Error is a hardy plant; it flourisheth in every soil;
In the heart of the wise and good, alike with the wicked and foolish.
For there is no error so crooked, but it hath in it some lines of truth:
Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some wholesome use:
And the just man, enamoured of the right, is blinded by the speciousness of wrong;
And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is content to overlook the harm.
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God,
Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption:
And if error cometh in like a flood, it mixeth with streams of truth;
And the Adversary loveth to have it so, for thereby many are decoyed.