had in plundering his poor neighbour of his moss-rose,--and see how
Satan cheats in his promises of enjoyment from sin.

Dear young reader! let not Satan persuade you that there is any profit
in sin--momentary pleasure there may indeed be, but it is soon gone, and
then come sorrow and distress. Sin is a sweet cup with bitter dregs, and
he who drinks the little sweet that there is, must drink the dregs also.
Moments of sin may cause years of sorrow.

* * * * *

For many days James Courtenay hung between life and death; night and
day he was watched by skilful physicians, but they could do very little
more than let the disease run its course. At length a change for the
better appeared; the unhappy boy fell into a long sleep, and when he
opened his eyes his disease was gone. But it had left him in a truly
pitiable state. It was a sad sight to see the once robust boy now very
little better than a skeleton; to hear the once loud voice now no
stronger than a mere whisper; and instead of the mass of brown curly
hair, to behold nothing but linen rags which swathed the shaven head.

But all this Squire Courtenay did not so much mind; his son's life was
spared, and he made no doubt but that care and attention would soon
fatten him up again, and the curly locks would grow as luxuriantly as
they did before. Old Aggie, too, was full of joy; the boy that she had
nursed so tenderly, and for whom she had had such long anxiety, was not
cut off in the midst of his sins, and he might perhaps have his heart
changed and grow up to be a good man. And what an opportunity was this
for trying to impress his mind! Old Aggie was determined that it should
not be lost, and she hoped that the young squire might yet prove a
blessing, and not a curse, to those amongst whom he lived.

There were not wanting many upon Squire Courtenay's estate who would
have been very glad if the young squire had never recovered. They had
tasted a little of his bad character, and they feared that if he grew up
to inherit the property, he would prove a tyrannical landlord to them.
But amongst these was not to be reckoned old Leonard Dobbin. True, he
had suffered terribly--indeed more than any one else--from James
Courtenay's evil ways; but he did not on that account wish him dead--far
from it. It was old Leonard's great fear lest the young squire should
die in his sins, and no one asked more earnestly about the invalid than
this good old