George Whitefield - Philip - XX- Chapters 17 and 18

Required reading
Life and times of George Whitefield by Robert Philip (available from Amazon or free on the internet, here for example) - Read Chapter 17 (Whitefield in Ireland) and Chapter 18 (Whitefield's characteristic sayings).

My summary
In Chapter 17 we hear of Whitefield's brief visit to Ireland: 'Whitefield's connexion with Ireland was too slight to impress any character upon the religion of the country, or even to give an impulse to it.  His preaching won souls; but it set in motion no evangelizing enterprise, except the itinerancy of the celebrated John Cennick'.

Then in Chapter 18 we read a collection of Whitefield's sayings on different subjects from the first ten years of his ministerial life.

What grabbed me
I don't think Whitefield experienced stronger physical persecution than he did in Ireland: '"It being war time, I exhorted, as is my usual practice, my hearers, not only to fear God, but to honour the best of kings; and after sermon, I prayed for success to the Prussian arms. All being over, I thought to return home the way I came; but, to my great surprise, access was denied, so that I had to go near half a mile from one end of the Green to the other, through hundreds and hundreds of papists, &c. Finding me unattended, (for a soldier and four methodist preachers, who came with me, had forsook me and fled,) I was left to their mercy. But their mercy, as you may easily guess, was perfect cruelty. Volleys of hard stones came from all quarters, and every step I took a fresh stone made me reel backwards and forwards, till I was almost breathless, and all over a gore of blood. My strong beaver hat served me as it were for a scull cap for a while; but at last it was knocked off, and my head left quite defenceless. I received many blows and wounds; one was particularly large, and near my temples. I thought of Stephen, and as I believed that I received more blows, I was in great hopes that like him I should be despatched, and go off in this bloody triumph to the immediate presence of my Master. But providentially a minister's house lay next door to the Green ; with great difficulty I staggered to the door, which was kindly opened to, and shut upon, me. Some of the mob in the mean time having broke part of the boards of the pulpit into large splinters, they beat and wounded my servant grievously in his head and arms, and then came and drove him from the door. For a while I continued speechless, panting for, and expecting every breath to be my last. Two or three of the hearers, my friends, by some means or other, got admission, and kindly with weeping eyes washed my bloody wounds, and gave me something to smell to and to drink. I gradually revived, but soon found the lady of the house desired my absence, for fear the house should be pulled down. What to do I knew not, being near two miles from Mr. W 's place; some advised one thing, and some another. At length, a carpenter, one of the friends that came in, offered me his wig and coat, that I might go off in disguise. I accepted of and put them on, but was soon ashamed of not trusting my Master to secure me in my proper habit, and threw them off with disdain. I determined to go out (since I found my presence was so troublesome) in my proper habit; immediately deliverance came. A methodist preacher, with two friends, brought a coach; I leaped into it, and rode in gospel triumph through the oaths, curses, and imprecations of whole streets of papists unhurt, though threatened every step of the ground. None but those who were spectators of the scene, can form an idea of the affection with which I was received by the weeping, mourning, but now joyful methodists. A christian surgeon was ready to dress our wounds, which being done, I went into the preaching-place, and after giving a word of exhortation, joined in a hymn of praise and thanksgiving to Him who makes our extremity his opportunity, who stills the noise of the waves, and the madness of the most malignant people. The next morning I set out for Port Arlington, and left my persecutors to His mercy, who out of persecutors hath often made preachers. That I may he thus revenged of them, is my hearty prayer."'

Almost stoned to death and still preaches later that day.  What a man!

Next week's reading
Read Chapter 19 (Whitefield revisiting).

Now it's your turn
Please post your own notes and thoughts in the comments section below.