them that hold unconditional decrees are not sensible of this. For they seriously believe themselves to be in the high road to salvation, though they are far from inward (if not outward) holiness. They have not "put on humbleness of mind, bowels of mercy, brotherly kindness." They have no gentleness, no meekness, no long-suffering; so far are they from the "love that endureth all things." They are under the power of sin; of evil surmising; of anger; yea, of outward sin. For they scruple not to say to their brother, "Thou fool!" They not only, on a slight provocation, make no scruple of rendering evil for evil, of returning railing for railing; but they bring railing accusations unprovoked; they pour out floods of the lowest, basest invectives. And yet they are within the decree! I instance in the two late publications of Mr. Rowland Hill. "O," says Mr. Hill, "but Mr. Wesley is a wicked man." What then? Is he more wicked than him that disputed with Michael about the body of Moses? How, then, durst he bring a railing accusation against a man, when an archangel durst not bring one against the devil? O fight, fight for an unconditional decree! For if there be any condition, how can you be saved?

GOD'S EYES ARE OVER ALL THE EARTH.

MANY years ago, as my eldest brother was walking in the back street of Hackney, a gentleman accosted him, and said, "Sir, I am old, and I would willingly inform you of a remarkable scene of Providence, that it may be remembered when I am gone hence: I was walking here some time since, (as I frequently do,) early in a morning, when a chariot stopped at a little distance from me, and a young lady, stepping out, ran by me with all her might. A gentleman quickly followed her, caught her, and brought her back; when I just heard her say, What, my dear, will you serve me so?' Immediately that door over against us opened, and he thrust her in before him. I mused upon it all day and all night, and was very uneasy. In the morning, a gardener which I employed coming in, I asked him, 'Do you know such a house in Hackney?' He answered, Sir, I am going to trim the trees in the garden next to it; and I will make any inquiries which you desire, and bring you back the best account I can.' The account he gave me the next morning was this: When I went to work, I saw over a low hedge a gardener trimming the trees in the other garden; and I asked him, Pray, who lives in that house?' On his answering, 'A mad doctor;' I asked,Has he many patients?' He said, 'I do not know, though I dine in the house; for he never suffers any to see them.' I said, 'I will give you a pot of beer, if you can find the name of a young lady that came in a day or two ago.' He answered, 'I cannot promise; but I will do my best when I go in to dinner.' When I saw him again, he said, 'No patient in the house dares speak to any one; and I could get no pen, ink, and paper; but I got a pin and a card, on which a young woman has pricked her name: here it is.' I took the card, and knew the name. The next day I went to her father, and asked, Sir, where is your daughter?' He said, She is lately married to a very wortny

man, and is gone with her husband into the country.' I then told him the story, and we went together to the lord chief justice. Early in the morning we went to the doctor's house, and knocked at the door. He looked through a little grate, and bade us go on our way; we had no business with him. I answered,Here is the lord chief justice's warrant, and his tipstaff. Open the door, or we shall break it open.' He then opened it, and I asked, Where is the young lady that was brought in hither three days ago?' He answered, There is no such person in my house; you may search it from top to bottom.' We did so; but could not find any trace of her. Coming down the stairs, I said, 'Is there no one under these stairs?' The doctor answered, There is a poor creature; but she is so outrageous, that we are obliged to shut her up in the dark.' On his opening the door, she put out her head. My friend sighed, and said, I know nothing of this poor thing.' She answered, What, sir, am I so altered in three days, that you do not know your own daughter?' He immediately knew her voice, and took her home. Her husband was very glad to refund her fortune."

JOHN WESLEY

A REMARKABLE PROVIDENCE.

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A GENTLEMAN walking with Mr. Chapoon, (uncle to Mr. Roquet,) in Moorfields, proposed stepping into Bedlam. After they had walked there awhile, they were turning to go out, when a young woman cried, "Sir, I desire to speak with you." His friend said, Sure, you will not stay to hear a mad woman's tale." He answered, “Indeed I will:" on which the other went away. She then said, “ My father left me and my fortune in the hands of my uncle. A young gentleman offered me marriage, and all things were agreed on; when one morning my uncle took me out with him in the chariot, as he said, to see a friend; but instead of this, he brought me to Bedlam, where I have been confined ever since."

