5. Into the Open Air in London 51
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Into the Open Air in LondonOn his preached in the open air in a park-like place called Moorfields. Notice had been given of his coming and ... he found an incredible number of people assembled. Many had told him he would never come out of that place alive. He went in between two friends who by pressure of the crowd were soon entirely parted from him and were obliged to leave him to the mercy of the rabble. But these, instead of hurting him, formed a lane for him and carried him along to the middle of the Fields (where a table had been placed which was broken to pieces by the crowd) and afterwards back again to the wall that parted the upper and lower Moorfields; from whence he preached without molestation to an exceedingly great multitude.1
In this action Whitefield introduced Methodism to Moorfields, a location which has been its chief center ever since.
That evening Whitefield chose his second London location, Kennington Common. The Common was a large open field where great numbers of the poor gathered. It held a permanent scaffold on which hangings were frequently conducted. Vicious sports and drunken brawhngs were prevalent. Here men, women and children, unwashed, ignorant, and diseased, were to be found in abundance, and "no man cared for their souls." Whitefield reported that on that evening,
No less than thirty thousand were supposed to be present. The wind being for me carried my voice to the extremest part of the audience. All stood attentive and joined in the Psalm and the Lord's Prayer most regularly. I scarce ever preached more quietly in a church. The Word came with power. .. . I hope a good inroad has been made into the devil's kingdom to-day.2
Satisfied with this initial step into the open air in London, Whitefield returned to Kennington each evening and to Moorfields each Sunday morning. We follow his amazing labors as reported in his Journals'.
Wednesday, May 2. Preached this evening to above 10,000 at Kennington Common. . . .
Saturday, May 5. Preached yesterday and to-day as usual at Kennington Common, to about twenty thousand hearers, who were very much affected.
Sunday, May 6. Preached this morning in Moorfields to about twenty thousand people, who were very quiet and attentive, and much affected. Went to public worship morning and evening, and at six preached at Kennington. Such a sight I never saw before. I believe there were no less than fifty thousand people, and near four score coaches, besides great numbers of horses. God gave me great enlargement of heart. I continued my discourse for an hour and a half, and when I returned home I was filled with such love, peace and joy that I cannot express it.
Tuesday, May 8 ... before I set out from town it rained very hard.. .. To my great surprise, when I came to the Common I saw above twenty thousand people. All the while . . . the sun shone upon us; and I trust the Sun of Righteousness arose on some with healing in his wings.
Wednesday, May 9 . . . after God had enabled me to preach to about twenty thousand for above an hour at Kennington, He inclined the hearers' hearts to contribute most cheerfully and liberally to the Orphan House.... When we came home we found that we had collected above £46, amongst which were £16 in half pence.
Thursday, May 10. Preached at Kennington, but it rained most of the day. There were not above ten thousand people and thirty coaches. However, God was pleased so visibly to interpose in causing the weather to clear up and the sun to shine out just as I began, that I could not avoid taking notice of it in my discourse.
Friday, May 11. Preached at Kennington to a larger audience than last night, and collected £26 15s. 6d. for the Orphan House. The people offered willingly. Being upon the Publican and the Pharisee, I was very earnest in endeavouring to convince the self-righteous Pharisees of this generation, and offering Jesus Christ freely to all, who, with the humble publican feelingly cry out, "God be merciful to me a sinner."
Saturday, May 12 .. . Many came to me this morning, acquainting me what God had done for their souls by my preaching in the fields. In the evening I preached to about twenty thousand at Kennington. .. . I offered Jesus Christ to all who could apply him to their hearts by faith. . . . The Lord make them willing in the day of His power!
Sunday, May 13. Preached this morning to a prodigious number of people in Moorfields and collected for the orphans £52 19s. 6d. above £20 of which was in half pence .. . they were more than one man could carry home. Went to public worship twice (in a Church of England) and preached in the evening to near sixty thousand people. Many went away because they could not hear, but God enabled me to speak so that the best part of them could understand me well, and it is very remarkable what a deep silence is preserved whilst I am speaking. After sermon I made another collection of £29 17s. 8d., and came home deeply humbled.3
While conducting this work, Whitefield was besieged with invitations to come and preach at other places too. He responded to as many as possible and exclaimed, "Blessed be God! we begin to surround this great city!" He also spent a week conducting a preaching tour to cities to the north of London, and remarked, "Many sinners have been convicted and many saints comforted. I find there are some thousands of secret ones . . . who have not bowed the knee to Baal, and this public way of acting brings them out."
Upon returning to London, Whitefield continued his ministry with still greater urgency. He had already booked his passage to America, and the vessel expected to sail within two weeks. The people flocked to hear him in greater numbers than ever and he reported:
Sunday, May 27. Preached this morning at Moorfields to about twenty thousand.... My discourse was about two hours long. My heart was full of love and people were so melted down on every side that the greatest scoffer must have owned this was the finger of God .. . preached in the evening at Kennington Common to about the same number as last Lord's Day. I was a little hoarse, but God strengthened me to speak, so as not only to be heard, but felt. . . .
