ke a man that, having sought it very
industriously, is at last obliged to stick it on a pin's point, and look
at it through a microscope; and I could easily convict him of having
denied many beauties, and overlooked more. Whether his judgement be in
itself defective, or whether it be warped by collateral considerations,
a writer upon such subjects as I have chosen would probably find but
little mercy at his hands.

_To the Rev. William Unwin_

I say amen, with all my heart, to your observations on religious
characters. Men who profess themselves adepts in mathematical knowledge,
in astronomy, or jurisprudence, are generally as well qualified as they
would appear. The reason may be that they are always liable to detection
should they attempt to impose upon mankind, and therefore take care to
be what they pretend. In religion alone a profession is often taken up
and slovenly carried on, because, forsooth, candour and charity require
us to hope the best, and to judge favourably of our neighbour, and
because it is easy to deceive the ignorant, who are a great majority,
upon this subject.

Let a man attach himself to a particular party, contend furiously for
what are properly called evangelical doctrines, and enlist himself under
the banner of some popular preacher, and the business is done. Behold a
Christian! a saint! a phoenix! In the meantime, perhaps, his heart and
his temper, and even his conduct, are unsanctified; possibly less
exemplary than those of some avowed infidels. No matter--he can talk--he
has the shibboleth of the true Church--the Bible in his pocket, and a
head well stored with notions.

But the quiet, humble, modest, and peaceable person, who is in his
practice what the other is only in his profession, who hates a noise,
and therefore makes none; who, knowing the snares that are in the world,
keeps himself as much out of it as he can, is the Christian that will
always stand highest in the estimation of those who bring all characters
to the test of true wisdom, and judge of the tree by its fruit.

_To the Same_

Olney, _August_ 3, 1782. It is a sort of paradox, but it is true; we are
never more in danger than when we think ourselves most secure, nor in
reality more secure than when we seem to be most in danger. Both sides
of this apparent contradiction were lately verified in my experience.
Passing from the greenhouse to the barn, I saw three kittens--for we
have so many in our retinue--look