the Wednesbury riot.--How he
felt.--The right pocket.--Beautiful hair.--The
prize-fighter a good protector.--A brick, a stone,
and two hard blows.--Daniel vi. 22.

AFTER reading the last exciting chapter, you will all exclaim, "Well,
Mr. Wesley _was_ a brave man!" and I am sure you will like to hear what
he himself said about his adventures. These are the very words he wrote
after the Wednesbury riots:

"From the beginning to the end, I felt as calm as if I had been sitting
in my study at home. Once it did come into my mind, that if they threw
me into the river, it would spoil the papers I had in my pocket. I was
not afraid for myself, for I did not doubt but I could swim across to
the opposite bank.

"Thinking about it all now, I notice some remarkable circumstances. One
was, that though several tried to get hold of me, it seemed as if they
could not, and when at last one did get hold of my coat and tore the
pocket off, it was the right pocket for him to get, for it contained
nothing of importance; whereas if he had torn off the other he would
have got a bank-note with it.

"Another was, a big strong fellow just behind struck at me several times
with a large oak stick. One blow had it hit me would have killed me, but
somehow every time he struck, the blow was turned aside. I don't know
how, for I could not move either to the right hand or to the left.

"Another man came rushing through the crowd and raised his arm to strike
me. Suddenly he let his arm drop, and only stroked my hair, saying:
'What beautiful hair he has!'

"It was strange too, that the very first men whose hearts were softened
were always the leaders of the mob--one of them had been a
prize-fighter. So that when they took my part I was well protected.

"Again, from first to last I heard no one give me a reviling word, or
call me by any insolent or disgraceful name whatever. The cry of one and
all was: 'The Preacher! The Preacher! The Parson! The Minister!'"

Again Mr. Wesley wrote:

"By what gentle and gradual steps does God prepare us for His will! Two
years ago a brick that was thrown at me grazed my shoulders. Then a year
after that, the stone struck me between the eyes when I was preaching in
London. This evening I have received two blows; one man struck me on
the chest with all his might, and another on the mouth with such force
that the blood gushed out immediately. But both were as nothing, I felt
no more