Monday, May 28. Preached .. . at Hackney in a field, to about ten thousand people. I insisted much on the reasonableness of the doctrine of the new birth.... Great numbers were in tears... .
Tuesday, May 29. Preached at Kennington to a devout auditory, with much sweetness and power. . . .
Wednesday, May 30 . . . preached in the evening at Newington Common, to about fifteen thousand people. A very commodious place was erected for me to preach from . .. seeing a great multitude I thought proper to collect for the Orphan House, and £16 9s. 4d. was gathered.
Thursday, May 31. Was taken ill this afternoon, but God was pleased to strengthen me to go to Kennington.. ..
Friday, June 1 . . . preached in the evening at a place called Mayfair, near Hyde Park Corner. The congregation, I believe, consisted of near eighty thousand people. In the time of my prayer there was a little noise, but they kept a deep silence during the whole of my discourse. A high and very commodious scaffold was erected for me to stand upon, and though I was weak in myself, yet God strengthened me to speak so loud that most could hear, and so powerfully that most, I believe, could feel. All love, all glory, be to God through Christ!
Saturday, June 2 .. . Collected by private contributions nearly £50 for the orphans, and preached in the evening to about ten thousand at Hackney, where £20 12s. 4d. was gathered.
Sunday, June 3. Preached at Moorfields to a larger congregation than ever, and collected £29 17s. 9d. for the Orphans. Went twice to public worship. . . . Preached in the evening at Kennington Common to the most numerous audience I ever yet saw in that place, and collected £34 5s. When I mentioned my departure they were melted into tears.... Oh what marvellous kindness has God shown me in this great city!4
The Rev. Luke Tyerman, a man devoutly loyal to John Wesley, and the most prolific of all writers of Methodist history, after presenting the above reports, stated,
.. . it may be useful to pause and to ponder these marvellous extracts from the young preacher's Journal. Are they not unique? is there any man, except Whitefield, whose diary for so many consecutive days, contains a series of statements like the foregoing?5
One would assume that following so extensive a course of meetings Whitefield would be physically and mentally exhausted. It would be expected that to stand before these multitudes ten or more times a week, to overcome the opposition of the unruly, to command the attention of all, to meet the inclemencies of wind and rain and preach for an hour, or perhaps two, would have left him overcome with fatigue. An English essayist, John Foster, in considering the vocal effort alone remarked:
With all the advantage of such a power of voice as perhaps no other man possessed, there must still often have been the necessity of forcing it to the last possibility of exertion, in order to enable his being heard by congregations amounting to many thousands. . . .6
Yet, the fact is that Whitefield makes no suggestion of weariness as the result of these labors. The sight of the crowds and the prospect of preaching to them had an exhilarating effect on his mind, and both during and after his great efforts in the fields he frequently experienced a richly increased joy and strength. He made several such reports, saying for example,
When we came home ... God was pleased to pour into my soul a great spirit of supplication, and a sense of His free, distinguishing mercies so filled me with love, humility, joy and holy confusion, that I could at last only pour out my heart before Him in an awful silence. I was so full I could not well speak. Oh the happiness of communion with God!7
Of course, the question as to the actual number of Whitefield's hearers must be considered. We notice the figures he gives, stating he preached on several occasions to twenty-five thousand, and at times his estimate runs as high as forty thousand and once to eighty thousand. Are these figures accurate?
The Gentleman's Magazine, reporting one of his meetings, stated that his audience "covered three acres"—14,520 square yards. Another periodical described one of his congregations as "a prodigious concourse," and other contemporaries used the terms "most numerous" and "an innumerable multitude." Even his opposers left testimony in the matter. Dr. Trapp, a prominent London clergyman, made reference to "vast multitudes ... so sottish as to run madding after him," and the Rev. Thomas Church asserted, "He cannot possibly be supposed to know all. . . those present at his meetings of 30, 50 or 80,000."
When, in a few months, Whitefield again reached America, Benjamin Franklin measured the distance at which his voice could be heard, and stated, "I computed he might well be heard by more than thirty thousand." But although we consider Franklin's figure too high, and if we reduce Whitefield's by half, still we are left with congregations that, before the electrical amplification of sound, were undoubtedly the largest ever reached by a human voice in all history. And this was the work of a youth of twenty-four!
One of Whitefield's chief accomplishments during these days was his leading Charles Wesley into the open-air ministry. Charles was happily engaged in doing personal work among a number of acquaintances and in preaching at a few churches and Societies. But the labor of preaching to the surging crowds in Moorfields and Kennington was a responsibility of a very different nature, one that he was not ready to accept.
