Popish prelate, he must confess it to be a book, that would have done honour to the best archbishop, that the reformation has to boast of. O my God, how shall I unlock this mystery? In the land of darkness, over-run with superstition, where divine worship seems to be all shew and ceremony, thou hast those, who are fired with the pure love of thee, who renounce every thing for thee, who are devoted wholly to thee, who think of nothing, write of nothing, desire nothing but the honour, and praise, and adoration that is due to thee, and who call all the world to the maxims of the gospel, the perfection of the life of Christ. But in the regions where light is sprung up, whence superstition is fled, where all that is outward in religion seems to be pruned, dressed, and put in its true order; there a cleansed shell, a whited sepulchre, seems too generally to cover a dead Christianity. The error of all errors, and that which makes the blackest charge against the _Romish_ church, is persecution, a religious sword drawn against the liberty of serving God according to our best light. Now, tho’ this is the frightful monster of that church, yet, even here, who, except it be the church of _England_, can throw the first stone at her? Where must we look for a church that has so renounced this persecuting beast, as they have renounced the use of incense, the sprinklings of holy water, or extreme unction? What part of the reformation abroad has not practised and defended persecution? What sect of dissenters at home have not, in their day of power dreadfully condemned toleration?