“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.