[62] "Further Account of God's Dealings with George Whitefield, 1747," p. 6.
Whitefield was happy--happy in himself, in his associates, in his work, and in his hope of heaven. A week after his arrival at Oxford, he wrote:--
"The very idea of what we are to be in glory transports me. There, there, we shall see the blessed Jesus, whom our souls have so eagerly thirsted after in this life, surrounded with glory, and attended with myriads of His holy angels, who will rejoice at our safe arrival to their holy mansions, and with repeated echoes will welcome us to heaven. There, there, we shall not only see, but live with Him, not for a day, a month, a year, an age, but to all eternity. And who can tell the pleasure, comfort, peace, joy, delight, and transport a glorified saint will feel in the possession of his wished-for, longed-for, ever adorable, ever gracious, blessed, beloved triune God, and that for ever? Surely the happiness will be so great, that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the heart of man conceive the thousandth part thereof."
For a few weeks Whitefield devoted himself to the work of endeavouring to benefit the prisoners in Oxford gaol; and then wrote as follows:--
"I began to be more than content in my present state of life, and had thoughts of abiding at the University, at least for some years, to finish my studies, and do what good I could amongst the poor despised Methodists. But, by a series of unforeseen, unexpected, and unsought-for providences, I was called from my beloved retirement to take a journey to the Metropolis. Whilst I was an undergraduate, I was very intimate with one Mr. Broughton,[63] a professed Methodist, who had lately taken orders, and was curate at the Tower of London. With him, when absent, I frequently corresponded; and, when present, we took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God as friends. Being called down into Hampshire, he wrote me to be of good courage, and bid me hasten to town to officiate in his absence. Accordingly, on Wednesday, August 4th, (the prisoners being provided for by the coming of Mr. Hervey,[64] another young worthy Methodist, who had lately taken Deacon's Orders,) with fear and trembling, I obeyed the summons, and went in the stage coach to London. There being no other passenger, I employed myself a good part of the way in earnest supplication to the God of all grace to be my guide and comforter. In the evening, I reached the Tower, and was kindly received by my dear friend. The remainder of the week was spent in visiting Sir John Philips, etc., who were too glad to see me. But God sent me something to ballast it; for, as I passed along the streets, many came out of their shops to see so young a person in a gown and cassock; and one cried out, 'There's a boy parson;' which served to mortify my pride, and put me also upon turning the apostolical exhortation into prayer, 'Let no man despise thy youth.'"[65]