should not miss of a reward. And I returned, "Don't
let me be mistaken; it was not for Christ's sake, but for your sake."
One of our common acquaintance jocosely remark'd, that, knowing it to
be the custom of the saints, when they received any favour, to shift
the burden of the obligation from off their own shoulders, and place it
in heaven, I had contriv'd to fix it on earth.

The last time I saw Mr. Whitefield was in London, when he consulted me
about his Orphan House concern, and his purpose of appropriating it to
the establishment of a college.

He had a loud and clear voice, and articulated his words and sentences
so perfectly, that he might be heard and understood at a great
distance, especially as his auditories, however numerous, observ'd the
most exact silence. He preach'd one evening from the top of the
Court-house steps, which are in the middle of Market-street, and on the
west side of Second-street, which crosses it at right angles. Both
streets were fill'd with his hearers to a considerable distance. Being
among the hindmost in Market-street, I had the curiosity to learn how
far he could be heard, by retiring backwards down the street towards
the river; and I found his voice distinct till I came near
Front-street, when some noise in that street obscur'd it. Imagining
then a semi-circle, of which my distance should be the radius, and that
it were fill'd with auditors, to each of whom I allow'd two square
feet, I computed that he might well be heard by more than thirty
thousand. This reconcil'd me to the newspaper accounts of his having
preach'd to twenty-five thousand people in the fields, and to the
antient histories of generals haranguing whole armies, of which I had
sometimes doubted.

By hearing him often, I came to distinguish easily between sermons
newly compos'd, and those which he had often preach'd in the course of
his travels. His delivery of the latter was so improv'd by frequent
repetitions that every accent, every emphasis, every modulation of
voice, was so perfectly well turn'd and well plac'd, that, without
being interested in the subject, one could not help being pleas'd with
the discourse; a pleasure of much the same kind with that receiv'd from
an excellent piece of musick. This is an advantage itinerant preachers
have over those who are stationary, as the latter can not well improve
their delivery of a sermon by so many rehearsals.

His writing and printing from time to time ga