of land and in every guinea they have. Our Lord says that
''tis hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.'"

For many days James Courtenay thus pondered and prayed, with Aggie as
his chief companion and instructor, and at length he was able to leave
his room. But he was a different James Courtenay from the one who had
entered that room some months before. The young squire was still pale
and thin; but this was not the chief change observable in him,--he was
silent and thoughtful in his manner, and gentle and kind to every one
around. The loud voice which once rang so imperiously and impatiently
through the corridors was now heard no more; the hand was not lifted to
strike, and often gratitude was expressed for any attention that was
shown. The servants looked at each other and wondered; they could
scarcely hope that such a change would last; and when their young master
returned to full health and strength, they quite expected the old state
of things to return again. But they were mistaken. The change in James
Courtenay was a real one; it was founded on something more substantial
than the transient feelings of illness,--he was changed _in his heart_.

And very soon he learnt by experience the happiness which true religion
brings with it. Instead of being served unwillingly by the servants
around, every one was anxious to please him; and he almost wondered at
times whether these could be the servants with whom he had lived all his
life. They now, indeed, gave a service of love; and a service of love is
as different from a service of mere duty as day is from night.

Wherever the young squire had most displayed his passionate temper,
there he made a point of going, for the sake of speaking kindly, and
undoing so far as he could the evil he had already done. He kept ever in
mind what he had heard from Jacob Dobbin in his dream,--that there was
not only a Saviour by whom alone he could be saved from his sins, but
also that there was a road on which it was necessary to walk; a road
which ran through daily life; a road on which loving deeds were to be
done, and loving words spoken;--the road of obedience to the mind of
Christ. James Courtenay well knew that obedience could not save him; but
he well knew also that obedience was required from such as were saved by
pure grace.

* * * * *

Altered as James Courtenay undoubtedly was, and earnest as he felt to
become different to what