"You are a minister. It is your duty not altogether to preach eloquent sermons, and show a pair of delicate hands from the summit of a marble pulpit. It is your duty to administer comfort by the dying-bed, where humbug is stripped of its mark, and death is 'the only reality'. Do your duty, sir. Save this man's soul." "Yes, save my soul," cried Somers, who heard the last words of the Doctor, "I don't want the offices of the church; I don't want prayers. I want comfort, comfort; _now_." He paused, and then reaching forth his hand, said in a low voice, half broken by a burst of horrible laughter, "There's the way I've got to travel. Now tell me, minister, do you really believe that there is anything there? When we die, we die, don't we? Sleep and rot, rot and sleep, don't we?" Herman, who was an Atheist at heart, though he had never confessed the truth even to himself--Herman, who was a minister for the sake of a large salary, fine carriage, and splendid house--Herman, who was, in fact, an intellectual voluptuary, devoting life and soul to the gratification of one appetite, which had, with him, become a monomania--Herman, now, for the first moment in his life, was conscious of a something _beyond_ the grave; conscious that this religion of Christ, the Master, which he used as a trade, was something more than a trade; was a fact, a reality, at once a hope and a judgment. And the Rev. Herman Barnhurst felt one throe of remorse, and shuddered. Vailing his fair face in his delicate hands, he gave himself up to one moment of terrible reflection. "He is failing fast," whispered the Doctor; "you had better say a word of hope to him." "Yes, the camel is going through the eye of the needle," cried Somers, with a burst of shrill laughter. "Minister, did you ever see a camel go through the eye of a needle? Oh! you fellows preach such soft and velvety sermons to us,--but you never say a word about the camel--never a word about the camel. You see us buy and sell,--you see us hard landlords, careful business men,--you see us making money day after day, and year after year, at the cost of human life and human blood,--and you never say a word about the camel. Never! never! Why we _keep_ such fellows as you, for our use: for every thousand that we make in _trade_, we give you a good discount, in the way of salary, and so as we go along, we keep a _debit_ and _credit_ account with what you call Providence. Now rub out my sins, will you? I've paid you for it, I believe!" "Poor friend! He is delirious!" ejaculated Herman Barnhurst. The boy Gulian, (unperceived by the doctor,) brought a golden-clasped Bible, and laid it on the minister's knees. Then looking with a shudder at the livid face of the merchant prince, he shrank back into the shadows, first whispering to the minister--"Read to him from this book." Somers, with his glassy eye, caught a glimpse of the book, as in its splendid binding, it rested on the minister's knees--