_Had_ he indeed opened and revealed his _whole_ heart? and if so, what had induced him, with his proud reserve, to be so communicative? Reader, had Raymond Withers spoken what we have heard him speak, _two weeks before_, it would have been “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing _but_ the truth;” _now_, however, in the recesses of his bosom lurked a sentiment as yet revealed in words to no one, as yet unrecognised by himself; _but_ yet a sentiment that was growing stronger day by day, that was already beginning to betray itself in unguarded moments. I repeat it, jealousy seldom prevents, frequently suggests the very infidelity it fears. It has been said that “Unjust suspicion is apt to lead to that which is well founded. It is often very dangerous to hint an evil, though to warn against it: for constant suspicion of harm puts an idea into the head that otherwise might never have occurred; and this idea once fairly in is not so easily got out. Thus it is that unjust jealousy gives rise to real unfaithfulness. Can there be a stronger argument against too ready suspicion?”[7] Footnote 7: Ramsay on Human Happiness. Poor Hagar! through her besetting sin, through her unjust suspicion, she had kept the evil before his eyes until he had grown familiar with it. This was the more dangerous, not only from his peculiar temperament, and from the extreme beauty, grace, tenderness, and artlessness of the rival she dreaded; but also from the fact of their isolation from the moderating and correcting influence of general society. But incited by a vague consciousness of this scarcely acknowledged sentiment, he had opened his heart to Hagar, exposing “almost” _all_ its secrets, and now could she have continued to trust him, _her_ faith might have saved his fidelity—could she have _continued_ to trust him! but she could not—her waylaying sin could not be so promptly driven away for ever. Could an evil thought be dismissed, a guilty wish repressed, or a sinful passion crushed by one effort of the will, by one fell blow, many a moral victory we should see, many a moral hero hail, and the road to perdition be no longer paved with good intentions; but when blow after blow has been struck upon the waylaying foe, when after each repulsion it has retired only to rest, to gather force, to renew the attack, nothing but the highest moral courage and perseverance can keep up the warfare, can insure the victory. Hagar’s waylaying foe had only been beaten back for a time; a few days passed and it returned in power, in ferocity, with violence; for _now_ Hagar’s doubts of her husband’s fidelity of heart were becoming but too reasonable!