Morning fine. Attended Divine Service all day and heard Mr. 279Whitney preach a couple of Sermons upon the spirit which is now so prevalent, of Universalism.1 He is himself as much inclined that way as was advisable, but he draws a distinction, by which he admits the probability of future though not eternal punishment, against the doctrines of probable salvation in any event. A more dangerous doctrine than this can scarcely be conceived yet the tendency is always towards it. Nothing is more dangerous than liberality as it is affectedly called, for vice slides in under so specious a mask that good men find they are left in the lurch before they are at all aware of it. Mr. Whitney is a good man but one of the weak ones who does not see where his doctrines will be likely to leave him. Already he is alarmed by the distant sound, but he is likely to feel what he has been so long bringing about much more harshly before he dies. Another sect is trying to gain a footing and will probably succeed.2 The singing at this Church is horrible though called by the performers so fine as to inflict upon us a great deal of it.

In the evening I walked up to my Aunt Adams’ to make another attempt to see Miss Elizabeth, which I barely succeeded in doing. She is always out, and her Mother is so silly as to try to excuse it to me as if I cared. They sent for her tonight, so that I finished that Quarterly business, much to my satisfaction. Returned home to a quiet supper.