As the Great Awakening gained strength, it was increasingly attacked by Old Light ministers. The leader of the Old Lights was Charles Chauncy, a Harvard-educated minister who led the First Church of Boston for more than sixty years. Chauncy detested the emotionalism of the Great Awakening, preferring instead a rationalist and intellectual approach to faith. The following selection is from a letter he wrote to a Scottish minister describing George Whitefield’s reception in the colonies.
The minds of people in this part of the world had been greatly prepossessed in favor of Mr. Whitefield, from the accounts transmitted of him, from time to time, as a wonder of piety, a man of God, so as no one was like him. Accordingly, when he came to town, about two years since, he was received as though he had been an angel of God; yea, a god come down in the likeness of man. He was strangely flocked after by all sorts of persons, and much admired by the vulgar, both great and small. The ministers had him in veneration, at least in appearance, as much as the people; encouraged his preaching, attended it themselves every day in the week, and mostly twice a day. The grand subject of conversation was Mr. Whitefield, and the whole business of the town to run from place to place to hear him preach. And as he preached under such uncommon advantages, being high in the opinion of the people and having the body of the ministers hanging on his lips, he soon insinuated himself still further into the affections of multitudes, insomuch that it became dangerous to mention his name without saying something in commendation of him. . . .
I deny not but there might be here and there a person stopped from going on in a course of sin; and some might be made really better. But so far as I could judge upon the nicest observation, the town, in general, was not much mended in those things wherein a reformation was greatly needed. I could not discern myself, nor many others whom I have talked with and challenged on this head, but that there was the same pride and vanity, the same luxury and intemperance, the same lying and tricking and cheating as before this gentleman came among us.
There was certainly no remarkable difference as to these things, and ’tis vain in any to pretend there was. This I am sure of, there was raised such a spirit of bitter, censorious, uncharitable judging as was not known before; and is, wherever it reigns, a scandal to all who call themselves Christians. Nor was it ever evident to me but that the greatest friends to Mr. Whitefield were as much puffed up with conceit and pride as any of their neighbors; and as to some of them, and the more eminent too, I verily believe they possess a worse spirit than before they heard of his name, and it had been as well for them if they had never seen his face.
Source: “A Letter from a Gentleman in Boston to Mr. George Wishart,” in The Clarendon Historical Society’s Reprints, Series 1 (Edinburgh: Clarendon Historical Society, 1883), 5–7.