procession I have wept abundantly, while my consorts, blind with
opposition and prejudice, have fallen into an excess of scorn and
laughter. There are, questionless, both in Greek, Roman, and African
churches, solemnities and ceremonies, whereof the wiser zeals do make a
Christian use, and stand condemned by us, not as evil in themselves, but
as allurements and baits of superstition to those vulgar heads that look
asquint on the face of truth, and those unstable judgments that cannot
consist in the narrow point and centre of virtue without a reel or
stagger to the circumference.

As for those wingy mysteries in divinity, and airy subtleties in
religion, which have unhinged the brains of better heads, they never
stretched the _pia mater_ of mine. Methinks there be not impossibilities
enough in religion for an active faith; the deepest mysteries ours
contains, have not only been illustrated, but maintained by syllogism,
and the rule of reason. I love to lose myself in a mystery, to pursue my
reason to an _O altitudo_! It is my solitary recreation to pose my
apprehension with those involved enigmas and riddles of the Trinity, with
incarnation and resurrection. I can answer all the objections of Satan
and my rebellious reason, with that odd resolution I learned of
Tertullian, _Certum est quia impossible est_. I desire to exercise my
faith in the difficultest point; for to credit ordinary and visible
objects, is not faith, but persuasion. Some believe the better for
seeing Christ's sepulchre; and when they have seen the Red Sea, doubt not
of the miracle. Now, contrarily, I bless myself, and am thankful that I
lived not in the days of miracles; that I never saw Christ nor His
disciples. I would not have been one of those Israelites that passed the
Red Sea, nor one of Christ's patients on whom He wrought His wonders;
then had my faith been thrust upon me, nor should I enjoy that greater
blessing pronounced to all that believe and saw not. It is an easy and