Logic is a large drawer, containing some useful instruments, and many more that are superfluous. A wise man will look into it for two purposes, to avail himself of those instruments that are really useful, and to admire the ingenuity with which those that are not so, are assorted and arranged.

Charles Caleb Colton (1780–1832), an English cleric-turned-writer, is best known for his aphoristic collection *Lacon; or, Many Things in Few Words* (1820–1822). The remark about logic as a “large drawer” fits Colton’s characteristic stance: skeptical of pedantry and systems, yet appreciative of intellectual craftsmanship. In the early nineteenth century, “logic” often meant not only practical reasoning but also formal scholastic apparatus taught in universities and used in theology and law. Colton’s epigrams frequently contrast worldly wisdom with academic display, suggesting this line was written as a general observation for readers navigating the era’s taste for method, classification, and argumentative technique.

Colton treats logic as a toolbox: it contains genuinely helpful instruments for clear thinking, but also many elaborate devices that add little to real understanding. The “wise man” uses logic pragmatically—selecting what aids judgment—while also recognizing the aesthetic or intellectual ingenuity of over-refined systems. The second purpose (“to admire the ingenuity…”) is faint praise: it implies that much formal logic is more impressive as an exercise in arrangement than as a guide to life. The aphorism thus balances respect for disciplined reasoning with a warning against mistaking technical sophistication for practical wisdom.