This scene interested me, and called my thoughts away from myself. I sat by the side of the young man, looking intently upon his pale face. In a short time he opened his eyes, and saw me looking at him. He started a little, and then said--“What do you look at me so for?” “I hardly know,” said I, “except that you are sick. Can I aid you--can I do anything for you?” “No--no,” replied he: “no--and yet you can. Come near; I am very feeble and cannot talk loud. What brought you here? You do not talk like one of us?” I here told the young man my story, very briefly. At first he seemed to doubt my veracity--but he soon dismissed his suspicions, and went on as follows: “You think that your misfortunes are the result of an imperfect education, and the want of the care, teaching, and protection of parents. My story will show you that all these advantages may be thrown away, if the heart is wrong. My story will tell you _the dangers that lie in the first fault_! “My parents were respectable and religious people. They took great pains with my education, for I was their only child. They not only sent me to school, and provided me with good books, but they gave me good advice, required me to go to church, and took care that I should not fall into evil company. It was impossible not to love such parents, and therefore I entertained for them the strongest affection. I also placed the most perfect confidence in them: I told them all my wishes, and if reasonable, they were granted; I told them my troubles, and then was sure to receive sympathy, and, if possible, relief. “But this happy state of things did not continue. One of my companions had a watch, which he wished to sell for ten dollars. It was very pretty, and I desired exceedingly to possess it. I asked my father for ten dollars to buy it; but he thought it an idle expense, and refused. I then went to my mother, and tried to get her to persuade my father to buy the watch for me; but this was unavailing. “About this time, I saw a ten dollar bill, lying, as if left by some accident, in one of my father’s desk drawers. The thought of taking it, came suddenly into my mind. I took it and put it into my pocket, and went away. It was the first thing of the kind I had ever done, but a first step in guilt once taken, others soon become matters of course. I had no great fear of detection, for I believed that the bill would not be missed, and if it were, no one was likely to suspect _me_ of taking it. The money was soon missed, however, and some inquiry was made about it. I was asked if I had seen it: to which I answered, ‘No!’ This lie, the first I had ever told, was the direct consequence of my first fault.