the precise man, 'at least Bibles; you had
better depart.'

'Stay, brother,' said the man with the countenance of a lion, 'let us ask
a few questions; this may be a very important case; perhaps the young man
has had convictions.'

'Not I,' I exclaimed, 'I am convinced of nothing, and with regard to the
Bible--I don't believe--'

'Hey!' said the man with the lion countenance, and there he stopped. But
with that 'Hey' the walls of the house seemed to shake, the windows
rattled, and the porter whom I had seen in front of the house came
running up the steps, and looked into the apartment through the glass of
the door.

There was silence for about a minute--the same kind of silence which
succeeds a clap of thunder.

At last the man with the lion countenance, who had kept his eyes fixed
upon me, said calmly, 'Were you about to say that you don't believe in
the Bible, young man?'

'No more than in anything else,' said I; 'you were talking of
convictions--I have no convictions. It is not easy to believe in the
Bible till one is convinced that there is a Bible.'

'He seems to be insane,' said the prim-looking man; 'we had better order
the porter to turn him out.'

'I am by no means certain,' said I, 'that the porter could turn me out;
always provided there is a porter, and this system of ours be not a lie,
and a dream.'

'Come,' said the lion-looking man, impatiently, 'a truce with this
nonsense. If the porter cannot turn you out, perhaps some other person
can; but to the point--you want a Bible?'

'I do,' said I, 'but not for myself; I was sent by another person to
offer something in exchange for one.'

'And who is that person?'

'A poor old woman, who has had what you call convictions,--heard voices,
or thought she heard them--I forgot to ask her whether they were loud
ones.'

'What has she sent to offer in exchange?' said the man, without taking
any notice of the concluding part of my speech.

'A book,' said I.

'Let me see it.'

'Nay, brother,' said the precise man, 'this will never do; if we once
adopt the system of barter, we shall have all the holders of useless
rubbish in the town applying to us.'

'I wish to see what he has brought,' said the other; 'perhaps Baxter, or
Jewell's _Apology_, either of which would make a valuable addition to our
collection. Well, young man, what's the matter with you?'

I stood like one petrified; I had put my hand into my pocket--the book
was gone.

'What's