God forbid that I should travel with anybody a quarter of an hour without speaking of Christ to them. I am never better than when I am on the full stretch for God. CHAPTER VIII THE BRITISH ISLES FOR CHRIST FOR a year and more, prior to his first visit to America, Whitefield's popularity in England was enormous. He was eagerly welcomed to pulpits great and small, and wherever he preached churches were packed to the doors. Nothing like it had ever been seen, and the young man was commonly referred to as "Ye wonder of ye age." But at the very time when the people were shouting his praises the clouds were beginning to gather, and distant rumbling was heard, ominous if not loud. When he set sail, many supposed he was gone for good, and they gave a sigh of relief. What was their dismay, less than a year later, to find him back again, bold and aggressive as ever. But a change had come. He was no longer greeted with shouts. Everywhere churches were closed to him. At first three or four clergymen in London ventured to invite him into their pulpits, but soon every door was shut. Bristol, the second city in England, had witnessed some of his greatest triumphs. But now the chancellor plainly told him that if he dared to preach anywhere in the diocese, he would be excommunicated. Why this revulsion of feeling? Perhaps some of the clergy were jealous of Whitefield's success. Doubtless many more were offended that this young "upstart" should presume to cast doubt on the well-established and most comfortable doctrine that water-baptism alone is needed to effect the New Birth. Such disturbing talk was not to be tolerated. And in other ways Whitefield was not quite churchly, which all added to the general vexation. Moreover, he kept a Journal of the voyage to Savannah, which he sent back to some friends in England for their private perusal, and which, unfortunately, they published. It had a wide circulation, and while harmless among the select few, it contained comments and allusions respecting himself and others never intended for the public eye, and which put the writer in a false light. In a word, Whitefield was an outcast. What should he do? He might go back to America, where his Savannah parish would gladly receive him; and he was now fully equipped, having been ordained to the priesthood. But, aside from the imperative need for collecting money in England for the orphan enterprise in Georgia, he longed to spend a part of his ministry in evangelizing his native land. PREACHING IN THE FIELDS God moves in a mysterious way. It was the month of February, 1739. Whitefield had gone up from London to Bristol only to find every church door shut in his face. Then he turned to the |