Morning chilly but fair weather. I went to Meeting all day, accompanied by my Wife in the morning. A certain Mr. Putnam preached,1 in the morning a Sermon full of Common Places upon the mutability of human affairs. Quite a Common place, and totally useless Sermon. He is a young Man, my Junior in College, without much ballast. His discourse in the afternoon was upon the use of the world, and encouraged decidedly the disposition of men to attend to temporal matters. This I thought also indiscreet, the human mind is always prone enough to be engrossed with the love of the things of this world, and needs no 413authorized stimulus from the sacred desk. Let the fact be as it may, the actual operation of such language from a Preacher as this young man used, is to make all who are avid of gain still more so, with the further encouragement which their conscience quieted gives them. The love of Money is not perfectly in unison, with Charity or any of the expensive Virtues. A young Man may do Mischief when he treads upon doubtful ground.

I finished and copied a long letter to my Father, which engrossed the whole day, being the longest I ever wrote.2 Evening finished the book upon Spain, and after my Wife retired, made progress in Middleton’s Life of Cicero, also read the Tatler.