If fleeting moments silently report
  Each action, motive, and unuttered thought;
  May this fair page no added witness bring
  Of time mis-used, as musing thought may spring. 
  No, rather let my muse abstracted turn;
  Forget to muse, and of my Saviour learn
  That rare humility, so highly prized
  By Him, who sees the heart all undisguised. 
  From Him my subject come, my thought proceed;
  To Him my motive tend, my action lead: 
  In all, I henceforth think, or speak, or do,
  The glory of my God be kept in view.

“1829.—­I am permitted to enter another year, but who can tell the event?  Suffice it; I can now say, I am Thine, and am resolved to form my life, whether long or short, by Thy precepts.  This morning an alarm is spread through the city—­’The Minster on fire.’  ’Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it?’ O Thou, who canst alone educe good out of seeming evil send, forth Thy light and truth.—­Visited Mrs. F——­s, we had a blessed interview:  Heaven shed its rays around us.  Here I proved that in Jesus difference of age is lost:  all ages and sects can in Him unite.—­The greater part of this day has been spent in reading, praying, visiting the sick, and the public means of grace:  all of which have been sources of profit to my soul.  How great are my privileges!  I think I am stripped of all dependance upon them; but fear I do not make that improvement of them which I ought.  Thankful I am for the decision I feel; but stand in doubt of myself, should a storm of persecution arise, whether I should be able to endure the fiery test.  Clouds gather round about; the signs of the times portend a season of trial; my heart, while I write, says, ‘I will be Thine:’  but Thou knowest how unstable I am,—­Three strangers came to the class; two of them were much affected.  I want to feel more deeply for souls, and to do every thing with a single eye.  I have several times been to visit an afflicted neighbour, who has often been warned to put away his sins; but is yet unsaved.  Never did I see friends more solicitous for the conversion of a relative; his poor afflicted wife prays, and entreats most earnestly, with tears:  it has to me been an affecting scene.  O may her prayers be answered!—­Another week gone; a week of mercy, warning, blessing, inward exercise, and peace.  On Tuesday night, I witnessed the deathbed scene of a neighbour:  dying is hard work.  At the funeral on Friday these lines were much impressed upon my mind:—­

  ’So live, that, when thou tak’st thy last long sleep. 
  Dying, may’st smile, when all around thee weep:’