tention, your service, he must have, but your daily, hourly thoughts, your dreams, your feelings, let them all be of me-of mine." Stripped of its subtleties, this is the language of the bramble that would be our king, and in the end fire comes out of it to destroy us; yes, and itself too. Had we the history of all the attachments that, since the human heart began to beat, have either "been violently destroyed, or have silently gone out of mind," the majority of disappointments might be traced to this self-consuming property of emotion. It is thus, that even in their formation, so many friendships, otherwise valuable and rightly placed, contain within themselves the elements of their own destruction. Setting aside Christian principle, self-interest requires a subordination of the heart to the understanding, for daily experience proves that regulated feeling can alone be lasting feeling. But on this point, and on the external evils arising from overindulged affection, I need say little; in characters like yours, they will be less apparent and influential. Perhaps it is not fair to in

quire whether your peculiar duties, although connected with mental cultivation, are quite as interesting as they were? Whether the companions that suited and satisfied you before, suit and satisfy you quite as well now? Whether no reveries, no sweet, but in reality idle memories, intrude upon graver studies? Whether this new language of the heart has not somewhat spoiled your taste for other languages, dead and living? To ask these questions is not quite fair, because native good sense and Christian conscientiousness have counteracted what, in a weaker or more impetuous character, would manifest itself in outward dereliction of duty. I believe that such has not been your case; and your friend may thank you for this proof of regard. I believe that you have exerted all your former application, though to exert it has required more than a former effort. Deeper and less tangible, are the consequences of engrossing emotion in a temperament like your own. Hidden, noiseless, and unsuspected by man, therefore by man unreproved, yet beware, yet watch, yet be

very jealous, lest he who sets " our secret sins in the light of his countenance" condemn you for idolatry. To another I might. use a thousand arguments, but to you, as I began so would I close with one-fear lest it induce Christian declension.

My dearest

wish there were,

66

there is not as you

a royal road to subdue overpowering emotion :" here, as in every other duty, we must walk in " the narrow way" of self-denial, holy resolution, vigilant watchfulness, and earnest prayer. We may, however, find great advantage in studying those passages of Scripture, which most emphatically declare God's right to the first place in the heart of man, and man's incalculable and innumerable obligations to surrender it. We should, moreover, contrast in every possible way, the rival claimants for our supreme love-the creature and Christ; the broken reed and the sure foundation; the empty cistern, and the ever-springing well; the deceived and the deceiver, and he who is the truth and the life-he who is faithful and everlasting he who is ever-present-he who

has all power-he who gave his life to prove his love, and now lives to render that love efficacious! These are the contemplations wherewith to fetch a vain heart back from its wanderings; these are the cords that must bind the sacrifice to the altar, so strongly, that it shall not dare, so sweetly, that it shall not desire to move. The blessing of him who "strengtheneth the spoiled against the strong," who is "able by his mighty working to subdue all things unto himself," even the wild desires and rebel feelings of the human heart; the blessing of him who says by his Spirit "let your moderation be known unto all men;" who promises his glory to those only who "overcome," to the patient runners in the Christian race, to the faithful combatants in that'hidden strife accomplished between the flesh and the spirit; the blessing of him whose nature, name, life, being, death, were love, be with you, dearest girl, at once as a sanctifying and stimulating influence. Call me not, think me not unkind, because I reason with you thus calmly. Alas! it has been

for my own benefit, even more than yours, that I have written thus fully. I always find it good to exhort others, for in so doing I exhort myself, and I feel that I need exhortation. O false human heart! yielding as water to the world, insensible as adamant to the voice of God! frail as a bubble, wandering as a silly bird! O seductive, treacherous world! where the loveliest flower enfolds a canker-worm, the sweetest feelings grow surrounded by thorns, and the best blessings either induce sin, or conceal a snare! O glorious state, and coming time! wherein all evil shall be done away, and all good perfected! where the intensity of human emotion shall no longer interfere with the bright serenity of holy love, but both be conjoined in one inexplicable bond! where myriads shall be loved, as now we love our friends; and friends be loved, as now we ought to love our God; and God be loved, and admired, and worshipped, and understood, and delighted in, with a reverence and a rapture, an affinity and a comprehension, with human sentiment purified, and