And
detraction,--how some men's ink-horns are filled with detraction for ink,
and how it drops from their tongue like poison! At their every word a
reputation dies. Life and all its opportunities of doing good and having
good done to us is laid like a bag of treasure at our feet, but, like the
prodigal son in the Interpreter's House, with all those passions raging
in our own hearts at other men, and in other men's hearts at us, we have
soon nothing left us but rags. God be thanked for every man here who
sees and feels that he has nothing left him but rags; and, still more,
thanks for all those who see and feel how, by their bad passions, sensual
and spiritual, they have left on other people nothing but rags.
Now, from all this let us lay it to heart that our sanctification and
salvation lie in our mastery over all these and over many other passions
that have not even been named. He is an accepted saint of God, who,
taking his and other people's rags to God's mercy every day, every day
also in God's strength grapples with, bridles, and tames his own wild and
ungodly passions.
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