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Updated: May 13, 2025
The young nobleman of the millions was watched; the town spyglass had him in its orbit. Tales of the ancestral Fleetwoods ran beside rumours of a Papist priest at the bedside of the Foredoomed to Error's dying mother. His wealth was counted, multiplied by the ready naughts of those who know little and dread much.
"'God help the man so wrapt in error's endless maze! "when, suddenly brightening up his placid countenance, like one that had found out a riddle, and looked to have the solution admired, "'At last, said he, 'I advised him' "Here he paused, and here we were again interminably thrown back. By no possible guess could any of us aim at the drift of the meaning he was about to be delivered of.
Go, weep in secret Leave me in error's maze but never, never, Behold me more: I will not look again On thee, nor on thy mother. Oh! how passion Laid bare her secret heart! She never loved me! She mourned her best-loved son that was her cry Of grief and naught was mine but show of fondness!
Therefore, as the presbytery testify and remonstrate against them, their toleration, or indulgence footing, on which they professedly stand, together with their poisonous jumble and medley of errors, commonly called Newlight, adopted, and with the greatest warmth and diligence, spread and propagated by most of them, and connived at and tolerated by the rest and all their books or prints written by them, or others of the like spirit with them in defense of these dangerous and damnable tenets so they do hereby judicially warn and exhort all the people under their inspection there, to beware of such men, and such books, however they may varnish over the doctrines they bring, with fine words fair speeches and pretenses, in order to deceive the hearts of the simple; and this, as they would not incur the displeasure of a holy and jealous God, and have their souls defiled and destroyed by these error's.
It was some heathenish 'land in error's chain, as the missionary hymn says. I was so worried over losing the letter on account of the address, for he did seem so bent on hearing from us, and he's a nice boy. I'd hate to loose track of him. So I'm mighty thankful you found the pouch." She stopped, expecting them to hand it over. Mr. Milford made the necessary explanation.
"From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand. From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain." Those are beautiful verses, and they have remained in my memory all my life.
He will not blame me, He who sends not peace, But sends a sword, and bids us strike amain At Error's gilded crest, where in the van Of earth's great army, mingling with the best And bravest of its leaders, shouting loud The battle-cries that yesterday have led The host of Truth to victory, but to-day Are watchwords of the laggard and the slave, He leads his dazzled cohorts.
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