Samuel Wesley strongly wished his son John to be his successor at Epworth; but John, four months before his father’s death, decisively declined the proposal. He was resolved to remain at Oxford, because he imagined he could be holier at Oxford than he could be anywhere else. The rector died, and then his son changed his mind, and set out on the very mission upon which his father had set his heart, and to be engaged in which he would, if he had been ten years younger, have gladly relinquished Epworth Church. The following letter refers to John Wesley’s final refusal of his father’s proposition. It was written to Samuel Wesley, jun., four months previous to Mr Wesley’s decease:—
“Epworth, Dec. 4, 1734.
“Dear Son,—Having pretty many things to write to you, and those of no small moment; and being for the most part confined to my house by pain and weakness, so that I have not yet ventured to church on a Sunday, I have just now sat down to try if I can reduce my thoughts into any tolerable order. Though I can write but few lines in a day, yet being under my own hand, they may not be the less acceptable to you.
“I shall throw what I have a mind you shall know, under three heads—1. What most immediately concerns our own family. 2. Dick Ellison, the wen of my family, and his poor insects that are sucking me to death. 3. J. Whitelamb;—and, perhaps, in a postscript, a little of my own personal affairs, and of the poor.
“1. Of our family. Your brother John has at last writ me, ‘that it is now his unalterable resolution not to accept of Epworth living, if he could have it;’ and the reason he gives for it in these words:—‘The question is not whether I could do more good to others there or here, but whether I could do more good to myself; seeing wherever I can be most holy myself, there, I am assured, I can most promote holiness in others. But I am equally assured there is no place under heaven so fit for my improvement as Oxford. Therefore,’ &c.
“Thus stands his argument. Though I am no more fond of the gripping and wrangling distemper than I am of Mr Harper’s[[325]] boluses and clysters, (for age would again have rest,) I sat myself down to try if I could unravel his sophisms, and hardly one of his assertions appeared to me to be universally true. I think the main of my answer was, that he seemed to mistake the end of academical studies, which were chiefly preparatory, in order to qualify men to instruct others.
“He thinks there is no place so fit for his improvement as Oxford. As to many sorts of useful knowledge, it may be nearly true; but surely there need be a knowledge, too, of men and things (which has not been thought the most attainable in a cloister) as well as of books, or else we shall find ourselves of much less use in the world.
“But the best and greatest improvement is in solid piety and religion, which (in Oxford) is handy to be got, or promoted, by being hung up in Socrates’ basket. But allowing that austerity and mortification may either be a means of promoting holiness, or, in some degree, a part of it, why may not a man exercise these in his own house as strictly as in any college, in any university in Europe, and, perhaps, with less censure and observation? Neither can I understand the meaning or drift of being thus ever learning, and never coming to a due proficiency in the knowledge and practice of the truth, so as to be able commendably to instruct others in it.
“Thus far I have written with my own hand, both to you and your brother, for many days together; but I am now so heartily tired that I must, contrary to my resolution, get my son Whitelamb to transcribe and finish it. I have done what I could, with such a shattered head and body, to satisfy the scruples which your brother has raised against my proposal, from conscience and duty; but if your way of thinking be the same with mine, especially after you have read and weighed what follows, you will be able to convince him in a much clearer and stronger manner.
“The remaining considerations I offered to him were for the most part such as follow:—I urged, among other things, the great precariousness of my own health, and the sensible decay of my strength, so that he would hardly know me if he saw me now; the deplorable state in which I should leave your mother and the family, and the loss of near forty years’ honest labour in this place, where I could expect no other, but that the field which I have been so long sowing with good seed, and the vineyard, which I have planted with no ignoble vine, must be soon rooted up, and the fences of it broken down,—for I am morally satisfied, if your brothers both slight it, Mr P—— will be my successor.