The air changed in the night and gave us a cold Easterly morning. I went to Meeting as usual after spending half an hour upon Loudon’s Encyclopedia. Mr. Putnam of Roxbury preached. Luke 16. 10. “He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much.” Mr. Walsh with whom I walked was dissatisfied with the discourse and complained of a gross deficiency in it of moral discrimination. It was so clearly. Mr. Putnam did not take the words in the right sense, not as an argument a priori, but as a levelling of all degrees of error. He reduced the whole to a performance of duty. This is various, one man 393performs his duty in small things while another neglects them. The inference however from the conduct of these would seem to be that the first would be more likely to do his duty in great matters than the last. Mr. Putnam is young and writes without distinguishing. Afternoon, his discourse was better, from Job 7. 16. “I would not live alway.”

In the afternoon, read a discourse of Dr. Barrow intended for Christmas day. Luke 2. 10. “And the angel said unto them. Fear not, for behold I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all people.” The causes of rejoicing at the nativity of a Saviour—A very good discourse. Afterwards, I read a little of Ariosto. Evening at home, I read Swift.

Still cold weather. My little girl is still suffering under the infliction of a severe cough. This complaint is as serious in it’s consequences as in itself. I went to the Office and was occupied partly in Accounts, partly in copying the Deed and partly in my Diary.

Little or no political news of any consequence. Our public affairs are in their aspect very gloomy just at present. And the people seem to have lost their balance so far as to mistake right and wrong perpetually. This is a strange state of affairs and will I hope turn out for the best, but I fear.

Home, Livy—The Battle of Cannae and it’s effects. Afternoon, Sismondi, Ariosto and a little of Forster but not much. My time now passes very quietly and hardly furnishes subject for journalizing. Swift, Irish Pamphlets.

A continuation of the cold Easterly storm which we have had for so long without however having any rain. My little girl is advancing slowly but is still troubled with her cough. I went to the Office and finished the recording of the Deed to Betsey Thayer, which must now be sent to Dedham, although I should suppose that part of the duty properly belonged to the Lessee.

Engaged in preparing a settlement of account, for the year. My affairs are now so voluminous as to make this a matter of some little importance. In reviewing all the incidents of the past year, I find reason to be further grateful for all the benefits bestowed upon me 394and to be content. I find also some calls upon my prudence in consequence of the extraordinary increase of my expenditure. This has risen one third during the last year.

Home, Livy. Afternoon, Sismondi, Portuguese Literature, Ariosto, and Forster upon Rubens’ painting of the resurrection in the gallery at Dusseldorf. Evening, Grahame’s U.S. He has rewritten his history and continued it down to the Revolution. I began the second writing comparing it with the first.1 My Wife and her two guests were out in the evening. Afterwards, Swifts Drapier’s Letters in which I fully see the power of his style.