The next Sabbath, Sept. 30, 1770; that memorable day! that blessed day to Whitefield! that blessed day to me! The minister of our town went to Portsmouth to preach at the great meetinghouse, and I went with him. At noon, as I went from the place of worship, I stopped with an acquaintance at Packer's corner; and a man came riding along, and as he rode, he cried, "Mr. Whitefield is dead. He died this morning at Newbury about six o'clock." As soon as...