You some time ago requested me to give you the result of my inquiries into the tenets of the different religious sects which I had been acquainted with; and respecting which we had at different times conversed. In the time which has since elapsed I have been endeavouring, both to ascertain them more completely, and to compare them with what I conceive to be the true spirit of Christianity; but the subject has so grown as I proceeded, that even now I can only give you a very short, and I fear, in some cases, an imperfect notion of them. Yet the subject is one of deep interest; and as I feel convinced that if we looked a little closer into the differences between the established church and those who separate from it, both parties would find them smaller and less important than they imagine, and that Christian charity would be increased by the examination, I do not shrink from the task however inadequately I may execute it. I propose therefore to show you by extracts from the works of the principal writers among the different religious sects, how they all agree in most of the fundamental doctrines of Christianity; at the same time that I point out the evil consequences which I conceive would ensue were some of their tenets _fully carried out_ into practice: and also to state wherein their peculiar opinions appear to me to be opposed to “the truth as it is in Christ Jesus,” so far as to prevent me from adopting them; though I can fully believe that those who hold these opinions in the abstract, may, notwithstanding, be excellent practical Christians. Firmly attached as I am to the Church of England, whose form of worship (allowing for the imperfections which naturally cling to all human institutions), I consider preferable to any other; I can still see much to admire in other persuasions and other ceremonies, mixed up, though it be, with some imperfections and error; and my love to the established church does not blind me to some matters which might be better otherwise, and which I shall point out as I proceed. “Of all the Christian graces,” says a quaint writer, “zeal is the most apt to turn sour;” and the observation is no less true than it is sad, for men too seldom remember that they must add to their faith knowledge, and that both are of no avail without the crowning gift of charity, {3} or in other words, brotherly love for all mankind. The real Christian, it seems to me, should imitate the liberality of St. Paul, who, after having been bred up in the habits of the “strictest sect” of the Jews, scrupled not to quit all his former prejudices, in order to preach Christ to the Gentiles, without disgusting them by ceremonies which were no fundamental part of the religion he taught, and was content to become “as a Jew, that he might gain the Jews, and to them that were without law, to become as without law (being not without law to God), that he might by all means save some.” {4}