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WALTER’S ALLEY. 67

Henry Mertoun was the favourite, among
his schoolfellows, for the first prize, both
in classics and cyphering. If Dr. Young
should hear of an offence so grave as a
midnight attempt to steal fruit, all chance
of a prize, he well knew, was at an end ;
for, however regular or diligent a boy
might be, an act of dishonesty was con-
sidered sufficient to exclude him from
all hope of reward. “ You have got the
highest marks in your class,” he had said,
at Christmas, to a clever boy whom he
had detected in a falsehood; “but I can-
not give you the prize. Diligence and
great talents may be turned to evil as
well as good account; unless they are
accompanied by straightforwardness and
honesty, I will never encourage them.”
This was the very reflection that should
have led Mertoun, at all hazards, to tell