"It is not my province, madam, to decide," replied Mr. Stanley. "'God,' as Bishop Sanderson says, 'reserves this _royalty_ to himself of being the searcher of hearts.' I can not judge how far he resists anger, nor what are his secret struggles against it. God, who expects not perfection, expects sincerity. Though complete, unmixed goodness is not to be attained in this imperfect state, yet the earnest desire after it is the only sure criterion of the sincerity we profess. If the man you allude to does not watch, and pray, and strive against the passion of anger, which is his natural infirmity, I should doubt whether any of his affections were really renewed; and I should fear that his charity was rather a mere habitual feeling, though a most amiable one, than a Christian grace. He indulges in charity, because it is a constitutional bias, and costs him nothing. He indulges in passion, because it is a natural bias also; and to set about a victory over it would cost him a great deal. This should put him on a strict self-examination; when he would probably find that, while he gives the uncontrolled reins to any one wrong inclination, his religion, even when he does right things, is questionable. True religion is seated in the heart; that is the centre from which all the lines of right practice must diverge. It is the great duty and chief business of a Christian to labor to make all his affections, with all their motives, tendencies, and operations, subservient to the word and will of God. His irregular passions, which are still apt to start out into disorder, will require vigilance to the end. He must not think all is safe, because the more tractable ones are not rebellious; but he may entertain a cheerful hope, when those which were once rebellious are become tractable." "I feel the importance of what you say," returned Lady Belfield; "but I feel also my utter inability to set about it." "My dear madam," said Mr. Stanley, "this is the best and most salutary feeling you can have. That very consciousness of insufficiency will, I trust, drive you to the fountain of all strength and power: it will quicken your faith, and animate your prayer; faith, which is the habitual principle of confidence in God; and prayer, which is the exercise of that principle toward him who is the object of it." "But Dr. Barlow," said Lady Belfield, "was so discouraging! He seemed to intimate, as if the conflict of a Christian with sin must be as lasting as his life; whereas, I had hoped that victory once obtained, was obtained forever."