It was the custom in that school for the master, who was a good and wise man, to mark down in his pocketbook all the events of the week, that he might turn them to some account in his Sunday evening instructions:  such as any useful story in the newspaper, any account of boys being drowned as they were out in a pleasure-boat on Sundays, any sudden death in the parish, or any other remarkable visitation of Providence; insomuch, that many young people in the place, who did not belong to the school, and many parents, also, used to drop in for an hour on a Sunday evening, when they were sure to hear something profitable.  The minister greatly approved this practice, and often called in himself, which was a great support to the master, and encouragement to the people.

The master had taken a deep concern in the story of widow Brown’s apple-tree.  He could not believe Tom Price was guilty, nor dared he pronounce him innocent; but he resolved to turn the instructions of the present evening to this subject.  He began thus:  “My dear boys, however light some of you may make of robbing an orchard, yet I have often told you there is no such thing as a little sin, if it be wilful or habitual.  I wish now to explain to you, also, that there is hardly such a thing as a single solitary sin.  You know I teach you not merely to repeat the commandments as an exercise for your memory, but as a rule for your conduct.  If you were to come here on a Sunday only to learn to read and spell, I should think that was not employing God’s day for God’s work; but I teach you to read, that you may, by this means, so understand the Bible and the catechism, as to make every text in the one, and every question and answer in the other, to be so fixed in your hearts, that they may bring forth the fruits of good living.”

Master.  “How many commandments are there?”

Boy.  “Ten.”

Master.  “How many did that boy break who stole widow Brown’s apples?”

Boy.  “Only one, master; the eighth.”

Master.  “What is the eighth?”

Boy.  “Thou shalt not steal.”

Master.  “And you are very sure that this was the only one he broke?  Now, suppose I could prove to you that he probably broke, not less than six out of those ten commandments, which the great Lord of heaven himself stooped down from his eternal glory to deliver to men, would you not then think it a terrible thing to steal, whether apples or guineas?”

Boy.  “Yes, master.”

Master.  “I will put the case.  Some wicked boy has robbed widow Brown’s orchard.”  Here the eyes of every one were turned on poor Tom Price, except those of Dick Giles, who fixed his on the ground.  “I accuse no one,” continued the master; “Tom Price is a good boy, and was not missing at the time of the robbery:  these are two reasons why I presume he is innocent; but whoever it was, you allow that by stealing these apples he broke the eighth commandment?”