t
thou well to be angry? I answer, I do well. _Thou shalt not steal_
is a law of God, and this fellow has broken that law. Ay, but says
conscience, 'tis _thy own property_ which is in question. He has
broken _thy_ hedge, he has stolen _thy_ sheep, he has taken _thy_
purse. Art thou therefore sure whether it is his violation of thy
property, or of God's law which provokes thee? I will put a second
case: I hear another swear most grievously; or I meet him coming
drunk out of an ale-house; or I find him singing a loose, profane
song. If I am not as much grieved for this blasphemer, or this
drunkard, as I was for this robber; if I do not take the same pains
to bring him to a sense of his sin, which I did to bring the robber
to justice, "how dwelleth the love of God in me?" Is it not clear
that I value my own sheep more than God's commandments? That I prize
my purse more than I love my Maker? In short, whenever I find out
that I am more jealous for my own property than for God's law; more
careful about my own reputation than _his_ honor, I always suspect I
have got upon wrong ground, and that even my right actions are not
proceeding from a right principle.

_Bragwell._ Why, what in the world would you have me do? It would
distract me, if I must run up every little action to its spring, in
this manner.

_Worthy._ You must confess that your sins _are_ sins. You must not
merely call them sins, while you see no guilt in them; but you must
confess them so as to hate and detest them; so as to be habitually
humbled under the sense of them; so as to trust for salvation not in
your freedom from them, but in the mercy of a Saviour; and so as to
make it the chief business of your life to contend against them, and
in the main to forsake them. And remember, that if you seek for a
deceitful gayety, rather than a well-grounded cheerfulness; if you
prefer a false security to final safety, and now go away to your
cattle and your farm, and dismiss the subject from your thoughts,
lest it should make you uneasy, I am not sure that this simple
discourse may not appear against you at the day of account, as a
fresh proof that you "loved darkness rather than light," and so
increase your condemnation.

Mr. Bragwell was more affected than he cared to own. He went to bed
with less spirits and more humility than usual. He did not, however,
care to let Mr. Worthy see the impression which it had made upon
him; but at parting next morning, he shook h