Chapter L: Tyerman (18)

Kinchin being elected Dean of Corpus Christi, was now frequently obliged to reside at Oxford; but he still retained his rectory at Dummer, where Whitefield was succeeded by Hervey. The Dean, however, continued faithful to the principles of the Methodists, and, on the removal of Hervey, Whitefield, and others from the University, willingly took upon himself the spiritual charge of the Oxford prisoners. Charles Wesley on his return from Georgia, hastened to Oxford, where, in February, 1737, he met with his “old pupil, Robert Kirkham,” “good Mr. Gambold,” “poor languid Smith,” and “Mr. Kinchin,” whom, says he, “I found changed into a courageous soldier of Christ.” A year afterwards, W. Seward, speaks of Kinchin _expounding_ at Oxford, and of “forty gownsmen” being among his auditors.[278]

On March 15th, 1738, Wesley and Kinchin set out for Manchester, accompanied by Kinchin, and a Mr. Fox, who had been an inmate of Oxford prison. An extract from Wesley’s Journal will help to illustrate the character, not of Wesley only, but, of Kinchin. Wesley writes:—

“1738. Tuesday, March 14. I set out,” from Oxford, “for
Manchester, with Mr. Kinchin, Fellow of Corpus Christi, and
Mr. Fox, late a prisoner in the city prison. Between five and
six, we called at Chapel-on-the-Heath; where lived a poor man,
sometime prisoner in the castle of Oxford. He was not at home;
but his wife came to us, to whom Mr. Kinchin spoke a few words,
which so melted her heart, that she burst out into tears, and
we went on rejoicing and praising God.

“About eight, it being rainy and very dark, we lost our way;
but, before nine, came to Shipston, having rode over, I know
not how, a narrow foot-bridge, which lay across a deep ditch
near the town. After supper, I read prayers to the people of
the inn, and explained the Second Lesson; I hope not in vain.”

There is something beautiful in all this:—the two Oxford Methodists and an ex-prisoner, in a dark and rainy night, making the lanes ring with their praises to the Almighty, and, in the absence of a church, using a country inn, for reading the Church liturgy and expounding the word of God. Wesley proceeds:—

“The next day, we dined at Birmingham, and, soon after we left
it, were reproved for our negligence there, in letting those,
who attended us, go without either exhortation or instruction,
by a severe shower of hail. At Hedgeford, about five, we
endeavoured to be more faithful; and all who heard seemed
serious and affected.”

Here, again, is a useful lesson. As yet, neither Wesley nor Kinchin had found peace with God, by trustful faith in Christ. They were, if the reader likes the designation, _legalists_,—men seeking to be saved by their own good works. Be it so; but, in their conscientiousness with regard to duty, and in their earnest desire to be useful to their fellow-men, they set an example to Christian travellers, which is not generally followed. Wesley continues:—

“In the evening, we came to Stafford. The mistress of the house
joined with us in family prayer. The next morning, one of the
servants appeared deeply affected, as did the ostler, before we
went. Soon after breakfast, stepping into the stable, I spake
a few words to those who were there. A stranger, who heard
me, said, ‘Sir, I wish I was to travel with you;’ and, when I
went into the house, followed me, and began abruptly, ‘Sir, I
believe you are a good man, and I come to tell you a little of
my life.’ The tears stood in his eyes all the time he spoke;
and we hoped not a word which was said to him was lost.

“At Newcastle, whither we came about ten, some, to whom we
spoke at our inn, were very attentive; but a gay young woman
waited on us, quite unconverted: however, we spoke on. When we
went away, she fixed her eyes, and neither moved nor said one
word, but appeared as much astonished as if she had seen one
risen from the dead.

“Coming to Holms-Chapel about three, we were surprised at being
shown into a room where a cloth and plates were laid. Soon
after, two men came in to dinner. Mr. Kinchin told them, if
they pleased, that gentleman would ask a blessing for them.
They stared, and, as it were, consented; but sat still while
I did it, one of them with his hat on. We began to speak on
turning to God, and went on, though they appeared utterly
regardless. After a while, their countenances changed, and one
of them stole off his hat, and, laying it down behind him,
said, all we said was true; but he had been a grievous sinner,
and not considered it as he ought; but he was resolved, with
God’s help, now to turn to Him in earnest. We exhorted him and
his companion, who now likewise drank in every word, to cry
mightily to God, that, He would ‘send them help from His holy
place.’

“Being faint in the evening, I called at Altrincham, and there
lit upon a Quaker, well skilled in, and therefore, as I soon
found, sufficiently fond of controversy. After an hour spent
therein, perhaps not in vain, I advised him to dispute as
little as possible; but rather follow after holiness, and walk
humbly with his God.”

Men like Kinchin and Wesley will never be without adventures. This long three days’ journey, in the wintry weather, was filled with incidents, by the earnest efforts of the travellers to be of service to those with whom they met. They were scholars, gentlemen, and philanthropists. Religion was all in all to them. They lived it; looked it; breathed it. Everywhere, in the humble home of the quondam prisoner, the town hotel, the country inn, and the ostler’s stable,—among waiters, fellow-travellers, and disputatious Quakers,—they were equally about their Master’s business. Would, that, in these days of unequalled locomotion, men of such a spirit and of such behaviour were multiplied!

