also shall he reap.  As a soldier warreth, so shall he hear it said to him, Well done.  And as a sinner keeps his heart with all diligence, and holds it fast till his King comes, so shall he hear it said to him, Thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things.  If thy sins, then, are left in thee to teach thee war, O poor saint of God, then take to thee the whole armour of God; thou knowest the pieces of it, and where the armoury is, and, having done all, stand!

4.  And dost thou know, O Mansoul, that it is all to try thy love also?  Now, how, just how, do the remainders of sin in the regenerate try their love?  Why, surely, in this way.  If we really loved sin at the deepest bottom of our hearts, and only loved holiness on the surface, would we not in our deepest hearts close with sin, give ourselves up to it, and make no stand at all against it?  Would we not in our deepest and most secret hearts welcome it, and embrace it, look out for it with desire and delight, and part with it with regret?  But if, as a matter of fact, we at our deepest and most hidden heart turn from sin, flee from it, fight against it, rejoice when we are rid of it, and have horror at the return of it,—­what better proof than that could Christ and His angels have that at bottom we are His and not the devil’s?  And that grace, at bottom, has our hearts, and not sin; heaven, and not hell?  The apostle’s protesting cry is our cry also; we also delight in the law of God after our most inward man.  For, after our saddest surprises into sin, after its worst outbreaks and overthrows, such all the time were our reluctances, recalcitrations, and resistances, that, swept away as we were, yet all the time, and after it was again over, it was with some good conscience that we said to Christ that He knew all things, and that He knew that we loved Him.

   ’O benefit of ill! now I find true
      That better is by evil still made better;
   And ruined love, when it is built anew,
      Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater,
   So I return rebuked to my content,
      And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.’

Yes; it is a sure and certain proof how truly we love our dearest friend, that, after all our envy and ill-will, yet it is as true as that God is in heaven that, all the time, maugre the devil of self that remains in our heart,—­after he has done his worst—­we would still pluck out our eyes for our friend and shed our blood.  I have no better proof to myself of the depth and the divineness of my love to my friend than just this, that I still love him and love him more tenderly and loyally, after having so treacherously hurt him.  And my heavenly friends and my earthly friends, if they will still have me, must both be content to go into the same bundle both of my remaining enmity and my increasing love; my remainders of sin, and my slow growth in regeneration.  So when they