*England; fourthly, to all the good people in New-England; fifthly, to all the good people of York; and sixthly and lastly, to me, dear Sir, less than the least of all." He then urged me to give them a sermon. Too forward to reingage in my old delightful work, I complied, notwithstanding at the same time word had been sent to Boston that I was dying; upon which, my dear Gaius and a beloved physician came, either to take care of me, or attend my funeral; but to their great surprize they found me in the pulpit. God was with me but imprudently going over the ferry to Portsmouth, I caught cold, immediately relapsed, and was taken, as every one thought, with death, in my dear friend Mr. Sherburne's house. My pains returned; but what gave me most concern was, that notice had been given of my being to preach the next evening. A great number of ministers and people flocked to hear; three physicians attended me, and Colonel Pepperel with many others were so kind as to pay me a visit and sympathize with me. God dealt so bountifully with me, that I was enabled to tell the Colonel in particular, from heart-experience, that I felt a divine life distinct from my animal life, which made me as it were to laugh at pain; this made me determine to get up and preach, though the General and all had left me, and the person appointed to lecture in my stead was just going out of the house. My dear York physician was then about to administer a medicine. I on a sudden cried, "Doctor, my pains are suspended: by the help of God I'll go and preach, and then come home and die." With some difficulty I reached the pulpit. All looked quite surprized, as though they saw one rose from the dead. Indeed, I was as pale as death, and told them "they must look upon me as a dying man, that I came to bear my dying testimony to the truths I had formerly preached amongst them, and to the invisible realities of another world." Nature (by my continuing an hour in my discourse) was almost quite exhausted; but O what life! what power spread all around! All seemed to be melted, and were drowned in tears. The cry after me, when I left the pulpit, was like the cry of sincere mourners when attending the funeral of a dear departed friend. Upon my coming home, I was laid on a bed upon the ground near the fire, and I heard them say, "He is gone;" but still, you find by this
Page:The Works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., late of Pembroke-College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Rt. Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon (1771 Volume 2).djvu/77
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