Three days were spent in Manchester, one of them “entirely with Mr. Clayton, by whom,” says Wesley, “and the rest of our friends here, we were much refreshed and strengthened.” On the Sunday, both the Oxford Methodists “officiated at Salford Chapel”; and, on Monday, March 20th, they set out on their return to Oxford. Wesley writes:—

“Early in the morning, we left Manchester, taking with us Mr.
Kinchin’s brother, for whom we came, to be entered at Oxford.
We were fully determined to lose no opportunity of awakening,
instructing, or exhorting, any whom we might meet with on
our journey. At Knutsford, where we first stopped, all we
spake to thankfully received the word of exhortation. But, at
Talk-on-the-Hill, where we dined, she with whom we were was
so much of a gentlewoman, that, for near an hour, our labour
seemed to be in vain. However, we spoke on. Upon a sudden, she
looked as one just awakened out of sleep. Every word sunk into
her heart. Nor have I seen so entire a change, both in the
eyes, face, and manner of speaking, of any one in so short a
time.

“About five, Mr. Kinchin riding by a man and woman
double-horsed, the man said, ‘Sir, you ought to thank God it is
a fair day; for, if it rained, you would be sadly dirty with
your little horse.’ Mr. Kinchin answered, ‘True; and we ought
to thank God for our life, and health, and food, and raiment,
and all things.’ He then rode on, Mr. Fox following; the man
said, ‘Sir, my mistress would be glad to have some more talk
with that gentleman.’ We stayed, and when they came up began
to search one another’s hearts. They came to us again in the
evening, at our inn at Stone, where I explained both to them
and many of their acquaintance, who were come together, that
great truth,—godliness hath the promise both of this life, and
of that which is to come.

“Tuesday, March 21. Between nine and ten, we came to Hedgeford.
Just then, one was giving an account of a young woman, who had
dropped down dead there the day before. This gave us a fair
occasion to exhort all that were present, ‘so to number’ their
‘days,’ that, they might apply their ‘hearts unto wisdom.’

“In the afternoon, one overtook us, whom we soon found more
inclined to speak than to hear. However, we spoke, and spared
not. In the evening, we overtook a young man, a Quaker, who
afterwards came to us, to our inn at Henley, whither he sent
for the rest of his family, to join with us in prayer; to which
I added, as usual, the exposition of the Second Lesson. Our
other companion went with us a mile or two in the morning; and
then not only spoke less than the day before, but took in good
part a serious caution against talkativeness and vanity.

“An hour after, we were overtook by an elderly gentleman, who
said he was going to enter his son at Oxford. We asked, ‘At
what college?’ He said, he did not know; having no acquaintance
there on whose recommendation he could depend. After some
conversation, he expressed a deep sense of the providence of
God; and told us, he knew God had cast us in his way, in answer
to his prayer. In the evening, we reached Oxford, rejoicing
in our having received so many fresh instances of that great
truth, ‘In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct
thy paths.’”

In a moral and religious sense, this episode in the lives of the two Oxford Methodists is pre-eminently picturesque. The two were of one mind and heart, and all their energies and time were devoted to the service of their great Master.

Four days were spent at Oxford, during which Wesley met Böhler, and was “amazed more and more, by the account he gave of the fruits of living faith,—the holiness and happiness which he affirmed to attend it.” And, on Easter Monday, April 3rd, at Kinchin’s desire, Wesley went with him to Dummer, where he remained, for him, the unusually lengthened period of a fortnight. Here they doubtless pondered Böhler’s doctrines, and brought them to the test of Scripture; and here, perhaps, was held a meeting, which Wesley mentions, without giving the date and place of it.

“Soon after my return to England,” he writes, “I had a meeting
with Messrs. Ingham, Stonehouse, Hall, Hutchins, Kinchin, and
a few other clergymen, who all appeared to be of one heart, as
well as of one judgment, resolved to be Bible-Christians at
all events; and, wherever they were, to preach, with all their
might, plain old Bible Christianity.”[279]

Among others at Dummer, in whose religious interests Wesley took an active interest, was Kinchin’s sister, who, three weeks after his departure, wrote to him, as follows:—

“You have been, I hope, an instrument, under God, of reclaiming
me. I certainly was in a very unhappy state when you were here.
God will recompense you for your prayers and kind offices. May
my good God pour down the choicest of His blessings upon you,
your mother, brothers, and sisters, and give us all grace, to
strive and struggle against our sins. I beg you to join with
me, in praying God to show forth His power in me. What a frail
creature am I? I am afraid, I am sorely afraid, of falling
back. What shall I do? What shall I do? O pray, I may put my
whole trust in God, who is able and willing to help me.”[280]

Kinchin himself also wrote to Wesley the following simple and humble letter:—

“_May 2, 1738._

“REV. AND DEAR SIR,—My Lord and my God has made His servant
a minister of the Gospel of His Son. He has committed to my
care many immortal souls. And I am but a little child. I know
not how to go out, or come in. Pray, therefore, earnestly for
me, that, God would give His servant an understanding heart,
to lead and instruct His people; that, I may discern between
what is good and bad; for who is able to walk discreetly and
uprightly before such a worldly-minded and refractory people? I
beg the prayers and directions of my friends.

“My sister is much mended in health. She has received much
benefit from you, under God, as to her spiritual concerns.

“Pray, write speedily to your sincere friend and servant,

“C. KINCHIN.”[281]

Letters like these show the religious confidence and friendship which Kinchin and his sister cherished towards Wesley.

