and calmly slept. Even the Master of
Conference, and the bishop himself, gently yielded, after a severe
struggle. "I shall have it all to myself," I said, "and if I don't
profit much by its historical aspects, I shall at least get a few big
rocks of words, unusual or obsolete, to fling at my curate." And so I
did. Codex Alexandrinus, and Codex Sinaiticus, and Codex Bezae, and Codex
Vaticanus rang through my bewildered brain. Then I have a vague
recollection that he actually laughed at the idea of six literal days of
creation, which made an old priest, out of his dreams, turn over to me
and whisper: "He's an infidel"; then, again, he ridiculed the idea of
the recognized authorship of the Pentateuch; spoke of Chaldean and
Babylonian interpolations; knocked on the head the Davidical origin of
the Psalms; made the Book of Daniel half-apocryphal; introduced the
Book of Job, as a piece of Arabian poetry, like the songs of some man
called Hafiz; talked about Johannine Gospels and Pauline Epistles; and,
altogether, left us to think that, by something called Ritschlian
interpretations, the whole Bible was knocked into a cocked hat. Then he
began to build up what he had thrown down; and on he went, in his
rhythmical, musical way, when just as he declared that "the basal
document on which everything is founded is the ur-evangelium, which is
the underlying cryptic element of the Synoptic Gospels,"--just as he
reached that point, and was going on about Tatian's "Diatessaron," a
deep stertorous sound, like the trumpeting of an elephant, reverberated
through the conference room. They all woke up, smiling at me, and as
they did not seem inclined to apologize to Father Duff for their
misbehavior, I said gravely and most angrily:--

"My Lord, I think the Conference should be a little less unconscious of
the grave discourtesy done to one of the most able and erudite papers
that I have ever heard here--"

There was a shout of irreverent laughter, in which, I am sorry to say,
the bishop joined. At least, I saw his Lordship taking out a silk
handkerchief and wiping his eyes.

"I propose now, my Lord, as an _amende_ to the most cultured and
distinguished young priest, that that valuable paper be sent, with your
Lordship's approbation, to some ecclesiastical journal in Ireland or
America. Its appearance in permanent print may give these young men some
idea of the contents of the document, the main features of which they
have lost by yieldi