What's the use of a government, if, the next day after you have received it, you are obliged for very shame to scurry off to it with the hoot of every honest man sounding in your ears?
"Lightly liar leaped and away ran." -- PIERS PLOWMAN.
But bigotry, it has been said, makes the author write against Popery; and thorough-going bigotry, indeed, will make a person say or do anything.
But the writer is a very pretty bigot truly! Where will the public find traces of bigotry in anything he has written?
He has written against Rome with all his heart, with all his mind, with all his soul, and with all his strength; but as a person may be quite honest and speak and write against Rome in like manner he may speak and write against her and be quite free from bigotry; though it is impossible for any one but a bigot or a bad man to write or speak in her praise; her doctrines, actions, and machinations being what they are.
Bigotry! The author was born, and has always continued, in the wrong church for bigotry, the quiet, unpretending Church of England; a church which, had it been a bigoted church, and not long-suffering almost to a fault, might with its opportunities, as the priest says in the text, have stood in a very different position from that which it occupies at present.

No! let those who are in search of bigotry seek for it in a church very different from the inoffensive Church of England, which never encourages cruelty or calumny.

Let them seek for it amongst the members of the Church of Rome, and more especially amongst those who have renegaded to it.

There is nothing, however false and horrible, which a pervert to Rome will not say for his church, and which his priests will not encourage him in saying; and there is nothing, however horrible--the more horrible indeed and revolting to human nature, the more eager he would be to do it--which he will not do for it, and which his priests will not encourage him in doing.
Of the readiness which converts to Popery exhibit to sacrifice all the ties of blood and affection on the shrine of their newly-adopted religion there is a curious illustration in the work of Luigi Pulci.

This man, who was born at Florence in the year 1432, and who was deeply versed in the Bible, composed a poem, called the "Morgante Maggiore," which he recited at the table of Lorenzo de Medici, the great patron of Italian genius.