“Earthquakes in divers places, Mr. Wesley, 'twas from that text Dick Pritchard preached last Sunday.” The man's voice was lowered, and there was something of awe in his whisper. “He prophesied that there would be an earthquake in divers places--meaning the sea--before the coming of the terrible day, Monday next. Now you know, sir, why I said naught that was particular--only hazy like--that none could seize hold upon about Thursday's fishing. But I've told you, Mr. Wesley, whatever may happen.” He took off his hat and walked away, when he had looked for some moments into Wesley's face, and noted the expression that it wore. And, indeed, Wesley was perturbed as he turned and went up the little track that led to the summit of the cliffs, and the breezy space that swept up to the wood. He was greatly perturbed by the plain statement of the fisherman. He had been anxious to take the most favourable view of Pritchard and his predictions. He had believed that the man, however foolish and vain he might be, had been sincere in his conviction that he was chosen by Heaven to prophesy the approaching end of all things; but now the impression was forced upon him that the man was on a level with the soothsayers of heathendom. Even though he had taken a ludicrously illiterate view of the text, “There shall be earthquakes in divers places,” he had made it the subject of another prediction, and it seemed as if this prediction had actually been realised, although only a single fisherman, and he a friend of Pritchard's, was in a position to testify to it. Wesley had heard it said more than once that the finding of water by the aid of a divining rod was a devil's trick; but he had never taken such a view of the matter; he affirmed that he would be slow to believe that a skill which had for its object so excellent an object as the finding of a spring of the most blessed gift of water, should be attributed to the Enemy. He preferred to assume that the finding of water was the result of a certain delicacy of perception on the part of the man with the hazel wand, just as the detection of a false harmony in music is due to a refinement of the sense of hearing on the part of other men. But was he to believe that any man possessed such a sense as enabled him to predict an earthquake? It was impossible for him to believe it. And what then was he to think of the man who had foretold such an event--an event which had actually taken place within a week of his prediction? The man could only be a soothsayer. The very fact of his corrupting the text out of the Sacred Word was a proof of this. If he were in the service of God, he would never have mistaken the word in the text to mean the sea. The man was a servant of the Evil One, and Wesley felt once more that he himself had been to blame in admitting him to his fellowship, without subjecting him to such tests as would have proved his faith.