but himself; and all that's on this
page." Here poor Raymond shed tears, so completely was he overpowered
by the force of his own imaginings. He again proceeded--"And the poor
white-headed son. What wouldn't the poor mother give to have his white
head to look at? but he will never waken--he will never waken more.
What's the name o' this book?" he inquired of Mr. Lucre.

"My excellent and most intelligent friend," replied that gentleman, in
atone of meekness and humility that would have shamed an apostle; "my
most interesting friend, the name of that book in the Bible."

"The Bible! oh yes; but am I doin' it right?" he inquired; "am I puttin'
the explanation to it as I ought? Sure they all oxplain it, and it's
only fair that Raymond should show his larnin' as well as any of them.
Let us see, then--murdher and bloodshed, hangin' and starvin', huntin',
purshuin, whippin', cowld and nakedness, hunger and sickness, death and
then madness, and then death agin, and then damnation! Did I explain
it?"

"Perfectly, my friend--nothing can do better."

"Well, then, think of it; but these aren't my explanations--but I know
who puts them to that bad book! Don't they take all I said out of it?
They do; and, sure, don't you see the poor people's blood, and tears,
and everything upon it; sure all I said is in it. Here," he exclaimed,
shuddering, "take it away, or may be it'll make me as wicked as the rest
of you. But, after all, maybe it's not the fault of the book, but of the
people." It would indeed be difficult to find a more frightful comment
upon the crimes and atrocities which have been perpetrated in this
divided country, in the name, and under the character of religion, than
that which issued, with a kind of methodical incoherency, from the lips
of _Raymond-na-hattha_. When he had concluded, Mr. Lucre, having first
wiped the big drops of perspiration from his forehead, politely asked
him if there was anything he could do for him.

"Oh, ay," said he; "but first bring me a lump of good mate, and a quart
of portlier."

"You shall have it, my excellent friend. John, ring the bell. You are a
very interesting person, Mr.--Mr.--

"_Raymond-na-hattha_, sir."

"Mr. Raiment--very interesting, indeed. (Good God! am I to run the risk
of being-strangled in my own house by a madman!) Oh--here, Alick;
bring up some cold meat and a bottle of porter. Anything to make you
comfortable, my good sir."

"I only want to see if all's right,