Kinchin, as yet, was only a penitent inquirer. In the month of August, 1738, Charles Wesley went to Oxford, and met him and Gambold, who, says he, “surprised me, by receiving my hard saying, that they had not faith. I was ashamed to see the great thankfulness, and child-like loving spirit of Mr. Kinchin, even before justification.” They attended together a Society meeting, where C. Wesley read his sermon on, “The Scripture hath concluded all under sin.” He writes,—

“I urged upon each my usual question, ‘Do you deserve to be
damned?’ Mrs. Platt, with the utmost vehemence, cried out,
‘Yes, I do, I do!’ I prayed, that, if God saw there any
contrite soul, He would fulfil His promise, of coming and
making His abode with it. ‘If Thou hast sent Thy Spirit to
reprove any sinner of sin, in the name of Jesus Christ, I claim
salvation for that sinner.’ Again Mrs. Platt broke out into
strong cries, but of joy, not sorrow, being quite overpowered
with the love of Christ. I asked her, if she believed in Jesus.
She answered in full assurance of faith. We sang and rejoiced
over her (she still continued kneeling); but her voice was
heard above ours. Mr. Kinchin asked, ‘Have you forgiveness of
sins?’ ‘I am perfectly assured I have.’ ‘Have you the earnest
of the Spirit in your heart?’ ‘I have; I know I have: I feel
it now within.’ Her answers to these and the like questions,
were expressive of the strongest confidence, to the great
encouragement of all present.”[282]

This, especially at the time, was a strange scene; and Kinchin was there as a listener and a learner. Soon after this, the two Wesleys and Whitefield were almost uniformly excluded from the pulpits of the Established Church. During the year 1739, Wesley himself was not allowed to preach in more than eight; and one of these was the pulpit of his friend Kinchin. In the month of March, when at Oxford, he wrote,—

“At my return to Mrs. Fox’s, I found our dear brother Kinchin,
just come from Dummer. We rejoiced, and gave thanks, and
prayed, and took sweet counsel together; the result of which
was, instead of setting out for London, as I designed, I set
out for Dummer, there being no person to supply his church on
Sunday.”

Wesley, and his brother, and Whitefield were now, by force of circumstances, evangelistic itinerants; ordained clergymen, without churches, and yet preaching everywhere; and Kinchin was inclined to join them. It was, at this momentous period, that Hervey wrote to him the letter, dated, “April 18, 1739,” an extract from which has been already given (see page 220). Whether that letter turned him from his purpose, there is no means of knowing. Any how, his decision, comparatively speaking, was of little consequence, for his work was nearly ended. In spirit, in aim, and in doctrine, however, he thoroughly sympathized with his outcast brethren, and, in time of need, sought their counsel and their prayers. The following is an extract from a long letter addressed to Wesley, and hitherto unpublished.[283]

“DUMMER, _October 9, 1739_.

“MY DEAR BROTHER,—I am just setting out for Oxford, and
thence, probably, for London, in order to print my sermon, on
the Necessity and Work of the New Birth. I have revised and
enlarged it, have made a Preface, and also written a Dedication
to the vice-chancellor, Dr. Mather, the Heads of Houses,
with their Societies. Mr. Hutchins has perused the whole.
I shall have him at Dummer while I am absent. I asked the
vice-Chancellor for the use of the University press; but his
answer was, that, he could not consent to it. I have written
him a letter, desiring him to peruse the discourse, before
he absolutely refuses the press; but he has made no reply. I
propose, therefore, to wait upon him at Oxford, to know whether
he received my letter. I also intend to ask Mr. Gambold and Mr.
Wills to peruse my sermon. If I had any opportunity, I would
be glad for you to see it too. I desire your prayers, and the
prayers of your friends around you, that, God will bless my
journey, and my design in publishing the discourse.

“We all join in love to you, and all around you; and constantly
pray for you, and desire your prayers. If you write within a
week, direct to Mr. Fox’s.

“Your unworthy brother,

“C. KINCHIN.”

In a little more than two years after this, Kinchin entered into rest. Wesley writes:—

“1742. January 4. This day, I understand, poor Charles Kinchin
died.

“Cui pudor, et justitia soror,
Incorrupta fides, nudaque veritas,
Quando ullum invenient parem?”

This was high praise from a man like Wesley; but it was not unmerited.

REV. RICHARD HUTCHINS, D.D.

It has been already stated, that, Dr. Hutchins was Hervey’s tutor. We have no further information concerning him, except the following, kindly supplied, from the Register of Lincoln College, Oxford, by the present Rector:—

“1720. December 8. Richard Hutchins, B.A., was admitted to the
rights and privileges of a Fellow of Lincoln College.”

“1739. November 6. Mr. Hutchins was chosen Sub-Rector.”

“1742. November 6. Mr. Hutchins was chosen Bursar and
Librarian.”

“1755. July 9. Richard Hutchins, D.D., Fellow in one of the
Founder’s Fellowships for the Diocese of Lincoln, was, on
this day, unanimously elected Rector of this College. And
straightway a letter was drawn up, in the very words prescribed
by the College Statutes, in order to its being sent to the Lord
Bishop of Lincoln, sealed with the college seal, and subscribed
by all the electors present, certifying their said election to
his lordship, and praying him to admit to the Rectorship of
this College the said Richard Hutchins, Sub-Rector.”

“Dr. Richard Hutchins, our late worthy Rector, departed this
life, on Friday, 10th August, 1781.”

The only publication by Dr. Hutchins, which we have seen, is a Latin sermon, delivered at the time of his being made Doctor of Divinity, in 1747, and with the following title,—“Elucidatio Sexti Capitis Evangelii secundem Johannem, in solenni Praelectione habita in Schola Theologica Oxon, pro Gradu Doctoris in Theologia. A. Ric. Hutchins, S. T. B. Colleg. Lincoln Socio., 1747,” 8 vol. 51 pp. The sermon is learned and spiritual; and the reader may infer what were the views and sympathies of its author, when it is stated, that, the third and _principal_ division, is, that, the body and blood of Christ are communicated to the faithful in the Eucharist. In more respects than one, Dr. Hutchins continued an Oxford Methodist long after all his old friends had been dispersed.

REV. CHRISTOPHER ATKINSON.