"Your story is plausible," said Mr. C., "but how shall I know it is the truth?" "Very easily," said she. "The gentleman that was to marry me, lives within a day's journey of London. Write to him; and tell him you have something to say concerning me, and would be glad to meet him at such a place in town. If he does not come, let this all pass for a mad woman's dream." Mr. C. wrote, and asked the gentleman, who came to the place appointed, whether he knew such a person. He answered, "Perfectly well. We were to have been married before now; but her uncle sent me word she was taken ill." Mr. C. then told him the whole story. He immediately sent to her uncle; who was very ready to take her out, and pay her fortune, to avoid farther trouble.

So the curiosity of one to see a strange place, and of another to hear a strange tale, was a means of detecting a notorious scene of villany, and of setting an innocent sufferer at liberty!

JOHN WESLEY.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE BROTHERS' STEPS.

LAST Summer [1780] I received a letter from a friend, wherein were these words:

"I THINK it would be worth your while to take a view of those wonderful marks of the Lord's hatred to duelling, called The Brothers' Steps. They are in the fields, about a third of a mile northward from Montague-house; and the awful tradition concerning them is, that two brothers quarrelled about a worthless woman, and, according to the fashion of those days, fought with sword and pistol. The prints of their feet are about the depth of three inches, and nothing will vegetate so much as to disfigure them. The number is only eighty-three; but probably some are at present filled up; for I think there were formerly more in the centre, where each unhappy combatant wounded the other to death and a bank on which the first who fell, died, retains the form of his agonizing couch, by the curse of barrenness, while grass flourishes all about it. Mr. George Hall, who was the librarian of Lincoln's-Inn, first showed me those steps, twenty-eight years ago, when, I think, they were not quite so deep as now. He remembered them about thirty years, and the man who first showed them him, about thirty more, which goes back to the year 1692; but I suppose they originated in King Charles the Second's reign. My mother well remembered their being ploughed up, and corn sown, to deface them, about fifty years ago: but all was labour in vain; for the prints returned in a while to their pristine form; as probably will those that are now filled up. Indeed I think an account of them in your Magazine would be a pious memorial of their lasting reality.

"These hints are only offered as a small token of my good will to yourself and the work, by your son and brother in the Gospel,

"JOHN WALSH.”

This account appeared to me so very extraordinary, that I knew not what to think of it. I knew Mr. Walsh to be a person of good under. standing and real piety; and he testified what he had seen with his own eyes: but still I wanted more witnesses, till, awhile ago, being at Mr. Cary's, in Copthall Buildings, I occasionally mentioned The Brothers' Footsteps; and asked the company if they had heard any thing of them. "Sir," said Mr. Cary, "sixteen years ago, I saw and counted them myself." Another added, "And I saw them four years ago." I could then no longer doubt but they had been; and a week or two after I went with Mr. Cary and another person to seek them.

We sought for near half an hour in vain. We could find no steps at all within a quarter of a mile, no, nor half a mile, north of Montaguehouse. We were almost out of hope, when an honest man, who was at work, directed us to the next ground, adjoining to a pond. There we found what we sought for, about three quarters of a mile north of Montague-house, and about five hundred yards east of Tottenham-court Road. The steps answer Mr. Walsh's description. They are of the size of a large human foot, about three inches deep, and lie nearly from north-east to south-west. We counted only seventy-six; but we were not exact in counting. The place where one or both the brothers are supposed to have fallen, is still bare of grass. The labourer showed us also the bank, where (the tradition is) the wretched woman sat to see the combat.

What shall we say to these things? Why, to Atheists, or Infidels of

any kind, I would not say one word about them. For "if they hear not Moses and the Prophets," they will not regard any thing of this kind But to men of candour, who believe the Bible to be of God, I would say, Is not this an astonishing instance, held forth to all the inhabitants of London, of the justice and power of God? Does not the curse he has denounced upon this ground bear some little resemblance to that of our Lord on the barren fig tree, "Henceforth let no fruit grow upon thee for ever?" I see no reason or pretence for any rational man to doubt of the truth of the story; since it has been confirmed by these open, visible tokens for more than a hundred years successively.

