And rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth Him of the evil.  It is the same with ourselves.  Tears move us.  Tears melt us.  We cannot resist tears.  Even counterfeit tears, we cannot be sure that they are not true.  And that is the main reason why our Lord is so good at speaking to a petition.  It is because His whole heart, and all the moving passions of His heart, are in His intercessory office.  It is because He still remembers in the skies His tears, His agonies, and cries.  It is because He is entered into the holiest with His own tears as well as with His own blood.  And it is because He will remain and abide before the Father the Man of Sorrows till our last petition is answered, and till God has wiped the last tear from our eyes.  When He was in the coasts of Caesarea-Philippi, our Lord felt a great curiosity to find out who the people thereabouts took Him to be.  And it must have touched His heart to be told that some men had insight enough to insist that He was the prophet Jeremiah come back again to weep over Jerusalem.  He is Elias, said some.  No; He is John the Baptist risen from the dead, said others.  No, no; said some men who saw deeper than their neighbours.  His head is waters, and His eyes are a fountain of tears.  Do you not see that He so often escapes into a lodge in the wilderness to weep for our sins?  No; He is neither John nor Elijah; He is Jeremiah come back again to weep over Jerusalem!  And even an apostle, looking back at the beginning of our Lord’s priesthood on earth, says that He was prepared for His office by prayers and supplications, and with strong crying and tears.  From all that, then, let us learn and lay to heart that if we would have one to speak well to our petitions, the Man of Sorrows is that one.  And then, as His remembrancers on our behalf, let us engage all those among our friends who have the same grace of tears.  But, above all, let us be men of tears ourselves.  For all the tears and all the intercessions of our great High Priest, and all the importunings of our best friends to boot, will avail us nothing if our own eyes are dry.  Let us, then, turn back to Bishop Andrewes’s prayer for the grace of tears, and offer it every night with him till our head, like his, is holy waters, and till, like him, we get beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

4.  ‘Clear as tears’ is a Persian proverb when they would praise their purest spring water.  But Mr. Wet-eyes has from henceforth spoiled the point of that proverb for us.  ‘I see,’ he said, ’dirt in mine own tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers.’  Mr. Wet-eyes is hopeless.  Mr. Wet-eyes is intolerable.  Mr. Wet-eyes would weary out the patience of a saint.  There is no satisfying or pacifying or ever pleasing this morbose Mr. Wet-eyes.  The man is absolutely