philosophy--in our modern sense of the word--was to him only a species
of word spinning. That only was valuable which had a practical bearing
on life--and Christianity had that. He found in Christianity, as he knew
it--in the Church of England, that is to say--an excellent organization,
which recognized the frailties of human nature, aimed at making
healthier men's souls, and gave mankind a reasonable guidance in the
selection of the best motives to action. He himself, as a preacher, made
it his principal business, "first to tell the people what is their duty,
and then to convince them that it is so." He had a profound faith in
existing institutions, which to him were founded on the fundamental
traits of humanity. The Church of England he considered to be such an
institution; and it was, moreover, regulated and settled by order of the
State. To follow its teachings would lead men to become good citizens,
honest dealers, truthful and cleanly companions, upright friends. What
more could be demanded of any religion?

The Romish Church led away from the Constitution as by law established.
Dissent set up private authority, which could no more be permitted in
religious than it was in political matters; it meant dissension,
revolution, and the upheaval of tried and trusted associations.
Therefore, the Church of Rome and the teachings of Dissent were alike
dangerous; and against both, whenever they attempted the possession of
political power, he waged a fierce and uncompromising war. "Where sects
are tolerated in a State," he says, in his "Sentiments of a Church of
England Man," "it is fit they should enjoy a full liberty of conscience,
and every other privilege of free-born subjects, to which no power is
annexed. And to preserve their obedience upon all emergencies, a
government cannot give them too much ease, nor trust them with too
little power."