A PROVIDENTIAL EVENT.

THE forty king's scholars at Westminster school lodge in one room, which is called the dormitory. While my eldest brother was at school the head boy cried out vehemently one morning, "Lads, lads! you oversleep yourselves! you lie too late: it is time to be at school." They all started up, dressed as quick as they could, and ran down with him. When they came into the cloisters, one who was a little before the rest saw something white, and cried out, "What have we got here?" They went up to it, and found a man stark naked, and so benumbed that he could not speak. Just then the clock struck two. They took him up, carried him into the dormitory, and put him into a warm bed. After some rest, he recovered his senses and speech; and being asked how he came into that condition, he told them, as he was coming over Chelsea Fields, he was robbed by two footpads, who then stripped him stark naked, tied him neck and heels, and threw him into a ditch. There he must have perished, but that some young women, coming to market very early in the morning, heard him groan, and, going to the ditch, untied him, and then ran away. He made toward the town as well as he could, till, being unable to walk any farther, he crept into the cloisters upon his hands and feet, where he lay till the king's scholars came. Probably in an hour or two he would have expired. After he had slept some hours, they gave him something warm to drink; then one gave him a shirt, another a coat or waistcoat, others what they could spare, till they had clothed him from head to foot. They then collected for him among themselves about forty shillings, and wished him well home. See the wisdom of God, making the sport of a boy the means of saving a poor man's life! JOHN WESLEY.

AN EXTRAORDINARY CURE.

BISHOP HALL, speaking of the good offices which angels do to God's servants, says, "Of this kind was that marvellous cure which was wrought upon a poor cripple at St. Madern's, in Cornwall; whereof, besides the attestation of many hundreds of the neighbours, I took a strict examination in my last visitation: This man, for sixteen years

together, was obliged to walk upon his hands, by reason the sinews of his legs were so contracted. Upon an admonition in his dream, to wash in a certain well, he was suddenly so restored to his limbs, that I saw him able to walk and get his own maintenance. The name of this cripple was John Trebble."

And were "many hundreds of the neighbours," together with Bishop Hall, deceived in so notorious a matter of fact? or did they all join together to palm such a falsehood on the world? O incredulity! what ridiculous shifts art thou driven to! what absurdities wilt thou not believe, rather than own any extraordinary work of God!

MURDER PREVENTED BY A THREEFOLD DREAM.

MONDAY, April 2, 1781, I was informed by a person in an eminent station, of a very uncommon incident :

:

He had occasion to correct, with a few stripes, a lad that lived with him at Rochester, which he resented so as to leave his place. But some time after he seemed to repent, humbled himself, and was received again. He now behaved in a most becoming manner, and was doubly diligent in his service.

But his mistress dreamed one night, that this lad was going to cut her throat and she had a twin sister, between whom and her there is so strange a sympathy, that if either of them is ill, or particularly affected at any time, the other is so likewise. This sister wrote to her from another part of the kingdom, that she had dreamed the very same thing. She carried this letter to her father, a gentleman that lives not far off, and was surprised to hear that he likewise, on the same night, had had a dream to the same effect.

The lad had been observed to come up, about noon, into his lady's apartment, with a case knife in his hand; and being asked why he dia so, he said, he was going into the adjoining room, to scrape the dirt off from his master's embroidered clothes.

His master now took the lad aside, and examined him strictly. After denying it for a considerable time, it was at length extorted from him, that he had always remembered, with indignation, his master's severity to him, and that he was fully resolved to be revenged, but in what par ticular manner he would not confess. On this he was totally dismissed without delay. JOHN WESLEY.

AN ANSWER TO A REPORT.

I HAVE lately heard, to my no small surprise, that a person professing himself a Quaker, and supposed to be a man of some character, `has confidently reported, that he has been at Sunderland himself, and inquired into the case of Elizabeth Hobson; that she was a woman of a very indifferent character; that the story she told was purely her own invention; and that John Wesley himself was now fully convinced that there was no truth in it.