‘Oh, my Lord,’ quoth he, ’what I am I know not myself, nor whether my name be feigned or true, especially when I begin to think what some have said, and that is that this name was given me because Mr. Repentance was my father.  But good men have sometimes bad children, and the sincere do sometimes beget hypocrites.  My mother also called me by this name of mine from my cradle; but whether she said so because of the moistness of my brain, or because of the softness of my heart, I cannot tell.  I see dirt in mine own tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers.  But I pray Thee (and all this while the gentleman wept) that Thou wouldst not remember against us our transgressions, nor take offence at the unqualifiedness of Thy servants, but mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul, and refrain from the magnifying of Thy grace no longer.’  So at His bidding they arose, and both stood trembling before Him.

1.  ’His name, may it please your Majesty, is Wet-eyes, of the town of Mansoul.  I know, at the same time, that there are many of that name that are naught.’  Naught, that is, for this great enterprise now in hand.  And thus it was that Mr. Desires-awake in setting out for the Prince’s pavilion besought that Mr. Wet-eyes might go with him.  Mr. Desires-awake felt keenly how much might turn on who his companion was that day, and therefore he took Mr. Wet-eyes with him.  David would have made a most excellent associate for Mr. Desires-awake that day.  ’I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.’  And again, ’Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they keep not Thy law.’  This, then, was the only manner of man that Mr. Desires-awake would stake his life alongside of that day.  ’I have seen some persons weep for the loss of sixpence,’ said Mr. Desires-awake, ’or for the breaking of a glass, or at some trifling accident.  And they cannot pretend to have their tears valued at a bigger rate than they will confess their passion to be when they weep.  Some are vexed for the dirtying of their linen, or some such trifle, for which the least passion is too big an expense.  And thus it is that a man cannot tell his own heart simply by his tears, or the truth of his repentance by those short gusts of sorrow.’  Well, then, my brethren, tell me, Do you think that Mr. Desires-awake would have taken you that day to the pavilion door?  Would his head have been safe with you for his associate?  Your associates see many gusts in your heart.  Do they ever see your eyes red because of your sin?  Did you ever weep so much as one good tear-drop for pure sin?  One true tear:  not because your sins have found you out, but for secret sins that you know can never find you out in this world?  And, still better, do you ever weep in secret places not for sin, but for sinfulness—­which is a very different matter?  Do you ever weep to yourself and to God alone over your incurably wicked