Wesley’s zeal for the extension of his Saviour’s kingdom would hardly let him rest when rest was requisite. His long life was an unbroken scene of gigantic action. He worked as though nothing could be done without his working; and yet no man more practically acknowledged, that all his work, without God’s blessing, would amount to nothing. Hence, not only his own ceaseless prayers for the help and co-operation of his great Master, but also his appointment of fast days to be observed by the thousands of his followers. Many of these are mentioned in his journals, but many were observed without being mentioned. One of these occurred at the time of which we are now writing. “Yesterday,” says Samuel Bardsley, on January 25, 1774, “yesterday I got a letter from Mr. Wesley, informing me that the 28th instant is to be observed as a day of fasting and prayer for the prosperity of the gospel.”[204] Numbers of such days were appointed. No wonder Wesley prospered. The first two months of 1774 were chiefly spent in London; and, on March 6, Wesley set out on his northern visitation, which, as usual, occupied his time till the conference was held in August. This journey has been so often traversed, that we shall no longer follow Wesley step by step; but merely advert to its chief incidents. At Wolverhampton he was met by his friend Fletcher, of Madeley, and says: “March 22--At five in the morning I explained that important truth, that God trieth us every moment, weighs all our thoughts, words, and actions, and is pleased or displeased with us, according to our works. I see more and more clearly, that there is a great gulf fixed between us and all those, who, by denying this, sap the very foundation both of inward and outward holiness.” When he had travelled as far as Congleton, he received intelligence which compelled him to retrace his steps, and go back to Bristol. The entry in the journal of this old man of more than seventy is a curiosity. “Wednesday, March 30--I went on to Congleton, where I received letters, informing me that my presence was necessary at Bristol. So, about one, I took chaise, and reached Bristol about half an hour after one the next day. Having done my business in about two hours, on Friday in the afternoon I reached Congleton again, about a hundred and forty miles from Bristol, no more tired (blessed be God!) than when I left it.” This is marvellous. Here we have a septuagenarian, in feeble health, travelling, not by railway, nor yet by coach, but in his own private chaise, in a wintry month, and on roads not macadamised, a distance of two hundred and eighty miles in about eight-and-forty hours, and then quietly sitting down and, without bombast, but with profound gratitude, recording the fact in the language above given. Can biography furnish a parallel to this? We doubt it.