not that you should; but this one thing we may reasonably desire of you -do not increase the difficulties, which are already so great, that, without the mighty power of God, we must sink under them. Do not assist in trampling down a little handful of men who, for the present, stand in the gap between ten thousand poor wretches and destruction, till you find some others to take their places." The wholesome prosecution of a few rioters, in different places, put an end to enormities which would never have been committed if the local magistrates had attempted to prevent them. The offenders were not rigorously pursued; they generally submitted before the trial, and it sufficed to make them understand that the peace might not be broken with impunity. "Such a mercy is it," says Wesley, "to execute the penalty of the law on those who will not regard its precepts! So many inconveniences to the innocent does it prevent, and so much sin in the guilty!" CHAPTER XV. SCENES OF ITINERANCY. WHEN Wesley began his course of itinerancy there were few turnpikes1 in England, and no stage-coaches which went farther north than York. In many parts of the northern counties neither coach nor chaise had ever been seen. He travelled on horseback, always with one of his preachers in company; and, that no time might be lost, he generally read as he rode. Some of his journeys were exceedingly dangerous,-through the fens of his native country, when the waters were out, and over the fells of Northumberland, when they were covered with snow. Speaking of one, the worst of such expeditions, which lasted two days in tremendous weather, he says, "Many a rough journey have I had before, but one 1 Wesley probably paid more for turnpikes than any other man in England, for no other person travelled so much; and it rarely happened to him to go twice through the same gate in one day. Thus he felt the impost heavily, and, being a horseman, was not equally sensible of the benefit derived from it. This may account for his joining in what was at one time the popular cry. Writing in 1770, he says, "I was agreeably surprised to find the whole road from Thirsk to Stokesley, which used to be extremely bad, better than most turnpikes. The gentlemen had exerted themselves, and raised money enough to mend it effectually. So they have done for several hundred miles in Scotland, and throughout all Connaught, in Ireland. And so undoubtedly they might do throughout all England, without saddling the poor people with the vile imposition of turnpikes for ever."-[The first Turnpike Act was passed in 1653; but the system of turnpike roads was not generally adopted till a century later. See Penny Cyclopædia,' art. Roads.-ED.] like this I never had, between wind, and hail, and rain, and ice, and snow, and driving sleet, and piercing cold. But it is past. Those days will return no more, and are therefore as though they had never been. "Pain, disappointment, sickness, strife, And pain, like pleasure, is a dream." For such excursions and bodily inconveniences he was overpaid by the stir which his presence everywhere excited, the power which he exercised, the effect which he produced, the delight with which he was received by his disciples, and, above all, by the approbation of his own heart, the certainty that he was employed in doing good to his fellowcreatures, and the full persuasion that the Spirit of God was with him in his work. At the commencement of his errantry he had sometimes to bear with an indifference and insensibility in his friends, which was more likely than any opposition to have abated his ardour. He and John Nelson rode from common to common, in Cornwall, preaching to a people who heard willingly, but seldom or never proffered them the slightest act of hospitality. Returning one day in autumn from one of these hungry excursions, Wesley stopped his horse at some brambles, to pick the fruit. "Brother Nelson," said he, "we ought to be thankful that there are plenty of blackberries, for this is the best country I ever saw for getting a stomach,1 but the worst I ever saw for getting food. Do the people think we can live by preaching?" They were detained sometime at St. Ives, because of the illness of one of their companions; and their 1 He meant an appetite.