ke up for it, never repair it as long as I
live."

For a moment more the kind hand again rested on the boy's head, and
gently smoothed his dark hair; and then Mr Paton found voice to speak,
and lifting him up, and seating him upon his knee, said to him--

"I forgive you, Walter, forgive you freely and gladly. It was hard, I
own, at first to do so, for I will not disguise from you that this loss
is a very bitter thing to bear. I have been sleepless, and have never
once been able to banish the distress of mind which it has caused since
it occurred. And yet it is a loss which I shall _not_ feel fully all at
once, but most and for many a long day when I sit down again, if God
gives me strength to do so, to recover the lost stores and rearrange the
interrupted thoughts. But I, too, have learnt a lesson, Walter; and
when you have reached my age, my boy, you too, I trust, will have learnt
to control all evil passions with a strong will, and to bear meekly and
patiently _whatever_ God sends. And you too, Walter, learn a lesson.
You have said that you would give anything, do anything, to undo this
wrong, or to repair it; but you can do nothing, my child, give nothing,
for it cannot be undone. Wrong rarely can be mended. Let this very
helplessness teach you a truth that may remain with you through life.
Let it check you in wilful impetuous moments; for what has once been
done remains irrevocable. You may rue for years and years the work of
days or of moments, and you may _never_ be able to avoid the
consequences, even when the deed itself has been forgotten by the
generous and forgiven by the just." And all this so kindly, so gently,
so quietly spoken; every word of it sank into Walter's heart never to be
forgotten, as his tears flowed still but with more quiet sadness now.

"Yes, Walter, this occurrence," continued Mr Paton in a calm, low
voice, "may do us both good, miserable as it is. I will say no more
about it now, only that I have quite forgiven it. Man is far too mean a
creature to be justified in withholding forgiveness for any personal
wrong. It is far more hard to forgive one's-self when one has done
wrong. I have determined to bury the whole matter in oblivion, and to
inflict no punishment either on you or on any of the other boys who were
concerned in this folly and sin. I will not forgive by halves. But,
Walter, I will not wrong you by doubting that from this time forward you
will advance with a mark