprang up wherever he preached.
The Great Awakening was now in full swing.
Awakening America
On October 30, 1739, Whitefield returned to America and traveled immediately to Philadelphia. It
was not long before even the largest of churches proved too small to hold the throngs of people
pushing their way in to hear Whitefield. From Philadelphia to New York, he spoke to record-sized
audiences - those who gathered to hear him often outnumbered the population of the local towns
and cities!
Benjamin Franklin heard Whitefield preach when he first arrived in Philadelphia, and wrote,
He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words and sentences so perfectly, that he might
be heard and understood at a great distance, especially as his auditories, however numerous,
observed the most exact silence." 8
Franklin and Whitefield would share a lifelong friendship. From the outset, Franklin offered to
publish Whitefields sermons in his newspaper, the Pennsylvania Gazette, and later his journals.

Franklin would even help Whitefield raise money for the orphan house. He was so taken with
Whitefields fundraising ability that he wrote:
I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he
intended to finish with a collection, and I silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in
my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistols in gold. As he
proceeded I began to soften, and concluded to give the coppers. Another stroke of his oratory
made me ashamed of that, and determined me to give the silver, and he finished so admirably,
that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collectors dish, gold and all 9
Adding Fuel to the Fire
By mid-October 1740, Whitefield found himself in Northampton, Massachusetts, the guest of
Jonathan and Sarah Edwards. Jonathan was so moved by Whitefields sermons that he was known
to break down in tears as he listened. Sarah was also taken with Whitefields oratorical abilities,
and wrote,
It is wonderful to see what a spell he casts over an audience by proclaiming the simple
truths of the Bible. I have seen upwards of a thousand people hung on his words with breathless
silence, broken only by an occasional half-suppressed sob. . . . A prejudiced person, I know, might
say that this is all theatrical artifice and display; but not so will anyone think who has seen and
known him 10
Whitefields presence in Northampton had the effect of fresh fuel applied to an already
kindled fire. While Edwards preached fear of Gods judgment, Whitefield preached Gods mercy and
acceptance. He recorded, I found my heart drawn out to talk of scarce anything else besides the
consolations and privileges of the saints and the plentiful effusion of the Spirit upon believers. 11
Hearts that had already been scorched and broken with the fires of judgment 12 melted at the
sound of Whitefields compassionate words.
Division with the Wesleys
Beginning in 1741, divisive public debates that lasted nearly a year created two camps among the
Methodists: the Wesleys free grace societies and Whitefields Calvinists. Soon both Whitefield
and the Wesleys saw the danger of the split - they realized the opposition they felt toward one
another was scarcely as strong as the opposition between their followers. Though they could not
reconcile their organizations, not one of the three could bear to be separated in spirit from the
others for long. Their friendships would be rejoined, but the two movements of Whitefields
Calvinistic Methodism and the Wesleys United Societies would not.
The Cambuslang Communion
Having conquered England and North America, Whitefield shifted his aim to awaken Scotland.
Calvinists all, Americans and Scots were kindred spirits in the eighteenth century, and Whitefield
found great success among both. Whitefield would visit Scotland fourteen times, experiencing a
depth of revival he had not witnessed in the rest of Great Britain or the colonies. He reminisced
later in life about the joy he always found in speaking to the Scots; he was impressed by the
rustling made by opening the Bibles as soon as he named his text. 13
He put a small town named Cambuslang, just southeast of Glasgow, on the map after he
preached to twenty thousand twice in one day and to thirty thousand the next. He had never
witnessed such a hunger for the presence of God. Enormous tents were set up to accommodate the
thousands desiring to partake in Communion, while worship and prayer continued into the early
hours of morning. He recorded:
You might have seen thousands bathed in tears. Some at the same time wringing their
hands, others almost swooning, and others crying out, and mourning over a pierced Saviour. . . . All
night in different companies, you might have heard persons praying to and praising God. . . . It was
like the Passover in Josiahs time. 14
This scene would repeat itself wherever Whitefield ventured to preach; it is said that the fires
kindled during these Cambuslang Revivals set all of England aflame.
George Marries
Near the end of 1741, Elizabeth Burnell James, a widow, agreed to marry Whitefield even though
he made it clear that preaching the Gospel would always be his first love. Elizabeth was thirty-six

and Whitefield twenty-six. During their weeklong honeymoon, Whitefield preached twice a day.
Within the month, he was back on the road; thereafter, he would rarely see, or even speak of, his
new wife. Elizabeth set up residence in London; George would only stay there for short periods as
the call of evangelism tugged constantly at his heart.
In 1744, Elizabeth gave birth to a son who died in infancy. This loss weighed heavily on
George, and from that point he showed special concern for children everywhere. He was known to
speak directly to them when he preached, telling them that if their parents would not come to
Christ, they were to come anyway and go to heaven without them. After the loss of their son,
Elizabeth went on to suffer four miscarriages. Although observers noted that George was always
respectful and courteous towards his wife, Elizabeth wrote of her marriage, I have been nothing
but a load and burden to him. 15
Persecution and Triumph
The years following 1741 were filled with incredible evangelistic victories - as well as with the most
violent persecution. George was frequently pelted with stones, rotten vegetables, and dead animal
parts as he spoke. On one occasion, a rock struck his head and nearly rendered him unconscious.
On another occasion, he would have been stabbed had the crowd not intervened on his behalf.
Another time, a man tried to strike him with a whip as he preached; on other occasions, protestors
attempted to drown out his voice with drums or trumpets. In 1744, an intruder broke into his home
and attacked him in his bed. His life was preserved thanks to his landlady who - when Whitefield
screamed, Murder! - came running and shouting, waking the entire neighborhood and sending
the assailant fleeing into the night.

Following a third successful trip to America in 1745, George returned again to England, Scotland,
and Wales. He earned the further attention and respect of the wealthy Lady Huntingdon. She
appointed him chaplain of a network of chapels she had built, a position that relieved some of his
financial burdens. The demand for his preaching did not slacken; persecution did, fortunately.
During the 1750s, both camps of the Methodists had gained popular support as their message
became more widely accepted among all ranks of society. As individuals, they had also mellowed.
Whitefield learned to use a gentler tone in his letters and public declarations, ruffling far fewer
feathers as he grew older.

In August 1768, after twenty-seven years of marriage, Elizabeth entered heavens gates two years
ahead of her husband. After she died, George said, I feel the loss of my right hand daily. 16
The Final Visit to America
Almost exactly one year later, Whitefield returned to the colonies in November 1769. Although he
was not in good health when he arrived in Charleston, he preached to large crowds for ten
consecutive days. He continued his preaching tour throughout New England as if he were still a
youthful man. He insisted to his friends that he would rather wear out than rust out. 17
On the morning of September 19, 1770, he preached a moving message in Portsmouth, New
Hampshire and then set out immediately for his next destination: Newburyport, Massachusetts.
Friends and admirers observed his weakened condition and begged him to rest, but he pressed on.
By midday, Whitefield was implored by a gathering crowd to preach, and he complied. He climbed
atop a barrel in an open field to preach what would be his last sermon. The text he spoke about
was Examine yourselves whether ye be in faith, which discussed the new birth. Whitefields last
public words were about the uselessness of works to get to heaven: Works! Works! A man gets to
heaven by works! I would as soon think of climbing to the moon on a rope of sand. 18 George
Whitefield breathed his last in the early hours of September 20, 1770, the very next day. He was
fifty-six years old.