In all this the world saw nought but oddity and folly, and called these hardworking and godly students “Bible bigots,” and “Bible moths;” but, in the midst of all, Wesley calmly pursued the path which he had marked out for himself and his friends. Gambold, in a letter written whilst Wesley was in Georgia, tells us that Wesley at Oxford was always cheerful but never arrogant. By strict watchfulness, he beat down the impetuosity of his nature into a childlike simplicity. His piety was nourished by continual communion with God, for he thought prayer to be his greatest duty; and often did Gambold see him come out of his closet of devotion with a serenity of countenance that was next to shining. The secret consolations of God seldom left him, and never but in a posture of strong and longsuffering faith. In him there were no idle cravings, no chagrin or sickliness of spirit. Slanders never ruffled him, and his chief fear was lest he should grow proud of this conformity to his great Master. Coming home from long journeys, where he had been in different companies, he would calmly resume his usual employments, as if he had never left them. Himself setting an example, he urged upon his associates method, diligence, and early rising. His hours for private devotion were from five to six o’clock every morning and every night. Every day he noted in a diary what had been his chief employments; and one day every week he set apart for writing letters to his friends.[77] His charity to the poor was limited only by the means at his command. One cold winter’s day, he tells us, a young girl, whom the Methodists kept at school, called upon him in a state nearly frozen, to whom he said, “You seem half-starved; have you nothing to wear but that linen gown?” The poor girl said, “Sir, this is all I have.” Wesley put his hand in his pocket, but found it nearly empty. The walls of his chamber however were hung with pictures, and these now became his accusers. “It struck me,” says he, “will thy Master say, ‘Well done, good and faithful steward’? thou hast adorned thy walls with the money which might have screened this poor creature from the cold! O Justice! O Mercy! Are not these pictures the blood of this poor maid?”[78] To say the least, this story shows the intense conscientiousness of the man, and his dread of spending anything upon himself which might have been spent more properly upon the poor. He says it was the practice of all the Oxford Methodists to give away each year all they had after providing for their own necessities; and then, as an illustration, he adds, in reference to himself, “One of them had thirty pounds a year. He lived on twenty-eight, and gave away forty shillings. The next year receiving sixty pounds, he still lived on twenty-eight, and gave away thirty-two. The third year he received ninety pounds, and gave away sixty-two. The fourth year he received a hundred and twenty pounds;