Steer Steady
"And so your father says that you are going to Oxford?" He frowned at the thin youth, who was no bigger than a boy of fourteen. "You are too young to go to the University. You cannot possibly know Greek and Latin yet. Go back to school!"
John answered politely, "Good day, sir," but he looked up at the pompous doctor as David looked at Goliath, and despised him.
As he walked quietly back to Charterhouse, to pack his few threadbare belongings, John thought, "If I do not know Greek and Latin better than you, I ought to go back to school indeed. And nothing on earth could make me go to see you again."
STEER STEADY
Oxford University was the center of student life for all England. The ancient stone buildings on the River Cherwell were a gathering place for the sons of the wealthy. Many of them came to play and not to study. But there were others who wanted to learn Latin, Greek, and Philosophy. Some were serious young men who were sons of clergymen and who came with scholarships. John Wesley was one of these.
He arrived with a few well-worn clothes, dark and of a simple cut, and an allowance of forty pounds a year as a former Charterhouse scholar. He brought with him also a love for languages, and for learning, and a friendly spirit. John Wesley was only five feet, four inches tall. He was so thin and small that at first few noticed him. But it was not long until other students came to know and
like him for his wit, his poetic gifts in writing, and for his steady, clear mind.
But John was often troubled, for he had so little money that he was sometimes in debt for books or other necessities. His father could not help him much.
Once John wrote jokingly to his mother that the town was filled with thieves and cutpurses, so that it was not safe to be in the streets. "A gentleman whom I know was standing at the door of a coffeehouse about seven last evening. When he turned around, his cap and wig were snatched off his head, and though he followed the thief to a considerable distance he was unable to recover them. I am pretty safe from such bandits, for unless they carried me away, carcass and all, they would have but a poor purchase."
At Oxford John was frequently tired. He was used to long hours of work, and little food. Yet now he felt weary and was worried by a cough that would not leave him. As he climbed the stairs to his room in Christ Church College each day, he felt that he did not have the physical strength to do all that he wanted to
do. And then he found a book on a bookstall. It was Dr. Cheyne's Book of Health and Long Life.
John bought this book and set about studying it. He knew that many men died of tuberculosis at an early age, and that he was likely to go that way himself if his health did not improve.
So now he determined to follow this book. He would eat sparingly and drink nothing but water. This should be easy, since he had little money for food and drink anyway. But he would also spend much time out of doors. He would walk in the open air in every spare moment. And he would swim in the river on every warm day.
When John had been at Oxford several years, Charles arrived from Westminster School to enroll as a student. The brothers did not care for rowdy friends, and both were seriously interested in religion and study. Before long the Wesley brothers had collected about them a few others. They held meetings to try to improve their minds by study and discussion.
About that time John decided what his life was to be. He had long thought of it, and for some time had considered becoming a teacher. But now he made up his mind to become a minister.
So he was ordained as a minister of the Church of England, and preached his first sermon at South Lye. But he did not think that his study was ended. John wanted to get a fellowship at Lincoln
College, Oxford. A fellowship would pay him for teaching while he continued his studies. He asked his father to help him with any advice or by an appeal to any friend who might put in a word for him. John knew that there were some at the University who did not want him to get the fellowship, for they thought him too serious and too critical of the ways of others.
Old Samuel Wesley, who was again in debt, managed somehow to send John what he needed, and to help by writing to friends. And John received the fellowship. But he determined to do everything possible to save money. He even let his hair grow long so that he would not have to spend anything at the barber's.
John still wrote poetry at Lincoln College, and Charles also was known for his poetry. John was getting a reputation as well for his great skill in answering questions on religion and scholarly subjects. He was growing more and more determined to help people. To do this he must have more time. How could he have more? He was a believer in leading a methodical life. Already he regulated his time carefully. Now he decided to account for every minute. And he said to Charles, "Leisure and I have taken leave of one another, and I propose to be busy as long as I live."
Every duty had a time, and he was on time for every duty.
John never took a vacation from this rule. He worked out a system of early rising. Each morning he got up an hour earlier until he found the exact amount of sleep that was necessary for him. And from then on he never had more. He trained himself to sleep on
a hard bed. He rose at four each day, in the darkness, well before dawn. The extra hour or two before his duties began he used for writing in his diaries and journals, which he kept continuously.
