The pessimising and desponding tone of the Tory Foreign Minister's correspondence, in the early part of 1859, can hardly be read without a shudder.
It may be a tree, bride, that rubs his arms acrosswise […]
sacred service
Beside these, there is another sort of men desirous of aduantage, and disdainefull of our wealth, whose greefe is most our greatest hap, and be offended with religion, bicause they be drowned in superstition, men zealed toward God, but not fit to judge...
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