-[ED.] 2 Wesley has himself remarked the mhospitality of his Cornish disciples, upon an after-visit in 1748, but he has left a blank for the name of the place. "About four," he says, "I came to -; examined the leaders of the classes for two hours: preached to the largest congregation I had seen in Cornwall: met the society, and earnestly charged them to beware of covetousness. All this time I was not asked to eat or drink. After the Society, some bread and cheese were set before me. I think, verily, will not be ruined by entertaining me once a year." A little society in Lincolnshire, at this time, were charitable even to an excess. "I have not seen such another in all England," says Wesley. "In the class paper, which gives an account of the contribution for the poor, I observed one gave eightpence, often tenpence, a week; another thirteen, fifteen, or eighteen pence; another sometimes one, sometimes two shillings. I asked Micah Elmoor, the leader (an Israelite indeed, who now rests from his labour), how is this? are you the richest society in England? He answered, I suppose not; but all of us who are single persons have agreed together to give both ourselves and all we have to God; and we do it gladly! whereby we are able, from time to time, to entertain all the strangers that come to Tetney, who often have no food to eat, nor any friend to give them a lodging." 3 In his last Journal, Wesley notices the meeting-house of the Methodists at lodging was little better than their fare. "All that time," says John, “Mr. Wesley and I lay on the floor: he had my greatcoat for his pillow, and I had Burkitt's Notes on the New Testament for mine. After being here near three weeks, one morning, about three o'clock, Mr. Wesley turned over, and finding me awake, clapped me on the side, saying, 'Brother Nelson, let us be of good cheer; I have one whole side yet, for the skin is off but on one side."" It was also at the beginning of his career that he had to complain of inhospitality and indifference. As he became notorious to the world, and known among his own people, it was then considered a blessing and an honour to receive so distinguished a guest and so delightful a companion; a man who, in rank and acquirements, was superior to those by whom he was generally entertained; whose manners were almost irresistibly winning, and whose cheerfulness was like a perpetual sunshine. He had established for himself a dominion in the hearts of his followers,-in that sphere he moved as in a kingdom of his own; and, wherever he went, received the homage of gratitude, implicit confidence, and reverential affection. Few men have ever seen so many affecting instances of the immediate good whereof they were the instruments. A man nearly fourscore years of age, and notorious in his neighbourhood for cursing, swearing, and drunkenness, was one day among his chance hearers, and one of the company, perhaps with a feeling like that of the Pharisee in the parable, was offended at his presence. But, when Wesley had concluded his discourse, the old sinner came up to him, and catching him by the hands, said, "Whether thou art a good or a bad man I know not; but I know the words thou speakest are good! I never heard the like in all my life. Oh that God would set them home upon my poor soul!" And then he burst into tears, so that he could speak no more. A Cornish man said to him, "Twelve years ago I was going over Gulvan Downs, and I saw many people together; and I asked what was the matter? They told me, a man going to preach. And I said, to be sure it is some 'mazed man! But when I saw you I said, nay, this is no 'mazed man. And you preached on God's raising the dry bones; and from that time I could never rest till God was pleased to breathe on me, and raise my dead soul!" A woman, overwhelmed with affliction, went out one night with a determination of throwing herself into the New River. As she was passing the Foundry, she heard the people singing: she stopped, and went in; listened, learnt where to look for consolation and support, and was thereby preserved from suicide. Wesley had been disappointed of a room at Grimsby, and when the this place being "unlike any other in England, both as to its form and materials. It is exactly round, and composed wholly of brazen slags, which, I suppose, will last as long as the earth." appointed hour for preaching came, the rain prevented him from preaching at the Cross. In the perplexity which this occasioned, a convenient place was offered him by a woman "which was a sinner." Of this, however, he was ignorant at the time, and the woman listened to him without any apparent emotion. But in the evening he preached eloquently upon the sins and the faith of her who washed our Lord's feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head; and that discourse, by which the whole congregation were affected, touched her to the heart. She followed him to his lodging, crying out, "Oh, sir, what must I do to be saved?" Wesley, who now understood that she had forsaken her husband, and was living in adultery, replied, "Escape for your life! Return instantly to your husband!" She said she knew not how to go; she had just heard from him, and he was at Newcastle, above a hundred miles off. Wesley made answer, that he was going for Newcastle himself the next morning; she might go with him, and his