with food convenient for me: Lest I be full and deny Thee, and say,
Who is the Lord? Or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name
of my God in vain.'

But although these errors of reaction are less common than the
primary vulgar errors, they are better worth noticing: inasmuch as
in many cases they are the errors of the well-intentioned. People
fall into the primary vulgar errors without ever thinking of right
or wrong: merely feeling an impulse to go there, or to think thus.
But worthy folk, for the most part, fall into the secondary vulgar
errors, while honestly endeavouring to escape what they have
discerned to be wrong. Not indeed that it is always in good faith
that men run to the opposite extreme. Sometimes they do it in pet
and perversity, being well aware that they are doing wrong. You hint
to some young friend, to whom you are nearly enough related to be
justified in doing so, that the dinner to which he has invited you,
with several others, is unnecessarily fine, is somewhat extravagant,
is beyond what he can afford. The young friend asks you back in
a week or two, and sets before you a feast of salt herrings and
potatoes. Now the fellow did not run into this extreme with the
honest intention of doing right. He knew perfectly well that this
was not what you meant. He did not go through this piece of folly
in the sincere desire to avoid the other error of extravagance. Or,
you are a country clergyman. You are annoyed, Sunday by Sunday, by
a village lad who, from enthusiasm or ostentation, sings so loud
in church as to disturb the whole congregation. You hint to him,
as kindly as you can, that there is something very pleasing about
the softer tones of his voice, and that you would like to hear
them more frequently. But the lad sees through your civil way of
putting the case. His vanity is touched. He sees you mean that you