Accordingly, Whitefield sought to press him into the task. He had him stand with him before some of his open-air congregations. "I attended G. Whitefield to Blackheath," he wrote of such an occasion. "He preached in the rain to many listening sinners."
A few days later Charles visited a country district, and while he was there he made his own first attempt. "Franklyn, a farmer, invited me to preach in his field. I did so to about five hundred on 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' I returned to the house rejoicing."
Yet after returning to London Charles hesitated to take the momentous step there. It meant a deep self-renunciation and a fearful burden of labor, and for a person of so poetic a nature and such adherence to churchly proprieties, the decision abounded with difficulties.
But Whitefield would not brook a long delay. Indeed, he finally informed Charles that he expected him to preach the following Sunday morning to his own congregation which would be waiting for him in Moorfields. Charles confessed,
My inward conflict continued. I perceived it was the fear of man, and that by preaching in the field next Sunday as George Whitefield urges me, I shall break down the bridge and become desperate. I retired and prayed ... for Christ's sake and the Gospel's. I was somewhat less burdened, yet could not be quite easy till I gave up all.8
Whitefield understood his man, however, and knew that since Charles was a Wesley, he could not long remain in fear of any situation. As expected, Charles did become "desperate" and broke down the bridge that Sunday, recording,
I prayed and went forth in the name of Jesus Christ. I found near ten thousand helpless sinners waiting for the Word in Moorfields. I invited them in my Master's name 'Come unto me, all ye that travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' ... My load was gone and all my doubts and scruples. God shone upon my path, and I knew this was His will concerning me.9
Two weeks later Charles stepped fully into Whitefield's Sunday labors, preaching to "near ten thousand" at Moorfields in the morning and to "double that number" at Kennington in the evening. "The Lord Almighty bowed their hearts before Him," he exclaimed.
Yet the struggle was not over by any means. Charles continued to preach in the open air, but he faced the task of adjusting to the life of extraordinary labor and the new measure of success and popularity that it brought. He stated,
I never till now knew the strength of temptation and the energy of sin. Who that conferred with flesh and blood would covet great success? I live in a continual storm. My soul is always in my hand. . . . Too well pleased with my success, which brought upon me the buffetings of Satan.10
Recognizing Whitefield's leadership in the work, Charles felt he should inform him that he was uneasy about the responsibility Whitefield had thrust upon him.
"I am continually tempted to leave off preaching," he wrote. ". . . God continues to work by me but not in me, that I can perceive. Do not reckon upon me, my brother, in the work God is doing. .. . I rejoice in your success, and pray for its increase a thousandfold."11
But Charles's retreat was only in words. He continued the ministry in the fields and became a preacher of extraordinary power. The blessing of God was on his labors, and he could say, "Every day we hear of more and more convinced and pardoned."
Having found no one to take over the Gloucester work, Whitefield had Charles make a preaching tour of the area. The new measure of self-renunciation that the field preaching required was now vividly illustrated. During their Oxford days Charles and John had been friendly with two cultured families who lived near Gloucester, the Granvilles and the Kirkhams. But Charles reports that now,
An old acquaintance (Mrs. Kirkham) stood in my way, and challenged me, 'What, Mr Wesley, is it you I see? Is it possible that you who can preach at Christ Church, St Mary's, &c., should come hither after a mob?' I cut her short with, 'The work which my Master giveth me, must I not do it' and went to my mob, or (to put it in the Pharisees' phrase) this people which is accursed. Thousands heard me gladly, while I told them of their privilege of the Holy Ghost, and exhorted them to come for Him to Christ as poor lost sinners. I continued my discourse till night.12
Charles became an open-air preacher of great power. A layman described his ministry, saying,
I found him standing on a table-board ... with his hands and eyes lifted up to heaven in prayer; he prayed with uncommon fervency, fluency, and variety of proper expressions. He then preached about an hour in such a manner as I scarce ever heard any man preach. Though I have heard many a finer sermon, according to the common taste .. . I never heard any man discover such evident signs of a vehement desire, or labour so earnestly to convince his hearers that they were all by nature in a sinful, lost, undone state. He showed how great a change a faith in Christ would produce in the whole man.
With uncommon fervour he acquitted himself as an ambassador of Christ, beseeching them in his name .. . to be reconciled to God. Although he used no notes nor had anything in his hand but a Bible, yet he delivered his thoughts in a rich copious variety of expression, and with so much propriety, that I could not observe any thing incoherent . . . through the whole performance.13
Years later, as he reflected on the days when he had first undertaken the open-air work, in lines addressed to Whitefield Charles wrote,
Nor did I linger at my friend's desire,
To tempt the furnace and abide the fire;
When suddenly sent forth, from the highways
I called poor outcasts to the feast of grace;
Urged to pursue the work by thee begun,
Through good and ill report, I still rushed on,
Nor felt the fire of popular applause,
Nor feared the torturing flame in such a glorious cause.14