George Whitefield, and a sober, serious young man, James Hervey, who
stood by the Oxford Methodists and endured without resentment the
sarcastic smiles of the many.

These young men organized committees to visit the sick; to search out
poor and despondent students and give them aid and encouragement; to
visit the jails and workhouses. The intent was to pattern their lives
after that of the Apostles. They were all very poor, but their wants
were few, and when John Wesley's income was thirty pounds a year he
gave two pounds for charity. When it was sixty pounds a year he gave
away thirty pounds; and here seems a good place to say that, although
he made more than a hundred thousand pounds during his life from his
books, he died penniless, just as he had wished and intended.

Thus matters stood in the year Seventeen Hundred Thirty-five, when
James Oglethorpe was attracted to that Oxford group of ascetic
enthusiasts. The life of Oglethorpe reads like a novel by James
Fenimore Cooper. He was of aristocratic birth, born of an Irish
mother, with a small bar sinister on his scutcheon that pushed him out
and set him apart. He was a graduate of Oxford, and it was on a visit
to his Alma Mater that he heard some sarcastic remarks flung off about
the Wesleys that seemed to commend them. People hotly denounced
usually have a deal of good in them. Oglethorpe was an officer in the
army, a philanthropist, a patron of art, and a soldier of fortune. He
had been a Member of Parliament, and at this particular time was
Colonial Governor of Georgia, home on a visit.

He had investigated Newgate and other prisons and had brought charges
against the keepers and succeeded in bringing their inhumanities
before the public. Hogarth has a picture of Oglethorpe visiting a