"I warn you of the great danger those are in, who, either by their subscriptions, presence, or approbation, promote Societies of a quite opposite nature to religion. And here I would not be understood to mean only those public meetings which are designed manifestly for nothing else but revellings and banquetings, for chambering and wantonness, and at which a modest _heathen_ would blush to be present; but also those seemingly _innocent_ entertainments and meetings which the _politer_ part of the world are so very fond of, and spend so much time in; but which, notwithstanding, keep as many persons out of a sense of _true religion_ as intemperance, debauchery, or any other crime whatever. Indeed, whilst we are in this world, we must have proper relaxations, to fit us both for the business of our profession and religion. But then, for persons who call themselves _Christians_, that have solemnly vowed at their _baptism_, to renounce the _vanities_ of this sinful world, and that are commanded in Scripture to '_abstain from all appearance of evil_,' and to have their '_conversation in heaven_,'--for such persons as these to support meetings that (to say no worse of them) are vain and trifling, and have a natural tendency to draw off our minds from God, is absurd, ridiculous, and sinful." [59] Whitefield's Life and Journals, 1756, p. 24. This certainly was plain speaking in the first sermon of a young man only a little more than twenty-one years of age; but it is exactly what might be expected from an Oxford Methodist; and something like it is greatly needed, and would be highly useful in the pulpits of the present day. Would that preachers now had more of the uncompromising, bold, conscientious fidelity that marked the young evangelist among his townsmen in the Church of St. Mary de Crypt, Gloucester! Prophets "prophesy smooth things; and the people love to have it so." It was otherwise with Whitefield. "I must tell them the truth," said he to his friend only a few hours before he preached his first sermon, "I must tell them the truth, or I shall not be a faithful minister of Christ." From this he never swerved. To the end of life it was one of his great guiding principles. It often brought upon him the ridicule of wicked wits, and the displeasure of many who imagined themselves Christians; but to all this Whitefield was indifferent. His Master was Christ; and, "to his own Master," he was determined to stand or fall (Rom. xiv. 4). Not long before his death, he said, "I remember when I began to speak against baptismal regeneration--in my first sermon, printed when I was about twenty-two years old, or a little more--the first quarrel many had with me was because I did not say that all people who were baptized were born again. I would as soon believe the doctrine of transubstantiation. Can I believe that a person who, from the time