Monday, December 3. -- I rode to Canterbury and preached on Revelation 20. A few turbulent people made a little noise, as I found it was their custom to do. Perceiving more of them were gathered the next night, I turned and spoke to them at large. They appeared to be not a little confounded and went away as quiet as lambs.

Wednesday, 5. -- I walked over the cathedral and surveyed the monuments of the ancient men of renown. One would think such a sight should strike an utter damp upon human vanity. What are the great, the fair, the valiant now? the matchless warrior -- the puissant monarch?

An heap of dust is all remains of thee!

'Tis, all thou art, and all the proud shall be.

Monday, 10. -- I rode to Leigh, in Essex, where I found a little company seeking God and endeavored to encourage them in "provoking one another to love and good works."

Monday, 17. -- I set upon cleansing Augeas's stable; upon purging that huge work, Mr. Fox's Acts and Monuments, from all the trash which that honest, injudicious writer has heaped together and mingled with those venerable records, which are worthy to be had in everlasting remembrance.