John Wesley was a man who trained his mind well. But he was also a man of action. He wanted to practice all that he preached. Even though still a student he wanted more and more to help others. How could he do this? He could deny himself every luxury, so that he could give small sums of money to aid the poor. But that was not enough. All about him were dirt and poverty and ignorance. People high and low cared nothing for goodness and mercy and spiritual growth. How the rich drank brandy and gambled and took part in cruel sports! How the poor drank gin and fought and robbed! Little children were forced to work at five years old and were taught nothing. John Wesley saw these things and felt that he must find a better way to help people.
Perhaps he could help his father? Not long before, John had
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received a letter from the Reverend Samuel Wesley asking him to come home to Epworth and be his assistant. John did not want to leave Oxford. He liked to teach Greek and to go out of a Sunday to preach in towns and villages nearby. But his father, now grown old, was having a hard time. He had to preach in the village of Wroote, about five miles from Epworth, as well as in Epworth. Wroote was a savage and wild place. It was so hard to get to, across streams and bogs, that folk called it "Wroote-out-ofEngland." Not long since, the old minister had nearly lost his life when his boat had sunk in a bog near there. There were many such remote villages in England, where people had never even seen a cart. They carried their few goods on their backs. And they walked through bogs on long wooden stilts.
So John got a two-year leave of absence from Oxford and went to live in the village of Wroote. These years were not pleasant for him. He missed the friendship of other young students at Oxford, and he found no chance to help these people. They resented him, and would not change their wild ways.
John could not see that he was helping the country people, so when his two years were over he was glad to return to Oxford.
There he found that Charles had gotten together the few serious men who were interested in religion. They had formed a study group which other students scornfully called the Holy Club. They wanted to worship as well as study together. John joined them at once, and before long became their leader. He taught them his methodical ways of study and work, and so they came to be called
"Methodists." This was a joke to those gay young students who laughed at serious ideas. But it was not a joke to the Methodists.
There was a young man in their group named Morgan. He coughed a great deal, and his hands were so white and thin that one could almost see through them. Morgan thought much of the prisoners in the castle jail, and wanted to do something to relieve their misery. Here was something that John, too, could do. It was something that the members of the Holy Club all could do. On his father's advice John asked permission of the bishop's chaplain.
Having received it, John organized trips to the prison.
"Going to prison?" jeered the young dandies.
One of them placed his jaunty hands behind him and stalked along, imitating the members of the Holy Club. "See the Methodists! Going to see their friends, the jailbirds!"
But the members of the Holy Club said nothing. They went to the prison. As they came near, their eyes caught the dark frown of the high walls. And their noses stiffened at the foul smells.
High above them in the air wheeled glistening wings of birds, free to move where they willed. The footsteps of the young men echoed on the damp stone steps behind the jailer. At first the
prisoners greeted them with oaths and cries and groans.
As the five young men walked among the prisoners, lying in the straw, the ragged men and women fell silent. They stared at the visitors with surprise. Why had they come here? Why would anyone come down here from the sweet fresh air? Prisons were crowded with criminals, the insane, and men who could not pay their debts, all thrown in together.
The Holy Club could not do much. But the sympathy of the young men for the prisoners was something new and wonderful to the unfortunates.
The Oxford students seemed to enjoy making fun of the Holy Club. When John wrote his father of this, Mr. Wesley replied: "I question whether a mortal can arrive to a greater degree of perfection than steadily to do good, and for that very reason patiently and meekly to suffer evil. Bear no more sail than is necessary, but steer steady."
John did not forget that. He tried to "steer steady." He and his brother Charles were saddened when their friend Morgan, who had gone home to Ireland, died of tuberculosis. But they continued to try to help the prisoners.
John and Charles tried to interest more students in joining the Holy Club, but without much success. They slowly made a few more friends for the Club, and these friends gave money to their charity fund. The money was used to buy medicines for the sick, to pay small debts to release prisoners, and to buy books.
John cut down all of his expenses to a bare living, in order to add to these funds. And when he could save no more, he took his few pictures from his walls and sold them.