ance, whether they related to private matters or to
the public well-being. She had no more dread of Mrs. Grundy than her
sons had. Once she knew she was right, "Society" might either blame or
praise, as it saw fit; she remained firm in the carrying out of the
measure--true to her principles.

When her sons, John and Charles, collected the common and poorer people
about them, and began preaching to them in the open fields, there was a
fearful outcry. Old-time customs had been innovated. Clergymen of the
Church of England had departed from accustomed usage, and from field or
horseblock had proclaimed a full and free salvation through Christ to
the very vilest of the land, if they would but comply with the
conditions laid down by him. The Profession were aggrieved at such
irregular proceedings. "Society" was scandalized that outcasts were
bidden to the same feast upon the same conditions with those reputed
decent. Even Samuel Wesley felt called upon to rebuke his brothers
sharply for the reproach he considered they had brought upon the Church
by their "intemperate zeal," But where was their mother meanwhile--she
whose counsels experience had proved it best to follow? Examining the
Scriptures, and the history of the primitive Church, to see wherein her
sons had gone astray, that she might be in a position to convince them
of their error, if she found them to be in it. Careful study, however,
convinced her that they were only practicing the course followed by
Christ and his apostles; and her determination was taken. She would not
only encourage them by her letters, but sustain them and sanction their
course by her presence. Accordingly, she went with her son John to
Kensington Common, and stood by him while he preached to a congregation
of about "twenty thousand people."

It was Mrs. Wesley who counseled John to ponder well what he did before
he forbade laymen to address congregations; and her arguments on this
point were so conclusive that they led him to alter his mind and make
use of them as an agency for good in the Church, though previously he
had considered such a proceeding a dangerous innovation.

During the life-time of her husband, it was her custom, in his absence,
to allow those who chose to come to assemble in a room of the old
rectory at Epworth, on Sunday, and either read them a sermon herself or
have one of the elder children do it. Frequently, the office of reader
devolved upon her daughter Emily.

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