done;' and having thus discharged, as he thought, his duty, he gratified his taste by leaving the Methodists and the town in the undisturbed possession of the rabble.

In Falmouth, John Wesley was assailed even in the house where he was residing.

In Devizes, Charles Wesley was attacked by a mob, instigated by the curate, and plied with drink by two leading Dissenters; they worked the engine on the house, smashed the windows, and were hardly prevented from untiling the roof.

At St. Ives, the usual accompaniment which greeted the Methodists was yells, stones, and mud. At Leeds, the same. In many places worship was impossible; in others, the scattered Methodists returned from their meetings, bruised and bleeding, as from a field of battle.†

But whatever was the extent of violence and danger, Wesley bore it with tranquil composure. In this respect, his brother rivalled him, and no less their lay coadjutors. Charles Wesley, when attacked at Devizes, calmly considered in what position it was proper that he should be found, when the mob should force an entrance into his room. John Nelson, in the prison at Bradford, lying on stinking straw, among filth from the shambles, sang hymns in response to songs of praise from his friends without, and replied to the courageous words of his wife, with a voice of resolute composure; nor did the threats of military punishment, or the fury

* Journal i. 433; ii. 7.

+ Ibid. i. 446.

of worthless officers move him from his serenity. In these points John Wesley set his followers an illustrious example. There was no bravado in his dealings with mobs, but the calmness of an undaunted mind. He never exposed his followers to treatment which he was not ready himself to bear. Wind, hail, rain, snow, and driving sleet he bore, in his journeys, with stoical composure. He often preached to audiences who, if they did not injure him, gave him no hospitality; he was often glad to stop his horse near a bramble-bush in order to fill his stomach with the fruit. "Brother Nelson," said he, "we ought to be thankful that there are plenty of black-berries, for this is the best country that I ever saw for getting a stomach, but the worst for getting food." At St. Ives he had no bed, but lay on the floor, with a great-coat for his pillow, his friend having Burkitt's Notes on the New Testament for his head. "After being there near three weeks, one morning about three o'clock," says Nelson, "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 one side.' ”

The same equanimity accompanied him when he had to confront violence.

When he heard of the attack on his followers at Wednesbury, he went there to take his share of the danger. Before he arrived, the mob had been, for four months, the undisputed masters of the streets,

doing with the unhappy Methodists what they liked. Wesley began by preaching at mid-day in the middle of the town; and the mob, daunted by his courage, suffered him to preach undisturbed. But, in the evening, the house where he lodged was beset. Wesley had the ringleaders of the mob admitted into the room, addressed them, subdued them, and went out with them into the crowd. He got on a chair, and asked the rabble what they wanted. They wanted him to go to the Justice of the Peace; he consented, but the magistrate had good sense, and bade them go home. Then some one suggested a magistrate at Walsal, and thither they went, but there too the magistrate would not see them. As they were returning, and acting as an escort to the man whom they had wished to destroy, a furious mob poured out of Walsal, and, though his new friends fought gallantly in his defence, Wesley was soon alone in the midst of a rabble, "whose noise" as he says, "was like the roaring of the sea." Down the road to the town, a steep descent, he was dragged, several of the miscreants trying to trip him up. Clothes torn, covered with blows, bleeding in the mouth from the stroke of a stone, he was hauled into the main street, where none dared to receive and shelter him. He never lost his presence of mind, but watched for a moment when they were exhausted by fury, and he then demanded to be heard. His courage, composure, and then his words, had an effect. He followed his ad

dress with a prayer, and such was the influence of his demeanour that the ring-leader, a prize-fighter, declared, "Sir, I will spend my life for you: " under this strange escort, Wesley passed from the crowd, strangely preserved.

In Falmouth, when a furious rabble broke open the door and rushed into the house, he stepped forward, and said, "Here I am, which of you has anything to say to me ? To which of you have I done any wrong? To you, or you, or you?"* Singling out the ringleaders, he walked bare-headed into the street, that all might see his face; and then, raising his voice, he said, "Neighbours, countrymen, do you desire me to speak?" On their crying,' Yes, yes, he shall speak, no one shall hinder him," he addressed them, though his words were heard only by a few; but the ringleaders, struck and touched by his courage, declared that no one should lay a hand on him, and they interfered in his defence.

At Gwenap while preaching in the street, a magistrate rode furiously into the middle of the audience, ordered his servants to disperse them, and, springing off his horse, took hold of Wesley's cassock. In a transport of rage, he dragged Wesley along, crying, “I take you to serve His Majesty," so they walked arm in arm, a curious pair, for about three quarters of a mile. As the magistrate, abusing the Methodists, ran himself

* Journal i. 475, 477.

out of breath, Wesley quietly remarked, that their misconduct would hardly justify him in seizing and carrying off a clergyman; and the man, subdued and ashamed, mounted Wesley on his own horse, and conducted him back to the town.

At Penryn, which he reached by boat, a furious mob awaited his landing. He stepped out of the boat, looked the fiercest of them in the face, and, wishing them a good night, passed on. The same evening, as he approached Tolcarn, he was met by a few, who ran on to warn him not to go up the hill, as the rabble and the constables were waiting to seize him. He rode up, however, and, observing four or five men well dressed, he went straight to them and said, "Gentlemen, has any of you any thing to say to me? I am John Wesley." As he returned from preaching in the evening, a furious mob gathered round his door, and hemmed him in. "I rejoiced," he observes,* "and blessed God, knowing this was the time I had long been looking for, "and immediately spoke to them that were next me, of right

eousness and judgment to come. At first not many heard, the noise round about us being exceeding great. But the silence spread further, till I had a great attentive congregation, and when I left them they all evinced much love, and dismissed me with many blessings." In Plymouth a mob with drums and soldiers came to disturb him in his sermons. "After waiting a

*Journal i. 270.