In the Parish Register of Thorp-Arch, near to Wetherby, in the county of York, there is the following entry, in Christopher Atkinson’s own hand-writing:—

“The Rev. Christopher Atkinson, born in the parish of
Windermere, Westmoreland, April, 1713, was inducted Vicar of
Thorp-Arch and Walton, in July, 1749.”[284]

Here, for a quarter of a century, Mr. Atkinson lived and laboured. He and Ingham were not distant neighbours, and close at hand were flourishing societies of Methodists; and, yet, there is no evidence, that either Ingham, the Wesleys or Whitefield ever paid him visits. Why was this? It is impossible to tell. The two villages of Thorp-Arch and Walton were small, not containing a population of more than about three hundred each; but they were not remote from Otley, Leeds, and York, places which Wesley, at least, often visited.

Mr. Atkinson had a large family, and a church income hardly equal to his wants.[285] One of his sons, the Rev. Miles Atkinson, rose to considerable eminence. Besides being Vicar of Kippax, Lecturer of the parish church in Leeds, and Incumbent of St. Paul’s, in that important town, he was the author of “Practical Sermons,” in two octavo volumes, and had the honour of being sneered at by the half-infidel _Monthly Review_ of the period in which he lived. The famous “Billy” Dawson was greatly benefited by his ministry and friendship in early life; and, in 1779, at Atkinson’s request, Wesley preached in the parish church, at Leeds, to such a congregation as had seldom been assembled within its walls. In spirit and in doctrine, Miles Atkinson was thoroughly in harmony with the Methodists; and, from such a circumstance, perhaps, it may with safety be inferred, that, in this respect, he was walking in the footsteps of his father.

A happy death is generally the sequence of a holy and useful life; and such a death was that of Atkinson, the Oxford Methodist. The details are here given in the language of the son just mentioned. He visited him on the day of his decease, and thus writes:—

“My father walked out of doors to the very last, even in the
morning of the day he died. I said to him, ‘I hope, sir,
your confidence is in the Lord Jesus Christ.’ He answered,
‘Entirely. I have no hope or confidence but in Him only. I am
very sensible, that, I am, in myself, a poor, guilty, helpless
sinner before God. I find, I have been guilty of every sin.
There is not a commandment which I have not broken; but the
Lord Jesus Christ is my Saviour. His blood is sufficient for
me. I rest upon His promises, and, (laying his head upon his
breast and looking up) ‘I feel the Spirit of God now supporting
me.’

“Two of his twelve children had not arrived; but, fearing his
understanding might begin to fail, I asked him if he would like
my mother and the rest of his children to be called up, that we
might pray together, and receive his blessing. He immediately
assented, and desired me to pray. The scene was very affecting.
He seemed to be very fervent; and, when the prayer was over,
he tenderly and affectionately saluted us all, and invoked the
blessing of God in Christ Jesus. Soon after, he spoke to me
about the place in the churchyard, where he wished his body
to be laid, and then said, ‘Oh, son, I now feel the vanity of
life. We often talk in health about its emptiness; but this is
the trying hour. I now experience it. My God! what a condition
should I now be in, if the business of eternity was unbegun!’
And, then, he proceeded to speak of Christ and the happiness
of heaven. His voice faltered; but, at one time, I heard him
say ‘Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly;’ and, at another, ‘I have
finished my course, I have fought the good fight. Henceforth,
there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the
Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me in that day.’ He next
addressed his children, and said, ‘My dear children, whatever
you have seen faulty in me, be careful to avoid; if you have
seen anything praiseworthy, that imitate and pursue. But, oh!
mind the one thing needful. Let God be your portion. Seek unto
Him through the gracious Redeemer, and doubt not but He will
provide for you what is necessary in this world. My dear wife,
trust in God. O, my God, look down upon this my family, and let
Thy blessing rest upon them! Guide them by Thy blessed Spirit!’

“He continued praying, in a kind of feeble murmur until about
the three last breaths he drew; and then, at half-past four
o’clock, on Monday afternoon, July 11, 1774, expired, aged
sixty-one years, leaving behind him a wife and twelve children.

“His last words to one of his daughters were, ‘My love, would
you recall me from happiness?’”

Christopher Atkinson lies interred in the burial ground of Thorp-Arch church, of which he was the minister for five-and-twenty years.

REV. JOHN WHITELAMB.

John Whitelamb, the son of poor parents, was born in 1707, in the neighbourhood of Wroot, a small village of about three hundred inhabitants, in the county of Lincoln. The village stands upon an eminence, surrounded by 60,000 acres of land, which, in Whitelamb’s days, were often flooded, rendering Wroot accessible only by boats. The land, also, even at the best of times, was fenny, moorish, swampy.

About the time of Whitelamb’s birth, Henry Travis, Esq., of London, bequeathed three hundred and seventy-nine acres of land, for the endowment of three schools, at Wroot, Hatfield, and Thorne, in which children, male and female, were to be taught to read English, especially the Bible and Catechism, and to be well instructed in the principles of the Christian religion. The Archbishop of York was to be special visitor; the children were to be elected by the clergyman of each of the three respective parishes, and by his churchwardens; and on leaving school, and attaining the age of seventeen, each scholar was to be presented with a Bible and the “Whole Duty of Man.” It was in the charity school, at Wroot, that Whitelamb received the rudiments of his education.

It is well known, that, Wesley’s father was rector of both Epworth and Wroot, and that his greatest literary work was his “Dissertationes in Librum Jobi,” a large-size folio book of 600 pages. Samuel Wesley was employed upon this remarkable production for more than five-and-twenty years. On leaving school, young Whitelamb became his amanuensis. For four years, he was occupied in transcribing the aged rector’s Dissertations. He also designed its illustrations, several of which he also engraved.

While resident beneath the roof of Samuel Wesley, Whitelamb acquired a sufficient knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages, to enter Lincoln College, Oxford, where he was principally maintained by the Epworth Rector, and had Wesley for his tutor.

