He accordingly went up to London to tender his services to Oglethorpe and the Trustees; by whom he was accepted; and he left London on the latter part of December, 1737, in the 23d year of his age, to take passage in the Whitaker, Captain Whiting, master, on a voyage to Georgia. It was, however, the end of January before the vessel was fairly on its way, in consequence of contrary winds. They sailed from the Downs a few hours only before the vessel, which brought Wesley back, cast anchor there. He was attended on his passage by the Honorable James Habersham and his brother. They landed, after rather a circuitous and long passage, on the 7th of May, 1738. Delamotte, whom Wesley had left schoolmaster at Savannah, received him at the Parsonage house, which he found much better than he expected. Having met with some of his predecessor's converts there, he read prayers on the morrow, and expounded, in the Court-house, and waited on the magistrates; but, being taken ill of a fever and ague, he was confined to the house for a week. Being informed that Tomo Chichi was sick, nigh unto death, as soon as he could venture abroad he made him a visit. The Mico lay on a blanket, thin and meagre. Scenawki, his wife, sat by, fanning him with feathers. There was none who could speak English, so that Mr. Whitefield could only shake hands with him and leave him. A few days after he went again, and finding Toonahowi there, who could speak English, "I desired him," says Whitefield, "to ask his uncle whether he thought he should die;" who answered, "I cannot tell." I then asked, where he thought he should go, after death? He replied "To heaven." But alas! a further questioning led the solemn visiter to an unfavorable opinion of his preparedness for such a state of purity. When Whitefield had recovered so as to commence his labors, he remarked that every part bore the aspect of an infant colony; that, besides preaching twice a day, and four times on the Lord's day, he visited from house to house, and was in general cordially received, and always respectfully; "but from time to time found that _caelum non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt_. 'Those who cross the seas, change their climate, but not their disposition.'" Though lowered in their circumstances, a sense of what they formerly were in their native country remained. It was plainly to be seen that coming over was not so much a matter of choice as of restraint; choosing rather to be poor in an unknown country abroad, than to live among those who knew them in more affluent circumstances at home.[1] [Footnote 1: Gillies' _Memoirs of Whitefield_, p. 27.]