with the green fields on either side, he lifted up his voice and sang
one of his brother's hymns. Exile from Oxford meant liberty.

Arriving at a village he would stand on the church-steps, on a street-
corner, often from a tavern-veranda, and speak. In his saddlebags he
carried his black robe and white tippet. He could put these on over
his travel-stained clothes and look presentable. His hair was worn
long and parted in the middle; his face was cleanly shaved, and
revealed comely features of remarkable strength.

The man was a commanding figure. People felt the honesty of his
presence. The crowd might cat-call, and jeer, but those who stood near
offered no violence. Indeed, more than once the roughs protected him.
He preached of righteousness and judgment to come. He pleaded for a
better life--here and now. And so he traveled, preaching three or four
times a day, and riding from twenty to fifty miles. At London he
preached on the "heaths," and thousands upon thousands who never
entered a church heard him. That phrase, "They came to scoff and
remained to pray," is his.

Wesley's oratory was not what is known to us as "the Methodist style."
He was quiet, moderate, conversational, but so earnest that his words
carried conviction. The man was honest--he wanted nothing--he gave
himself.

Such a man today, preaching in the same way, would command marked
attention and achieve success. The impassioned preaching of Whitefield
was what gave the "Methodist color." Charles Wesley was much like
Whitefield, and was regarded as a greater preacher than his brother
because he indulged in more gymnastics--but John was far the greater