“A gentleman was riding in the cars, one evening, when a newsboy passed through the train, and he purchased a paper, giving the boy by mistake a gold eagle instead of a cent.  The boy noticed the mistake, but said nothing about it.  Albert, you may tell me what you think of that boy’s conduct.”

“It was dishonest,” replied Albert; “because he knew that the money did not belong to him, and yet he kept it.”

“But did not a part of the blame belong to the man who made the mistake?” inquired the teacher.

Albert, after thinking a moment, replied: 

“He was to blame for his carelessness, but not for the boy’s dishonesty.”

“You are right,” said the teacher.  “The boy was guilty of stealing, just as much as if he had picked the man’s pocket, or broken into his house.  But suppose, instead of the mistake being to the amount of ten dollars, it had only been a few cents,—­how then?”

“It would have been just the same,” replied the boy.

“But what if the man was very rich, and would never feel the loss, while the boy was poor, and needed the money?”

“That would have made no difference,” replied Albert.

“Very good,” continued the teacher; “when an honest man discovers a mistake in his own favor, he always hastens to rectify it.  He will receive only what he is entitled to.  Robert,” he added, addressing an other pupil, “how is it with regard to lost articles?”

“When we find anything that has been lost,” replied the boy addressed, “we should try to ascertain the owner, and return the article to him.”

“Is there any guilt in neglecting to do this?”

“Yes, sir, it is a kind of dishonesty.”

“You are right,” added the teacher; “the courts often punish men for this very offence, for it is a species of theft.  And how of borrowing articles, and neglecting to return them,—­is that honest?”

“It is not,” replied Robert.

“Oscar,” continued the teacher, “you may give your opinion of this case:  suppose one of your acquaintances wants a certain article belonging to you, and by way of barter, offers you a finger-ring for it.  You take it for granted that the ring is gold, but a week or two after the bargain is concluded, you discover that it is of brass, and of no value what ever.  The other boy knew all the while it was brass, and also knew you supposed it was gold.  What should you say of such a transaction?  Was it honest?”

Oscar turned red, and looked confused, as this question was put to him.  It was a minute or two before he made any reply, and then he said, in a hesitating manner: 

“If the other boy did n’t tell me it was gold, I don’t see as he was to blame.”

“But we will suppose there was no need of his telling you so,” added the master; “we will suppose he managed the bargain so adroitly, that you never suspected he was not dealing fairly with you.  In that case, should you think he had acted honestly towards you?”