As winter was now approaching, Whitefield felt it important to return to the metropolis. During the tour he had made, he won to Christ not a few of those who afterwards laid the foundations of churches now flourishing in the counties of Lancaster, York, and Northumberland. He met, however, with so much "rude treatment here and there, as sent him home praying, 'Lord, give me a pilgrim heart for my pilgrim life.'" He was now in "winter quarters," but was neither idle nor useless. To use his own words, "The glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle, and the shout of a king was in the camp," and that from week to week. "Thousands, thousands crowded to hear." Every day also he heard of instances of conversion. One of these pleased him greatly. It was that of a boatswain, who, before hearing him, knew no more about divine truth "than the whistle he blew on board." He mentions also a boy eleven years of age, a woman of eighty, and a baker, who had been "a Jerusalem sinner," all of whom bowed before the cross, and placed their hopes of salvation on Him who died thereon. CHAPTER XII. LABORS IN GREAT BRITAIN--FOURTH VISIT TO AMERICA--NEW TABERNACLE IN LONDON, AND TABERNACLE AT BRISTOL. 1750-1754. At the beginning of the year 1750, Whitefield was still in London. At this time his intended college at Bethesda occupied much of his attention. He wrote to his friends in every quarter for help. His usual appeal was, "We propose having an academy or college at the orphan-house. The house is large, and will hold a hundred. My _heart_, I trust, is larger, and will hold ten thousand." Though in London, his heart was in America. He says, "Ranging seems my province; and methinks I hear a voice behind me saying, 'This is the way, walk in it.' My heart echoes back, 'Lord, let thy presence go with me, and then send me where thou pleasest.' In the midst of all, America, _dear_ America, is not forgotten. I begin to count the days, and to say to the months, 'Fly fast away, that I may spread the gospel-net once more in dear America.'" Be it here mentioned, that amid the busy scenes of his life, and while surrounded with the flatteries of the great and noble, Whitefield did not forget the duties he owed to his mother. A person whom he had employed to obtain some comforts for her, had neglected the duty, so that the now aged matron might have felt a week's anxiety. He wrote to her, "I should never forgive myself, was I, by negligence or any wrong conduct, to give you a moment's needless pain. Alas, how little have I done for you. Christ's care for his mother excites me to wish I could do any thing for you. If you would have any thing more brought, pray write, honored mother. * * * Tomorrow it will be _thirty-five_ years since you brought unworthy me into the world. O that my head were waters, and mine eyes fountains of tears, that I might bewail my barrenness and unfruitfulness in the church of God."