“It is precisely on that ground,” said the Italian, “and on that ground only, the welfare of the Church, that our Holy Mother does not approve of the Bible being read generally.  The true theory of the Roman Catholic Church would never be elicited from it.”

“Precisely so,” said our host, gravely; “I am sure it could not.”

“But then,” remarked our friend, the Deist, “since the Church of Rome holds this book to be the inspired revelation of God to mankind, is it not singular to say that this ‘revelation’ requires to be carefully concealed from mankind; that the Bible is invaluable, indeed, but only while it is unread; and that, in fact, the Church knows herself better than Jesus Christ himself did? for in that book we are supposed to have the words of Him and her founders, and yet it seems they could only mislead!  ’Never man spake like this man,’ may well be said of Christ, if this were true.”

“Never mind him, Signor,” said our host.  “He secretly cannot but approve of your end, though he disapproves the means.”  The Deist looked surprised.

“Why, have you not sometimes said that you believe the Bible to be, in many respects, a most pernicious book? that many of the most obstinate and dangerous prejudices of mankind are principally due to it? and that you wish it were in your power to destroy it?”

“Well, I certainly have thought so, if not said so.”

“Then you approve of the end, though you disapprove of the means.  You ought to thank our friend here, and regret that his work is not done more effectually.  But enough of this.  I must not have my respected Roman Catholic guests alone put on the defensive.  The Signor fairly tells us what his system is in relation to the Bible and why he would place it under lock and key; he tells you also what better thing he substitutes when he removes the Bible.  I really think it is but fair and candid in you to do as much.  I know you all believe that you are not only in quest of religious truth, but have found it to some extent or other:—­for my own part I am exempted from speaking; for I have given over the search in despair.”

This frank acknowledgment was followed by some highly curious conversation, of which I regret my inability to recall all the particulars.  Suffice it to say, that there were not two who were agreed either as to the grounds on which Christianity was deemed a thing of naught, or on what was to be substituted in its place; one even had his doubts whether any thing need be substituted, and another thought that any thing might be.  One of the Rationalists was a little offended at being supposed willing to “abandon” the Bible at all:  he declared, on the contrary, his unfeigned reverence for the New Testament at least, as containing, in larger mass and purer ore than any other book in the world, the principles of ethical truth; that he was willing even to admit—­with exquisite naivete—­that it was inspired in the same sense in which Plato’s Dialogues