s; in Hyde
Park at midnight, in darkness which might be felt, when men's hearts
were panic-stricken at the prospect of the approaching earthquake, which
was to be the precursor of the end of the world; on Hampton Common,
surrounded by twelve thousand people, collected to see a man hung in
chains--the scenery would all lend effect to the great preacher's
utterances. Outdoor preaching was what he loved best. He felt 'cribbed,
cabined, and confined' within any walls. 'Mounts,' he said, 'are the
best pulpits, and the heavens the best sounding-boards.' 'I always find
I have most power when I speak in the open air--a proof to me that God
is pleased with this way of preaching.'[749] 'Every one hath his proper
gift. Field-preaching is my plan. In this I am carried as on eagle's
wings. God makes way for me everywhere.'[750]

In dwelling upon these secondary causes of Whitefield's success as a
preacher it is by no means intended to lose sight of the great First
Cause. God, who can make the weak things of this world to confound the
mighty, could and did work for the revival of religion by this weak
instrument. But God works through human agencies; and it is no
derogation to the power of His grace, but simply tracing out the laws by
which that grace works, when we note the human and natural agencies
which all contributed to lend a charm to Whitefield's preaching. The
difficulty of accounting for that charm is not so great as would at
first sight appear. Indeed, immeasurably superior as Wesley's printed
sermons are to Whitefield's in depth of thought, closeness of reasoning,
and purity of diction, it is more difficult to explain the _excitement_
which the older and far abler man produced than to explain that which
attended the younger man's oratory. For Wesley--if we may judge from his
printed sermons--carefully eschewed everything that would be called in
the present day 'sensational.' Plain, downright common sense, expressed
in admirably chosen but studiously simple language, formed the staple of
his preaching. One can quite well understand anyone being convinced and
edified by such discourses, but there is nothing in them which is
apparently calculated to produce the extraordinary excitement which, in
a second degree only to Whitefield, Wesley did in fact arouse.

Preaching was Whitefield's great work in life,--and his work was also
his pleasure. 'O that I could fly from pole to pole,' he exclaimed,
'preaching the everlasting Gos