Pickman returned this afternoon from Salem. The Club were in the evening at my room: Young Fowle, Thompson's poetical Class-mate spent the evening with us. Pickman went off quite early. He attended a ball in Salem, last evening, and what with 398the fatigue of dancing, and that of riding this day he was tired out.

After passing the day at the Office, I stroll'd with Pickman, as far as Sawyer's tavern, where we stopp'd and took a dish of tea. When we set out to return there was a little sprinkling of rain, which we thought was not sufficient to stay our progress: but it kept continually increasing till it became quite a smart rain, and by that time we were so much soak'd that we concluded the sooner we should get home would be the better. As soon as I got home I was obliged to change from head to foot. Pickman said, it was one of the agreeable rubs of life.

I this day got through the 4th. volume of Blackstone's Commentaries a second time, and I imagine I have derived no less benefit from a second perusal, than I did from the first. I have been longer about it than I wish'd, but the interruption of an whole fortnight by a Journey prolonged the time which I took for reading this book, greatly.

In the evening I took a long walk with Pickman and Thompson, and as we were returning, we met Mr. Andrews who was coming from Cambridge.

Nothing new. Dull weather.

I heard Mr. Andrews preach, his sermons were both very short; but better I think than those he delivered last Sunday; his text was, “If they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither would they be perswaded though one rose from the dead.” Pickman observed, that there was a Sermon of Archbishop Tillotson, from the same Text, and the similarity is such as proves that Mr. Andrews had read it; though not so great as to charge him with plagiarism. However, the people in this Town, are so bigotted that a Man of Mr. Andrews's liberal religious sentiments will not be half so popular a preacher, as one who would rant and rave and talk nonsense for an hour together in his Sermon. I wrote a long Letter to my brother Tom;1 which I gave to Mr. An-399drews; with whom I pass'd the evening at Mr. Bradbury's. Dr. Sawyer, and Mr. Farnham, were likewise there. Parson Carey is still very unwell, insomuch, that there are but little hopes of his ever recovering, so as to attend constantly to the duties of his profession. Mr. Andrews is engaged to supply our pulpit three Sundays more. After which he is under other engagements till Commencement.