In London, he had two regular spaces to gather the multitudes. One was Moorfields, the "city mall" of seventeenth-century London. Elm trees lined well-drained walks. By Whitefield's time, this was the general recreation ground of the city. The other field was Kennington Commons, a neglected waste and the place of regular executions. Etchings of the era show gallows with corpses hanging from them. Whitefield stood at least once beside the gallows and used the setting to make his appeal more solemn.

Both of these fields were what genteel society called "the domain of the rabble." Many predicted that the preacher would never come out alive. At Moorfields, the rabble amused themselves by breaking apart a table meant to be his pulpit. He climbed up on a stone wall in his robe, bands and cassock and preached the Gospel. 4

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But in a very class-conscious culture, Whitefield was an equal-opportunity evangelist. He denounced the sins of the rich and titled as well as the poor and disenfranchised. He told them all they needed a savior. The Duchess of Buckingham accepted the invitation of Lady Huntingdon to come to her manor to hear Whitefield. But she wrote in a letter her objection to Methodist preachers "perpetual endeavoring to level all ranks, and do away with all distinctions. It is monstrous to be told that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth." 5

Whitefield preached with passion. Charles Dargan, in The History of Preaching described the evangelist's preaching in terms of "intensity, passionate fervor, earnestness" 6 Tyerman's tomes and other biographers record a letter from Sarah Edwards, wife of Jonathan Edwards describing Whitefield's pulpit ministry in their church at Northampton. It is sent to prepare her brother, Rev. James Pierpont, for Whitefield's visit to New Haven.

He is a born orator. You have already heard of his deep-toned, yet clear and melodious voice. It is perfect music . . . He is a very devout and godly man, and his only aim seems to be to reach and influence men the best way. He speaks from a heart all aglow with love, and pours out a torrent of eloquence which is almost irresistible. 7

He had a consuming passion for souls. He dealt with pastoral and ethical concerns in some sermons, but he was an evangelist all his days. He made the gospel message plain and he pleaded with his hearers to come to Christ. He seldom preached without tears. Critics despised the emotion; the multitudes knew it was coming from a heart of genuine love for them. Rough men, who never felt anyone cared for them, at last saw a minister pour out his life for their souls. He was not ashamed to weep over them.

Whitefield was not as some evangelists today — all out for souls in their sermons but only in their sermons. If you spend time with some of them you are amazed that they never seem to do any personal evangelism. Whitefield said, "God forbid that I should travel with anybody a quarter of an hour without speaking of Christ to them." 8 His personal correspondence, likewise, is salted with the quest for souls. He met Ben Franklin on his first journey to Philadelphia and agreed to let the young printer publish and market his sermons. They became lifelong friends. If Franklin never became a Christian it was not for lack of witness from his friend Whitefield. Late in life, when both men were famous in America and in England, the evangelist wrote a personal letter which still pressed the claims of Christ on the American philosopher, statesman, and scientist.