Samuel Wesley was a large-hearted man, to whom it was always a happiness to have the power of showing kindness to a fellow-creature. His own early life had been an almost friendless one. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, he had to pursue it “under difficulties.” Bitter experience had taught him the preciousness of a friend’s assistance. These facts were quite sufficient to render the poor boy, from the Wroot Charity School, an object of affectionate regard; but there were others beside these. John Whitelamb was the son of one of Samuel Wesley’s peasant parishioners; as an amanuensis, he had rendered the Rector important service for four long years; and, more than that, he had been the means of saving the Rector’s life. In a letter, dated, “Epworth, September 5, 1728,” Samuel Wesley writes:—

“God has given me two fair escapes for life within these few
weeks. The first was when my old nag fell with me, trailed me
in the stirrups by one foot, and trod upon the other, yet never
hurt me.

“The other escape was much greater. On Monday week, at
Burringham Ferry, we were driven down with a fierce stream and
wind, and fell foul against a keel. Two of our horses were
pitched overboard, and the boat was filled with water. I was
just preparing to swim for life” (he was then sixty-six years
of age), “when John Whitelamb’s long legs and arms swarmed up
into the keel, and lugged me in after him. My mare was swimming
a quarter of an hour; but, at last, we all got safe to land.
Help to praise Him who saves both man and beast.”

Remembering all this, it will be felt, that, it was a grateful, as well as generous, act, for Samuel Wesley to send his youthful helper and deliverer to Lincoln College, Oxford.

Whitelamb’s going to Oxford must have taken place soon after Samuel Wesley’s providential deliverance from being drowned; for, five years after this, he had finished his collegiate education, and become the Rector’s curate, and son-in-law.

Whitelamb was a steady student. “John Whitelamb,” wrote Wesley, in 1731,—

“Reads one English, one Latin, and one Greek book alternately;
and never meddles with a new one, in any of the languages, till
he has ended the old one. If he goes on as he has begun, I dare
take upon me to say, that, by the time he has been here four or
five years, there will not be such an one, of his standing, in
Lincoln College, perhaps not in the University of Oxford.”

Like his patrons, however, Whitelamb was very poor; and poverty always implies trials. The young gentlemen of Oxford, as a rule, had ample means, and could dress accordingly; but Whitelamb, without a purse, had to submit to the indignity of wearing a worn-out college gown. Wesley, his tutor, pitied him, and yet had scarcely the ability to help him. Hence the following, to his brother Samuel, under the date of “November 17, 1731:”

“John Whitelamb wants a gown much, and I am not rich enough
to buy him one at present If you are willing that my twenty
shillings (that were) should go toward that, I will add ten
to them, and let it lie till I have tried my interest with my
friends to make up the price of a new one.”

No wonder that Susannah Wesley used to call Whitelamb “poor starveling Johnny.” His position was a proud, and yet a painful one.

In 1733, Whitelamb became Samuel Wesley’s curate, and, soon afterwards, married his daughter Mary. Whitelamb’s wife was eleven years older than himself; and, through affliction in early life, and, probably, some mismanagement in her nurse, was of stunted growth, and considerably deformed; but her face was exquisitely beautiful, and her amiable temper made her the delight and favourite of the whole of the Wesley family. In her elegy, written by her accomplished sister Mehetabel, and published in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1736, are the following lines:—

“From earliest dawn of life, through Thee alone,
The saint sublime, the finished Christian shone;
Yet would not grace one grain of pride allow,
Or cry, ‘Stand off, I’m holier than thou!’
With business or devotion never cloyed,
No moment of thy time passed unemployed,
Nor was thy form unfair, (though Heaven confined
To scanty limits thy exalted mind).”

“Witness the brow, so faultless, open, clear,
That none could ask if honesty was there:
Witness the taintless lustre of thy skin,
Bright emblem of the brighter soul within:
That soul, which, easy, unaffected, mild,
Through jetty eyes, with cheerful sweetness smiled.
But, oh! could fancy reach, or language speak
The living beauties of thy lip and cheek,
Where nature’s pencil, leaving art no room,
Touched to a miracle the vernal bloom,
Lost though thou art in _Stella’s_ faithful line,
Thy face, immortal as thy fame, should shine.”

Such was John Whitelamb’s wife. To provide for the newly-married pair, Samuel Wesley resigned to Whitelamb his rectory at Wroot. The village was sequestered, and the surrounding country, to a great extent, a swamp. The church, also, was extremely unpretending, and its walls composed of boulder stones which, in 1794, were used in paving Epworth streets. Still, there was a field for usefulness, and a benefice, which _now_ is worth about £260 a year. Samuel Wesley’s letter to the Lord Chancellor is so characteristic of both himself and his son-in-law, that its insertion is not irrelevant.

“_January 14, 1734._

“MY LORD,—The small rectory of Wroot, in the diocese and county
of Lincoln, is in the gift of the Lord Chancellor, and, more
than seven years since, was conferred on Samuel Wesley, rector
of Epworth. It lies in our low levels, and is often overflowed.
During the time I have had it, the people have lost the fruits
of the earth to that degree, that it has hardly brought me £50
per annum, _omnibus annis_; and, some years, not enough to pay
my curate there his salary of £30 a year.

“This living, by your lordship’s permission and favour, I
would gladly resign to one Mr. John Whitelamb, born in the
neighbourhood of Wroot, where his father and grandfather lived;
when I took him from among the scholars of a charity school
(founded by one Mr. Travers, an attorney), brought him to my
house, and educated him there, where he was my amanuensis for
four years, in transcribing my ‘Dissertations on the Book of
Job,’ now well advanced in the press; and was employed in
drawing my maps and figures for it, as well as we could by
the light of nature. After this, I sent him to Oxford, to my
son John, Fellow of Lincoln College; under whom he made such
proficiency, that he was, the last summer, admitted, by the
Bishop of Oxford, into deacon’s orders, and became my curate at
Epworth, while I came up to town to expedite the printing of my
book.

