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:—
“In memory of John Whitelamb, Rector of this Parish thirty-five years. Buried 29th of July, 1769, aged 62 years. Worthy of imitation. This at the cost of Francis Wood, Esq., 1772.”