George-Whitefield-Field-Preacher

ILLNESS OF WESLEY 289
His open-air preaching was concluded this year in a way too
beautiful to be left without notice. He had opened in Bristol
another chapel, called by the same name as that in London, 1
and then started for Somersetshire. He writes, on December 1st,
that on the Tuesday before, he had preached at seven in the
evening to a great multitude in the open air ; that all was
hushed and exceeding solemn ;
that the stars shone with great
brightness ; that then, if ever, he had by faith seen Him who
calls them all by their names ;
and that his soul was filled with
holy ambition, and he longed to be one of those who shall
shine as the stars for ever and ever. His hands and body had
been pierced with cold; 'but what,' he asks, 'are outward
things when the soul within is warmed with the love of God ?
Much and sincerely as he desired his crown and joy, it
seemed at this time as if another were to precede him. His
friend Wesley was ill of what the physicians thought was
galloping consumption. Whitefield pitied the Church and
himself, but not Wesley. He almost grieved to think that
he must stay behind in 'this cold climate,' while Wesley took
' his flight to a radiant throne prepared for him from the
foundations of the world.' Then, again, he thought how
' poor Mr. Charles ' was
to be pitied, upon whom double
work would come. The time was full of sorrow, and it
gave Whitefield and the Countess an excellent opportunity
1 Lord Chesterfield contributed twenty pounds towards the erection of
Bristol Tabernacle ; but begged that his name might not appear in any
way. Sainte Beuve says that he feared ridicule ; and very likely that
feeling made him wish his name to be withheld. He seems also to have
been afraid of Lady Huntingdon's importunities, and a little impatience
with her is perceptible. ' Really,' he said, ' there is no resisting youi
ladyship's importunities. It would ill become me to censure your enthusi-
astic admiration of Mr. Whitefield. His eloquence is unrivalled, his zeal
inexhaustible ;
and not to admire both would argue a total absence of taste,
and an insensibility not to be coveted by anybody.'
20