_Worthy._ Yet to make such a covetous prayer as this is hardly more wicked, or more absurd, than to lead the life of the covetous, by sinning up to the spirit of that very prayer which you would not have the courage to put into words. Still further observe how it would sound to confess your sins, and pray against them all, except one favorite sin. "Lord, do thou enable me to forsake all my sins, except the love of money;" "in this one thing pardon thy servant." Or, "Do thou enable me to forgive all who have injured me, except old Giles." This you will object against as a wicked prayer, it must be wicked in practice. It is even the more shocking to make it the language of the heart, or of the life, than of the lips. And yet, because you have been used to see people act thus, and have not been used to hear them pray thus, you are shocked at the one, and not shocked at the other. _Bragwell._ Shocked, indeed! Why, at this rate, you would teach one to hate one's self. _Worthy._ Hear me out, Mr. Bragwell; you turned your good nephew, Tom Broad, out of doors, you know; you owned to me it was an act of injustice. Now, suppose on the morning of your doing so you had begged of God, in a solemn act of prayer, to prosper the deed of cruelty and oppression, which you intended to commit that day. I see you are shocked at the thought of such a prayer. Well, then, would not hearty prayer have kept you from committing that wicked action? In short, what a life must that be, no act of which you dare beg God to prosper and bless? If once you can bring yourself to believe that it is your bounden duty to pray for God's blessing on your day's work, you will certainly grow careful about passing such a day as you may safely ask his blessing upon. The remark may be carried to sports, diversions, company. A man, who once takes up the serious use of prayer, will soon find himself obliged to abstain from such diversions, occupations, and societies, as he can not reasonably desire that God will bless to him; and thus he will see himself compelled to leave off either the practice or the prayer. Now, Mr. Bragwell, I need not ask you which of the two he that is a real Christian will give up, sinning or praying. Mr. Bragwell began to feel that he had not the best of the argument, and was afraid he was making no great figure in the eyes of his friend. Luckily, however, he was relieved from the difficulty into which the necessity of making some answer must have brought him, by finding they were come to the end of their little journey: and he never beheld the bunch of grapes, which decorated the sign of the Golden Lion, with more real satisfaction. I refer my readers for the transactions at the Golden Lion, and for the sad adventures which afterward befell Mr. Bragwell's family, to the fifth part of the History of the Two Wealthy Farmers. PART V. THE GOLDEN LION.