I had arrived concerning the books of the Bible. I conceived myself
to be resting under an Indian Figtree, which is supported by certain
grand stems, but also lets down to the earth many small branches,
which seem to the eye to prop the tree, but in fact are supported
by it. If they were cut away, the tree would not be less strong.
So neither was the tree of Christianity weakened by the loss of its
apparent props. I might still enjoy its shade, and eat of its fruits,
and bless the hand that planted it.

In the course of this period I likewise learnt how inadequate
allowance I had once made for the repulsion produced by my own
dogmatic tendency on the sympathies of the unevangelical. I now
often met persons of Evangelical opinion, but could seldom have any
interchange of religious sentiment with them, because every word they
uttered warned me that I could escape controversy only while I kept
them at a distance: moreover, if any little difference of opinion led
us into amicable argument, they uniformly reasoned by quoting texts.
This was now inadmissible with me, but I could only have done mischief
by going farther than a dry disclaimer; after which indeed I saw I was
generally looked on as "an infidel." No doubt the parties who so came
into collision with me, approached me often with an earnest desire
and hope to find some spiritual good in me, but withdrew disappointed,
finding me either cold and defensive, or (perhaps they thought) warm
and disputatious. Thus, as long as artificial tests of spirituality
are allowed to exist, their erroneousness is not easily exposed by
the mere wear and tear of life. When the collision of opinion is
very strong, two good men may meet, and only be confirmed in their
prejudices against one another: for in order that one may elicit
the spiritual sympathies of the other, a certain liberality is
prerequisite. Without this, each prepares to shield himself from