th's Coffee House in the City and discussing the
_Athenian Gazette_ with his fellow-contributors, when an officer of
the Guards, in a box at the far end of the room, kept interrupting
them with the foulest swearing. Mr. Wesley called to the waiter to
bring a glass of water. It was brought. "Carry this," he said
aloud, "to that gentleman in the red coat, and desire him to rinse
his mouth after his oaths." The officer rose up in a fury, with hand
on sword, but the gentlemen in his box pulled him down. "Nay,
colonel, you gave the first offence. You know it is an affront to
swear before a clergyman." The officer was restrained. Mr. Wesley
resumed his talk. And her mother went on to tell that, years after,
when the Rector was in London attending Convocation, a gentleman
stopped him one day as he crossed St. James's Park. "Do you know me,
Mr. Wesley?" "Sir, I have not that pleasure." "Will you know me,
then, if I remind you that once, in Smith's Coffee House, you taught
me a lesson? Since that time, sir, I thank God I have feared an oath
and everything that is offensive to the Divine Majesty. I rejoiced,
just now, to catch sight of you, and could not refrain from
expressing my gratitude."

And John inherited this gift of mastery. He could not understand
women, nor could she ever understand him: but she felt that the arm
she held was one of steel. To what end she and her sisters and her
mother had been sacrificed she could not yet divine: but the
encounter by the bridge had reawakened the Wesley pride in her, and
she walked acquiescent in a fate beyond her ken. She knew, too, that
he had dismissed the squabble from his mind and was thinking of her
confession and her soul's danger. But here she would not help him.

"You have heard," she asked, "that we are leaving Lincoln?"

This was news to him.

"Yes; my husband thinks of opening a business in London: but first he
must sell the shop and effects and pension off his father into
lodgings at Louth. That is the old man's native home, and he wishes
to end his days there. He is loth to leave the business; but truly
he has brought it low, and we must move if William is to make his
fortune."

"Moving to London will be a risk, and a heavy expense."

"Uncle Matthew is helping us, and it is settled that we move in the
autumn. We go into lodgings at first, and shall live in the humblest
way while we look about us for a good workshop and premises."

"Do you an