"I heartily thank your lordship for your intended benefaction. I think the design is truly good, and will meet with success, because so much opposed. "God knows my heart. I desire only to promote His glory. If I am spoken evil of, for His sake, I rejoice in it. My Master was long since spoken evil of before me. But I intrude on your lordship's patience. "I am, with all possible thanks, my lord, your lordship's dutiful son and servant, "GEORGE WHITEFIELD." So the matter ended. Curiosity would like to know what a man so eminent as Bishop Butler thought of the young Methodist, and what he said to him; but, unfortunately, the bishop's sentiments are not producible. What was Whitefield to do next? He might at once have gone back to Georgia; but he wanted money to erect his Orphan House, and was not content to return without it. Besides, he seemed to consider the prohibition to preach in churches a kind of call to preach elsewhere. Preach he must. God had called him to the work. By the Bishop of Gloucester, he had been ordained to it. If churches were inaccessible, his only alternative was to make use of private houses, public rooms, and open fields. The Religious Societies gladly accepted his services. He speaks of the Room of the Baldwin Street Society, together with the stairs and the court below, being crowded with people, profoundly attentive and powerfully affected. Here his expositions, more than once, were of two hours' duration; and, at one of the meetings, upwards of £5 was collected for his Orphan House. At his farewell service, the crowd about the place was such, that he had to climb a ladder, and go over the roof of an adjoining house, in order to get into the Room. The meeting-place of the Nicholas Street Society was quite as thronged as that of Baldwin Street; and here, by his recommendation, a charity school was opened, for which, he says, "I collected at the door myself, and few passed by without throwing in their mites." The Room of the Society without Lawford's Gate seems to have been connected with the parish poorhouse, and was sometimes so crowded, that Whitefield had to preach from the steps leading to the door, and sometimes to stand at the window, and there preach to those outside and those within. On one occasion, at the poorhouse, he made a collection for his contemplated orphanage; "and the poor people," says he, "so loaded my hat, that I wanted some one to hold up my hands. The cheerfulness with which they gave was inexpressible; and the many prayers they joined with their alms will, I hope, lay a good foundation for the house intended to be built." When Newgate was closed against him, he wrote:--