become so changed, and what has induced me to adopt social views so different from those I formerly held.  The fact is, that since I have been here, I have been thrown into every variety of companionship, from the highest to the lowest, from the educated gentleman and scholar to the uncultivated boor.  The first effect was, a disposition to admire the freedom and bluntness of the uncivilized; but more personal experience showed me the dark as well as the bright side, and brought out in their due prominence the advantages of the conventionalities of good society.  While in the bush, this conviction only impressed itself partially, but a return to town extended and confirmed it.  When we are in daily contact and intercourse with an immense number of persons, some of whom we like, while we dislike or feel indifferent about many others, we find a difficulty in avoiding one man’s acquaintance without offending him, or of keeping another at a distance without an insult.  It is not easy to treat your superiors with respect void of sycophancy, or to be friendly with those you prefer, and at the same time to steer clear of undue familiarity, adapting yourself to circumstances and persons, and, in fact, doing always the right thing at the proper time and in the best possible manner.  I used to be rather proud of saying that it was necessary for strangers to know me for some time before they liked me.  I am almost ashamed now not to have had sense enough to see that this arose from sheer awkwardness and stupidity on my part; from the absence of address, and a careless disregard of the rules of society, which necessarily induce a want of self-confidence, a bashful reserve, annoying to sensible people and certainly not compensated for by the possession of substantial acquirements, hidden, but not developed, and unavailable when wanted.  I find now that I can get into the good graces of any one with whom I associate better in half an hour than I could have done in a week two years ago.  I know no one who puts these matters in a better light than Lord Chesterfield in his Letters to his Son, which you most probably have read.

Since I wrote to you last, I have received some light on the subject of faith, which I was not at that time aware of.  In a discussion with a gentleman on religious matters, some remarks were made upon faith and charity, which led to an analysis of the original Greek word used to express the former by St. Paul, which has been translated “faith,” and is generally accepted in the ordinary sense we attach to that word in English; namely, an implicit trust in what you are told, without question or doubt.  But this friend of mine, who is a splendid Greek scholar, called my attention to the fact that the Greek word, for which we have no exact equivalent, means an openness to conviction, or a willingness to receive after proper proof; not a determination to believe without investigation.  He also pointed out to me what I was less prepared to hear, that the charity spoken of does not mean, as I supposed it to express, conscientiousness, but love and good fellowship, in action and speech; in fact, more in accordance with the sense in which the word is commonly understood.  This will show you the evil of coming to conclusions on insufficient data.  Depend upon it, you must always hear both sides of a story before you can get at the truth.