The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, Volume 1 (of 2)Tyerman, L. (Luke)
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The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield, Volume 1 (of 2)
Tyerman, L. (Luke)
Whitefield, George, 1714-1770
"I had a sweet knot of religious friends, with whom I first
attempted to pray _extempore_. Some time, I think in October,
we began to set apart an hour every evening to intercede with
the Great Head of the Church to carry on the work begun, and
for the circle of our acquaintance, according as we knew their
circumstances required. I was their mouth unto God, and He only
knows what enlargement I felt in that Divine employ. Once we
spent a whole night in prayer and praise; and many a time, at
midnight and at one in the morning, after I had been wearied
almost to death in preaching, writing, and conversation, and
going from place to place, God imparted new life to my soul, and
enabled me to intercede with Him for an hour and a half and two
hours together. The sweetness of this exercise made me compose
my sermon upon _Intercession_, and I cannot think it presumption
to suppose that partly, at least, in answer to prayers then put
up by His dear children, the Word, for some years past, has run
and been glorified, not only in England, but in many other parts
of the world.
"It was now, I think, that I was prevailed on to sit for my
picture. The occasion was this. Some ill-minded persons had
painted me leaning on a cushion, with a bishop looking very
enviously over my shoulder. At the bottom were six lines, in
one of which the bishops were styled 'Mitred Drones.' The same
person published in the papers that I had sat for it. This
I looked upon as a snare of the devil to incense the clergy
against me. I consulted friends what to do. They told me I must
sit for my picture in my own defence. At the same time, my aged
mother laid her commands upon me to do so, urging 'that if I
would not let her have the substance, I would leave her at least
the shadow.' She also mentioned the painter, and, meeting with
him one night, accidentally, I, with great reluctance, complied,
and endeavoured, whilst the painter was drawing my face, to
employ my time in beseeching the great God, by His Holy Spirit,
to paint His blessed image upon my heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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