“Since then, I gave my consent to his marrying one of my seven
daughters, and they are married accordingly; and, though I
can spare little more with her, yet I would gladly give them
a little glebe land at Wroot, where, I am sure, they will not
want springs of water. But _they_ love the place, though I can
get nobody else to reside on it.

“If I do not flatter myself, he is indeed a valuable person,
of uncommon brightness, learning, piety, and indefatigable
industry; always loyal to the king, zealous for the Church,
and friendly to our dissenting brethren. For the truth of this
character I will be answerable to God and man.

“If, therefore, your lordship will grant me the favour to let
me resign my living unto him, and please to confer it on him,
I shall always remain, your lordship’s most bounden, most
grateful, and most obedient servant,

“SAMUEL WESLEY.”

His lordship complied with this request, and, in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for the ensuing month, February, 1734, in the list of ecclesiastical preferments, was the following:—“Mr. Whitelamb to the rectory of Wroot, Lincolnshire.”

Immediately after, Whitelamb and his wife removed to Wroot, and took “true pains among the people.” Their parsonage is thus described by Samuel Wesley, junior:—

“The house is good, and strong, and clean,
Though there no battlements are seen,
But humble roof of thatch, I ween,
Low rooms from rain to cover.
Where, safe from poverty, (sore ill!)
All may live happy if they will,
As any that St. James’s fill,
The Escurial, or the Louvre.”

Their parishioners were sketched by Mehetabel Wesley, in the lines following:—

“High births and virtue equally they scorn,
As asses dull, on dunghills born;
Impervious as the stones, their heads are found,
Their rage and hatred, steadfast as the ground.”

The pictures are not attractive; but, despite their thatched residence, and the boorishness of the people among whom they lived, Whitelamb and his wife were happy. Their union, however, was of brief duration. Within one short year of her marriage, the grave received all that was mortal of Mrs. Whitelamb and her infant child. She died in childbirth, at the end of October, 1734.

This was a terrible stroke to the young husband. For a season, he was inconsolable, and, to divert him from his trouble, his father-in-law brought him to the Epworth Rectory. This was just about the time when Oglethorpe returned from Georgia, whither he had gone with his first company of motley emigrants. Samuel Wesley, now within six months of his decease, took an intense interest in the Georgian colony, and declared that, if he had been ten years younger, he would gladly have devoted the remainder of his life and labours to the emigrants, and in acquiring the language of the Indians among whom they had to live. Among others who had gone to Georgia with Oglethorpe, and had returned with him, was John Lyndal, one of Samuel Wesley’s parishioners, of whom the venerable Rector earnestly inquired whether the ministers who had migrated to the infant colony understood the Indian language, and could preach without interpreters. All this tended to turn poor Whitelamb’s thoughts to Georgia; and, five weeks after Mrs. Whitelamb’s death, the Rector of Epworth wrote to General Oglethorpe as follows:—

“EPWORTH, _December 7, 1734_.

“DEAR SIR,—I cannot express how much I am obliged by your last
kind and instructive letter concerning the affairs of Georgia.
I could not read it without sighing, when I reflected on my
own age and infirmities, which made such an expedition utterly
impracticable for me. Yet, my mind worked hard about it; and it
is not impossible but Providence may have directed me to such
an expedient as may prove more serviceable to your colony than
I should ever have been.”

Samuel Wesley then proceeds to give an account of the life of Whitelamb, and continues:—

“I consented to his marrying one of my daughters, there having
been a long and intimate friendship between them. But neither
he nor I were so happy as to have them live long together; for
she died in childbed of her first child. He was so inconsolable
at her loss, that I was afraid he would soon have followed her;
to prevent which, I desired his company here at my own house,
that he might have some amusement and business, by assisting me
in my cure during my illness.

“It was then, sir, I received the favour of yours, and let him
see it for diversion; more especially, because John Lyndal and
he had been fellow-parishioners and schoolfellows at Wroot,
and had no little kindness one for the other. I made no great
reflection on the thing at first; but, soon after, I found he
had thought often upon it; was very desirous to go to Georgia
himself; and wrote the enclosed letter to me on the subject. As
I knew not of any person more proper for such an undertaking,
I thought the least I could do was to send the letter to your
honour, who would be so very proper a judge of the affair; and,
if you approve, I shall not be wanting in my addresses to my
Lord Bishop of London, or any other, to forward the matter as
far as possible.

“As for his character, I shall take it upon myself to say, he
is a good scholar, a sound Christian, and a good liver. He has
a very happy memory, especially for languages, and a judgment
and intelligence not inferior. My eldest son, at Tiverton, has
some knowledge of him; my two others, his tutor at Lincoln,
and my third, of Christ Church, have been long and intimately
acquainted with him; and, I doubt not, they will give him, at
least, as just a character as I have done.

“And here I shall drop the matter till I have the honour of
hearing again from you, ever remaining your honour’s most
sincere and most obliged friend and servant,

“SAMUEL WESLEY.”

Samuel Wesley died within five months after the date of this application to Oglethorpe; his son-in-law, John Whitelamb, for some unknown reason, did not go to Georgia; but his sons John and Charles set sail for the recently founded colony on October 14, 1735.

