O would’st Thou, Lord, descend,
    My mother’s heart to cheer;
  This unbelief to rend,
  And dissipate her fear: 
    Thou glorious Sun, unveil the skies;
  With healing in Thy wings arise. 
  Thy promise, Lord, I hold,
    ’The evening shall be light,’—­
  The cloud its pinions fold,
    And vanish out of sight: 
  O Jesus, come, Thy face display. 
  And eventide is turned to day.

“Proclamation of William the 4th.  In company with some friends, I climbed to the top of Clifford’s Tower, in hope of seeing the procession; but after waiting more than an hour, I went away disappointed, and grieved at the loss of my time.  Let me learn from this, always to do what I believe to be most needful; for my mind was dissipated, and I failed to recover in the class what I had enjoyed in the early hours of the day.  O how needful to keep the path of duty, and retire from the multitude.—­The Rev. Joseph Agar has dies happily, at Portsmouth:  of brain fever.  An unusual feeling oppressed my mind on the afternoon of his departure; why, I know not.—­The Rev. E. Batty took tea with us, and suggested a method of usefulness, which has for some time been the subject of my thoughts; but to choose, or refuse are Thine:  ’Thy will be done.’—­I walked to Acomb to visit a friend, and on the way asked myself, why I should go; and not being able to answer for myself, put the case into the hands of God, beseeching him to make my way plain before me; to bless me, and make me a blessing.  I met with a kind reception—­slept well—­and rose about six with a desire to give myself to the Lord.  In the afternoon I accompanied Mrs. R. to her class:  it was the second time of their meeting.  Mrs. R. read the rules; and afterwards, I endeavoured to speak a little to them.  When addressing the third, she burst into tears through the disquietude of her soul.  We knelt down to pray; and while Mrs. R. was pleading, the woman began to praise God for what He had done for her soul, and said she had been unhappy for years—­but that now the Lord had given her peace.  We continued on our knees, and in a little while another person, who through unwatchfulness had gone astray, professed that the Lord had restored her soul.  The third (for there were but three) went away, resolved not to rest until she had found the Lord.—­We went to invite the people to the prayer-meeting in the evening, and then visited the churchyard.  There, the solemn silence, dwelling among sepulchral stones and the falling leaves, moved my soul to the consideration of my own mortality.  May I so live, that I may hear the welcome words, ‘Well done.’  I feel deeply on account of my own nothingness.  The prayer-meeting to-night is proposed because I am here.  I am humbled at the thought.  What am I? a poor worm.  Oh! wouldest Thou use a thing of nought? prepare the people, prepare me, and pour out Thy holy spirit.  I was surprised at the number of people gathered together on so short a notice.