of a course of thought and action which shall plunge them into the lowest depths of error and corruption, where they will be shut out from every ray of light and truth, and whence it shall be morally impossible for them to rise again. And we may, on the other hand, imagine to ourselves a holy prudence, a determinate purpose in the righteous, which will nerve to that powerful grasp of faith that will never relax its hold upon life. To this ripeness of the faith, however, the careless and the unguarded can never come. It is the heritage of those only who have made 66 a covenant with their eyes," and "set a watch before the door of their lips." Unbelief is secretly introduced, but it is rapidly developed and matured. "While men sleep," "the enemy" soweth it. Like Jonah's gourd, it "cometh up in a night;" but, alas! not like it, to wither in the morning sun. In reference to it, well, then, may we hear and apply the warning of our Lord, "What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch." Would to God that, before taking leave of this subject, I could awaken the reader to a just estimate of the guilt and danger of this all-pervading principle-this "sin which doth so easily beset us." It is the worm that lieth at the root of all excellence; it is the canker that destroys all that is fair and lovely in hope. The first sin that stained and cursed the earth came through unbelief. It was thought that "God had said, but would not do it; that he had spoken, but would not make it good.' And it is not extravagant to suppose that it will be the last sin which will insult the Majesty of heaven, and be charged in the long catalogue of human crime. My reader! in the day when "the books shall be opened," may it not be found charged against us, for he against whom it is written" shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him" forever. CHAPTER VII. THE DIVIDED HEART. "Their heart is divided; now shall they be found faulty." "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me." HUMAN language, in its general structure, is highly figurative, and some of its boldest figures occur in the use of epithets. These, from their secondary and merely adjunctive character, avoid all suspicion of figure; and yet they involve some of the most spirited and most striking tropes to be found in the whole compass of language. In regard to mind and spirit, to mental and moral affections, the foundation of them all will be found in the ascrip tion to these of attributes belonging only to matter. Thus the epithets applied to the spiritual heart all refer primarily to the natural or fleshly heart, and wonderfully does the material here illustrate the immaterial part. A DIVIDED HEART is no uncommon expression. Its ordinary, import is as well understood as its use is familiar. Yet few analyze the expression, or consider its strength. Let us, then, trace it to its origin. Let us apply it, in the strictness of the letter, to the natural heart. Imagine that heart to be divided, severed, or rent in twain! What would either part be worth in the physical economy? Would it carry on the process of circulation? Could it even preserve the animal vitality? Would it be at all better to the man than if he had no heart? The answer to these questions is obvious; and the inference comes with force to the mind, of the utter worthlessness of a divided spiritual heart in the spiritual economy -of half a heart presented unto God; and we are, therefore, ready to admit that, when the heart is thus divided, men must be "found faulty." We see the reasonableness of the injunction, "My son, give me thy heart"-thy whole heart; and we are at no loss to discover why it should be the great commandment of the law, that we should "love the Lord our God with all our mind, and all our strength, and all our soul." The writer was in momentary doubt as to K the place in the work which this chapter of right should occupy. As the heart that has not been at all given unto God, but is unreservedly given to the world and to sin, cannot with propriety be said to be divided, the state contemplated must therefore belong either to the partially convinced, the almost Christian, or to the too worldly and almost backsliding believer. The phrase itself argues some degree of grace in the soul; either grace partially triumphant, struggling against still unconquered worldliness, or grace once dominant, but now on the wane, and in danger of defeat and expulsion. The state intended may, perhaps, be justly regarded as an unchristian state of the otherwise Christian soul. Its" faultiness" and dangerous tendency, therefore, fix its appropriate location here, rather than among the gracious states of the renewed heart. It might at first be imagined that of very necessity the heart must be divided; that it cannot be single and entire unto. God. Yet he has thus challenged it to himself; and as he never demands impossibilities, it becomes us to ascertain what constitutes the divided heart, so that we may reconcile, if possible, the entire dedication of the heart to God, with the full play and exercise of the social affections. This is the more important, because, on the one hand, some who profess to be Christians, from an imperfect apprehension of the exclu siveness of their spiritual dedication, "keep back a part" of that which rightly belongs unto God; while others, again, whose love to him is pure and ardent, needlessly distress themselves, lest their human affections, heavenimplanted, pure, well regulated, hallowed as they are, should conflict with the claims of God. The first point to be decided is, what constitutes that supreme love to God which he has challenged to himself, and how far this is exclusive of all other affections. The language of Scripture is seemingly express. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart. This seems all-engrossing-leaving no portion of the affections, or share of their exercise, for any other objects either in earth or heaven. And yet we dare not interpret the precept in this latitude, or carry it out practically in this full extent. There are qualifications of its meaning which are given by God himself, and to these we are bound to have respect. These qualifications are to be inferred from the tendencies of nature, and with greater certainty from the Book of inspiration. We are so constituted as to become strongly attached even to localities; for example, to the spot of our birth, the place of our early and most touching associations, and to objects of fortuitous or habitual familiar intercourse. There are within us a vast number of latent sympathies, |