Badcock drew
breath.

"A fine fiddlestick, sir!" quoth my father. "The man is talking
largely on matters of which he can know nothing; and in five minutes
(I bet you) he will come a cropper."

Mr. Badcock resumed--

"For the understanding speculative there are some general maxims
and notions in the mind of man, which are the rules of
discourse and the basis of all philosophy."

"As, for instance, never to beg the question," snapped my father, who
from this point let scarce a sentence pass without pishing and
pshawing.

"Now it was Adam's happiness in the state of innocence to have
these clear and unsullied. He came into the world a
philosopher--"

("Instead of which he went and ate an apple.")

"He could see consequents yet dormant in their principles, and
effects yet unborn and in the womb of their causes."

("'Tis a pity, then, he took not the trouble to warn Eve.")

"His understanding could almost pierce to future contingencies.
. . ."

("Ay, 'almost.' The fellow begins to scent mischief, and thinks to
set himself right with a saving clause. Why 'almost'?" )

"his conjectures improving even to prophecy, or to certainties
of prediction. Till his fall he was ignorant of nothing but
sin; or, at least, it rested in the notion without the smart of
the experiment."

My father stamped the butt of his musket upon deck. "'Rested in the
notion,' did it? Nothing of the sort, sir! It rested in the apple,
which he was told not to eat; but, nevertheless, ate. Born a
philosopher, was he? And knew the effect of every cause without
knowing the difference between good and evil? Why, man, 'twas
precisely against becoming a philosopher that the Almighty took pains
to warn him!"

Mr. Badcock hastily turned a page.

"The image of God was no less resplendent in that which we call
man's practical understanding--namely, that storehouse of the
soul in which are treasured up the rules of action and the
seeds of morality. Now of this sort are these maxims: 'That
God is to be worshipped,' 'That parents are to be honoured,'
'That a man's word is to be kept.' It was the privilege of Adam
innocent to have these notions also firm and untainted--"

My father flung up both hands. "Oh! So Adam honoured his father and
his mother?"

"Belike," suggested Billy Priske, scratching his head, "Eve was
exp