Did Whitelamb miss the way of Providence in not becoming a Georgian missionary? Perhaps he did. At all events, the remaining thirty-four years of his life seem to have been of comparatively small importance to his fellow-men. While the two Wesleys, his brothers-in-law, and Whitefield, were preaching everywhere, and, with Christian heroism, were braving the most infernal and brutish persecutions; while Clayton, in Manchester, was living the active life of a Church of England Ritualist, and Ingham, in Yorkshire, was performing the part of a useful evangelist; while Gambold was restraining Moravian follies, and Broughton was doing his utmost to disperse Bibles, and religious books and tracts;—poor, bereaved Whitelamb seems to have sunk down into a disconsolate and nearly useless widowerhood, and to have spent,—_wasted_, we had almost said,—his dreary life among the unappreciative dolts, so graphically described by his deceased wife’s sister—Mehetabel. It is true, he had the care of about three hundred souls; but, with his natural ability and collegiate education, he might, in addition to fulfilling his parochial duties, have rendered other service to the Church of Christ, and to mankind at large. At all events, his venerable patron did not sleep away his probationary being as his son-in-law, John Whitelamb, did.

It is a significant fact, that, though Whitelamb lived at Wroot nearly forty years after Wesley began his itinerant career, and though the visits of the latter, to Epworth and the neighbourhood, were numerous, he never, excepting once, and that during his first evangelistic tour to the north of England, came to Wroot. He writes:—

“1742, Sunday, June 13. At seven I preached at Haxey, on, ‘What
must I do to be saved?’ Thence I went to Wroot, of which, as
well as Epworth, my father was rector for several years. Mr.
Whitelamb offering me the church, I preached, in the morning,
on, ‘Ask, and it shall be given you;’ in the afternoon, on
the difference between the righteousness of the law and the
righteousness of faith. But the church could not contain the
people, many of whom came from far; and, I trust, not in vain.
At six, I preached in Epworth churchyard to a vast multitude
gathered together from all parts, on the beginning of our
Lord’s Sermon on the Mount. I continued among them for near
three hours, and yet we scarce knew how to part.”

It ought to be said, that, Wesley had been at Epworth and in the neighbourhood for the last eight days. He had preached from his father’s tombstone, from, “The kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost;” and again, from, “By grace are ye saved through faith;” and a third time from, “Unto him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted to him for righteousness;” and a fourth, either from the tombstone or in the street, on Friday, the 11th of June, on, “Ezekiel’s vision of the resurrection of the dry bones;” and a fifth, on the day before he went to Wroot, from the same subject as he took at the afternoon service in Whitelamb’s church. His visit had occasioned immense excitement. During the sermon, on Friday, “lamentation and great mourning were heard; God bowing the hearts of the people, so that, on every side, as with one accord, they lifted up their voice and wept aloud;” and, on Saturday, he writes:—

“While I was speaking several dropped down as dead; and such
a cry was heard of sinners groaning for the righteousness of
faith as almost drowned my voice. But many of these soon lifted
up their heads with joy, and broke out into thanksgiving,
being assured that they now had the desire of their soul—the
forgiveness of their sins.”

Whitelamb was present at one, at least, of these Epworth services; and, like others, was deeply impressed with the preacher’s doctrines; but, strangely enough, seems not to have spoken to him. Two days afterwards, however, he wrote to Wesley, and this, probably, occasioned the visit to Wroot just mentioned. His letter was as follows:—

“_June 11, 1742._

“DEAR BROTHER,—I saw you at Epworth, on Tuesday evening.
Fain would I have spoken to you, but that I am quite at a
loss how to address or behave. Your way of thinking is so
extraordinary,[286] that, your presence creates an awe, as if
you were an inhabitant of another world. God grant you and your
followers may always have entire liberty of conscience! Will
you not allow others the same? Indeed, I cannot think as you
do, any more than I can help honouring and loving you.

“Dear sir, will you credit me? I retain the highest veneration
for you. The sight of you moves me strangely. My heart
overflows with gratitude. I feel, in a higher degree, all that
tenderness and yearning of bowels with which I am affected
towards every branch of Mr. Wesley’s family. I cannot refrain
from tears when I reflect, ‘This is the man, who, at Oxford,
was more than a father to me. This is he whom I have there
heard expound, or dispute publicly, or preach at St. Mary’s,
with such applause. And Oh that I should ever add, whom I have
lately heard preach at Epworth!’[287]

“I am quite forgot. None of the family ever honours me with
line! Have I been ungrateful? I appeal to sister Patty; I
appeal to Mr. Ellison,[288] whether I have or no. I have
been passionate, fickle, a fool, but I hope I shall never be
_ungrateful_.

“Dear sir, is it in my power to serve or oblige you in any way?
Glad I should be, that, you would make use of me. God open all
our eyes, and lead us into truth, whatever it be.

“JOHN WHITELAMB.”[289]

This is a curious letter. It is evident, that, there was, at least, a partial estrangement between Whitelamb and the Wesley family. Correspondence had ceased; and, even when Wesley visited Epworth, and Whitelamb was one of his hearers, they parted without speaking. Why was this? Whitelamb did not believe in Wesley’s doctrines; but that is hardly sufficient to account for such a fact. Perhaps the reason may be found in Whitelamb’s own confession, that, he had “been passionate, fickle, and a fool,” though it is impossible to tell to what such words referred. In the melancholy state of mind in which he obviously was, the epithets might be a severer condemnation of himself than his spirit and behaviour had merited. Be that as it may, though Whitelamb lived for twenty-seven years after this, and though, with undeniable sincerity, he professes great gratitude for the past kindness of the Wesley family, and ardent and affectionate admiration of Wesley himself, this was the winding up of their friendly intercourse. Wesley says, with what correctness we know not, that, at “this time, and for some years afterwards,” Whitelamb “did not believe the Christian Revelation;” but whether Wesley meant, that, Whitelamb was a disbeliever in the Bible as a whole, or only in those doctrines of the Bible which Wesley and his friends were daily preaching, it is impossible to say. If he meant the former, we incline to think there must have been some mistake; for, unless Whitelamb were the most arrant knave, he must, in such a case, have relinquished his high office of the Christian ministry. If Wesley meant the latter, his words are too strong, and it was an injustice to Whitelamb’s character and memory to insert them in the _Arminian Magazine_.

