religion.

Before going into church he urged his protege, Stevens, to consent
to share in the ceremonies of the service as a layman; but there was
still some saving virtue in the young man, which made him resolute
in refusing to do so. Perhaps, his refusal was dictated by a policy
like that which had governed him so far already; which made him
reluctant to commit himself to a degree which might increase very
much the hazards of detection. He feared, indeed, the restraints
which the unequivocal adoption of the profession would impose
upon him, fettering somewhat the freedom of his intercourse with
the young of both sexes, and, consequently, opposing an almost
insurmountable barrier to the prevailing object which had brought
him to the village. Whatever may have been the feelings or motives
which governed him, they, at least, saved him from an act which
would have grievously aggravated his already large offence against
truth and propriety. He declined, in language of the old hypocrisy.
He did not feel justified in taking up the cross--he felt that he
was not yet worthy; and, among the members of a church, which takes
largely into account the momentary impulses and impressions of the
professor, the plea was considered a sufficiently legitimate one.

But though Stevens forbore to commit himself openly in the cause
which he professed a desire to espouse, he was yet sufficiently
heedful to maintain all those externals of devotion which a serious
believer would be apt to exhibit. He could be a good actor of a
part, and in this lay his best talent. He had that saving wisdom
of the worldling, which is too often estimated beyond its worth,
called cunning; and the frequent successes of which produces that
worst of all the diseases that ever impaired the value of true