Mr. Badcock coughed. "Oh, sir," he protested, "I couldn't! I reelly couldn't. You'll excuse me, but I hold very strong opinions on unlicensed preaching." He hesitated; then suddenly his brow cleared. "But I can read you one, sir. Reading one is altogether another matter."
"You have a book of sermons on board?"
"Before starting, sir, happening to cast my eye over the book-case in the bedroom . . . a volume of Dr. South's, sir, if you'll excuse my liberty in borrowing it."
He ran and fetched the volume, while we disposed ourselves to listen.
"Where shall I begin, sir?"
"Wherever you please. The book belongs to my brother Gervase.
For myself I have not even a bowing acquaintance with the good
Doctor."
"The first sermon, sir, is upon Human Perfection."
"It should have been the last, surely?"
"Not so, sir; for it starts with Adam in the Garden of Eden."
"Let us hear, then."