Wesley’s and Whitelamb’s intercourse, at Wroot, seems to have been friendly and pleasant; but allowing the Arch-Methodist to preach in the humble pulpit of the little church gave great offence, and perhaps this was _one_ of the reasons why Wesley ceased to visit him. The following letter, written within three months after Wesley’s visit, is full of interest, and furnishes additional evidence, that, the young widower had been guilty of serious follies, and, as a consequence, had been eschewed by the Wesley family. It was addressed to Wesley’s brother Charles.

WROOT, _September 2, 1742_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—I must make bold to give you that title. I was
informed, that, you have entertained so hard an opinion of
me as scarcely to hear me named with patience. This made me
fear, the sight of me would not be agreeable. However, I have
ventured to write, lest I should confirm that opinion by a
behaviour that seems to show neglect and ingratitude.

“It is probably not in my power to alter your sentiments of
me; but there is a day, which you and I expect, when it will
appear, that, J. Whitelamb was never either ungrateful, or
vicious; though, by the heat of youthful blood, and the want of
experience of the world, he has been betrayed into very great
follies.

“I had the happiness and honour (for I account it both) of
seeing and conversing with my brother John, when he was last
over. He behaved to me truly like himself. I found in him,
what I have always experienced heretofore, the gentleman, the
friend, the brother, the Christian.

“Dear sir, command me in anything, whereby I can show my regard
to you, or the family; provided conscience be not concerned.
Alas! that I should be forced to distinguish Mr. Wesley,
from the preacher! My brother John demanded[290] my pulpit.
By the authority of a tutor, and one to whom I have so great
obligations, he has the disposal of whatever is mine. However,
I find, by the outcry it caused, that it gives very great
offence. I know not what measures may be taken against me, this
triennial visitation; nor am I so solicitous about it, as I
am uneasy that the interest of religion and the public peace
should, in the least, suffer by my means.

“For, to be frank, I cannot but look upon your doctrines as of
ill consequence. Consequence, I say; for, take them nakedly
in themselves, and nothing seems more innocent, nay, good
and holy. Suppose we grant, that, in you and the rest of the
leaders, who are men of sense and discernment, what is called
the seal and testimony of the Spirit, is something real; yet,
I have great reason to think, that, in the generality of your
followers, it is merely the effect of a heated fancy.

“So much for dispute; and I beg you will forgive me it. Oh
that we could so have met, as that there should have been no
contention, but in loving one another!

“I promised my tutor to write to him. Since then, I have had a
dangerous illness. I am scarce well recovered; and, besides, it
has left behind such a drowsy disposition, as I have not yet
had resolution to conquer. I hope to fulfil my promise shortly.
I have endeavoured to lay myself quite open to truth; and this
(with shame I ought to say it) has cost me some pains. My dear
mother Wesley, and poor sister Kezzy are gone.[291] God of the
spirits of all flesh, grant us all to meet in a happy eternity!

“Dear brother, are you in earnest in what you teach? I cannot
persuade any of my friends that you are. If you be, give me
your prayers. If not, do not, as you have formerly done,
ridicule me for being too religious. You little thought, when
you laughed at me, for being shocked at your gay discourse,
that you yourself should come to maintain the very notions
which I had then.

“I am, your obliged and most affectionate brother,

“JOHN WHITELAMB.”[292]

The last sentence of this letter is significant. John Whitelamb was religious before Charles Wesley was. When Charles was elected to Christ Church, in 1726, he was a sprightly, rollicking young man, with more genius than grace. In 1728, or 1729, “he began to attend the weekly sacrament, and induced two or three other students to attend with him;” and this was really the beginning of the Methodist movement. It is a curious fact, that, this was the very time when Whitelamb went to Oxford. Was John Whitelamb, a young man of twenty-one, fresh from the religious atmosphere of the Epworth rectory, the means of reforming the sprightly Charles Wesley; and, in that indirect way, the means of Methodism being started? The question has never before been put; and it is one which, perhaps, cannot, with certainty, be answered.

Of the last twenty-seven years of Whitelamb’s life we know nothing. More than a quarter of a century ago, an aged female, at Wroot, had a distinct recollection of him, and described him “as a person of retiring habits, and fond of solitude.” She was present when he was suddenly seized, while on his way to perform divine service at the church, with the illness which shortly terminated in his death; and spoke of his funeral as having been attended by a considerable number of clergymen, who thus paid their last tribute of respect to a departed friend.[293]

Whitelamb died in the month of July, 1769; and, three months afterwards, Wesley wrote to Mrs. Woodhouse, of Epworth, as follows:—

“1769, October 4. How long is it since Mr. Whitelamb died? What
disease did he die of? Did he lie ill for any time? Do you know
any circumstances preceding or attending his death? Oh, why did
he not die forty years ago, while he knew in whom he believed?
Unsearchable are the counsels of God, and His ways past finding
out.

“JOHN WESLEY.”[294]

Wesley evidently knew nothing of the circumstances of Whitelamb’s death; and his contrast in reference to the religious state of the deceased rector of Wroot “forty years ago” appears to be hardly generous. “Forty years ago” Methodism was just beginning; and it was not until nine years afterwards, that, Wesley himself attained the knowledge of being saved, not by good works, but, by faith in Christ.

In Wroot churchyard, a small stone, about two feet long and one foot broad, bears the following inscription:—