Tertullian, Prescription against Heretics 41

I will not skip a description of their heretical way of life either—how futile, how earthly, how merely human it is, lacking gravity, authority, and discipline, so that it matches their faith. For a start, no one can tell who is a catechumen and who is a believer; they all approach together, listen together, pray together. Even if pagans show up, they will throw what is holy to dogs and pearls to pigs—though the pearls are not genuine (Matt 7:6). They want simplicity to count as the demolition of discipline, yet in our ranks they call the care of that discipline mere leniency. They also mix peace indiscriminately with everyone; nothing matters to them, even when they handle different things, as long as they conspire to overthrow the one truth. All of them are puffed up, all of them promise knowledge. Catechumens count as perfect before they are taught. Their women—how shameless they are! They dare to teach, to argue, to perform exorcisms, to promise cures, and perhaps even to baptize. Their ordinations are reckless, flimsy, and inconstant: today they install a neophyte, tomorrow a man still bound to the world, the next day one of our own apostates, so that glory may bind them, since truth cannot. Nowhere is promotion easier than in the rebel camp, where simply being there counts as merit. So one man is bishop today, another tomorrow; today a deacon, tomorrow a lector; today a presbyter, tomorrow a layman—for they even impose priestly duties on laypeople.