though he had some expectations from
the sceptic, he could not help bursting out into laughter; but he became
grave enough when his angry uncle told him that he would leave him in
his will nothing but the family Bible, which he might make a ledger if
he pleased. Whether this resolute old sceptic ever vanquished his
incredulity, I do not remember.

Very different from the case of this sceptic was that of a most
excellent female relative, who had been equally long a prisoner to
her chamber, and to whom the Bible had been, as to so many thousands
more, her faithful companion in solitude, and the all-sufficient
solace of her sorrows. I found her gazing intently on the blank Bible,
which had been so recently bright to her with the lustre of immortal
hopes. She burst into tears as she saw me. "And has your faith left
you too, my gentle friend?" said I. "No," she answered, "and I trust it
never will. He who has taken away the Bible has not taken away my
memory, and I now recall all that is most precious in that book which
has so long been my meditation. It is a heavy judgment upon the land;
and surely," added this true Christian, never thinking of the faults of
others, "I, at least, cannot complain, for I have not prized as I ought
that book, which yet, of late years, I think I can say, I loved more
than any other possession on earth. But I know," she continued, smiling
through her tears, "that the sun shines, though clouds may veil him for
the moment; and I am unshaken in my faith in those truths which have
transcribed on my memory, though they are blotted from my book. In these
hopes I have lived, and in these hopes I will die." "I have no consolation
to offer to you," said I, "for you need none." She quoted many of the
passages which have been, through all ages, the chief stay of sorrowing
humanity; and I thought the words of Scripture had never sounded so
solemn or so sweet before. "I shall often come to see you," I said,
"to hear a chapter in the Bible, for you know it far better than I."

No sooner had I taken my leave, than I was informed that an old lady of
my acquaintance had summoned me in haste. She said she was much impressed
by this extraordinary calamity. As, to my certain knowledge, she had
never troubled the contents of the book, I was surprised that she had so
taken to heart the loss of that which had, practically, been lost to
her all her days. "Sir" said she, the moment I entered, "the Bible, the
Bible." "Y