al power from the text, "Provide
things honest in the sight of all men." It was a frank, faithful
address, in which he sought to speak the truth in tenderness, and yet
with direct application to his hearers. If any among them were
disbelievers in the doctrine that honesty is the best policy, and acted
accordingly, they could hardly hope to dodge the arrows of argument and
appeal shot forth from the pulpit that evening.

Bert was one of the first to be transfixed. When the text was announced
he wriggled a bit, as though it pricked him somewhere; but when, further
on, Dr. Chrystal spoke in plain terms of the dishonesty of false
pretences, of claiming to be what you really are not, of seeking credit
for what is not actually your own work, Bert's head sank lower and
lower, his cheeks burned with shame, and, feeling that the speaker must
in some mysterious way have divined his guilty secret, and be preaching
directly at him, he sank back in his seat, and wished with wild longing
that he could run away from those flashing eyes that seemed to be
looking right through him, and from the sound of that clear, strong
voice, whose every tone went straight to his heart.

But, of course, there was no escape, and he had to listen to the sermon
to the end, although, had it been possible, he would gladly have thrust
his fingers in his ears that he might hear no more. He felt immensely
relieved when the service was over, and he could go out into the cool,
dark evening air. He was very silent as he walked home with his parents,
and so soon as prayers were over went off to his room, saying that he
was tired.

For the next few days there was not a more miserable boy in Halifax than
Cuthbert Lloyd. He was a prey to contending feelings that gave him not
one moment's peace. His better nature said, "Be manly, and confess." The
tempter whispered, "Be wise, and keep it to yourself." As for the cause
of all this trouble, it lay untouched in the bottom drawer of his
bureau. He could not bear to look at it, and he worked out his Sallust
as best he could, causing Dr. Johnston much surprise by the unexpected
mistakes he made in translating. He became so quiet and sober that his
mother grew quite concerned, and asked him more than once if he felt
ill, to which, with a pretence of a laugh, he replied:

"Not a bit of it. I'm all right."

But he wasn't all right, by any means, as his father's keen eyes soon
discovered. Mr. Lloyd, like his wife, though