On Monday 9 Jan 1738, and the following days, I reflected much on that vain desire which had pursued me for so many years, of being in solitude in order to be a Christian. I have now, thought I, solitude enough. But am I therefore the nearer being a Christian? Not if Jesus Christ be the model of Christianity. I doubt indeed I am much nearer that mystery of Satan which some writers affect to call by that name. So near that I had probably sunk wholly into it had not the great mercy of God just now thrown me upon reading St. Cyprian’s Works. ‘O my soul, come not thou into their secret!’ ‘Stand thou in the good old paths.’