companion should take her behind him. It was late in October: she performed the journey under this protection, and in a state of mind which beseemed her condition. "During our whole journey," he says, "I scarce observed her to smile; nor did she ever complain of anything, or appear moved in the least with those trying circumstances which many times occurred in our way. A steady seriousness, or rather sadness, appeared in her whole behaviour and conversation, as became one that felt the burthen of sin, and was groaning after salvation." "Glory be to the Friend of sinners!" he exclaims, when he relates the story. "He hath plucked one more brand out of the fire! Thou poor sinner, thou hast received a prophet in the name of a prophet, and thou art found of Him that sent him." The husband did not turn away the penitent; and her reformation appeared to be sincere and permanent. After some time the husband left Newcastle, and wrote to her to follow him. "She set out," says Wesley, "in a ship bound for Hull. A storm met them by the way: the ship sprung a leak; but though it was near the shore, on which many persons flocked together, yet the sea ran so exceedingly high that it was impossible to make any help. Mrs. S. was seen standing on the deck as the ship gradually sunk, and afterwards hanging by her hands on the ropes, till the masts likewise disappeared. Even then, for some moments, they could observe her floating upon the waves, till her clothes, which for a time buoyed her up, being thoroughly wet, she at last sunk-I trust, into the ocean of God's mercy!" Wesley once received an invitation from a clergyman in the country, whom he describes as a hoary, reverend, and religious man, whose very sight struck him with an awe. The old man said, that, about nine years ago, his only son had gone to hear Mr. Wesley preach, a youth in the flower of his age, and remarkable for piety, seuse, and learning above U his years. He came home ill of the small-pox; but he praised God for the comfort which he derived from the preaching on that day, rejoiced in a full sense of His love, and triumphed in that assurance over sickness, and pain, and death. The old man added, that from that time he had loved Mr. Wesley, and greatly desired to see him; and he now blessed God that this desire had been fulfilled before he followed his dear son into eternity! One day a post-chaise was sent to carry him from Alnwick to Warkworth, where he had been entreated to preach. "I found in it," says he, "one waiting for me, whom, in the bloom of youth, mere anguish of soul had brought to the gates of death. She told me the troubles which held her in on every side, from which she saw no way to escape. I told her, 'The way lies straight before you: what you want is the love of God. I believe God will give it you shortly. Perhaps it is His good pleasure to make you, a poor bruised reed, the first witness here of that great salvation. Look for it just as you are, unfit, unworthy, unholy,-by simple faith,-every day, every hour.' She did feel the next day something she could not comprehend, and knew not what to call it. In one of the trials, which used to sink her to the earth, she was all calm, all peace and love, enjoying so deep a communication with God as nothing external could interrupt. Ah, thou child of affliction, of sorrow and pain, hath Jesus found out thee also? And He is able to find and bring back thy husband-as far as he is wandered out of the way!"" The profligates whom he reclaimed sometimes returned to their evil ways; and the innocent, in whom he had excited the fever of enthusiasm, were sometimes, when the pulse fell, left in a feebler state of faith than they were found; but it was with the afflicted in body or in mind that the good which he produced was deep and permanent. Of this he had repeated instances, but never a more memorable one than when he visited one of his female disciples, who was ill in bed, and after having buried seven of her family in six months, had just heard that the eighth, her husband, whom she dearly loved, had been cast away at sea. “I asked her,” he says, “do you not fret at any of these things?" She said, with a lovely smile, "Oh, no: how can I fret at anything which is the will of God? Let Him take all beside, He has given me Himself. I love Him: I praise Him every moment!"-"Let any," says Wesley, "that doubts of Christian perfection, look on such a spectacle as this!" If it had not become a point of honour with him to vindicate how he could, and whenever he could, a doctrine which was as obnoxious as it is exceptionable and dangerous, he would not have spoken of Christian perfection here. He would have known that resignation in severe sorrow is an effort of nature as well as of religion, and therefore not to be estimated too highly as a proof of |