Modest it was in its cheap "get up" as a school manual, but that did not matter: danger began with the very alphabet, increased as knowledge was acquired, and burst forth with those _resumes_ of the physical, chemical, and natural sciences which bring the very Creation, as described by Holy Writ, into question.

However, the Index dared not attempt to suppress those humble volumes, those terrible soldiers of truth, those destroyers of faith.

What was the use, then, of all the money which Leo XIII drew from his hidden treasure of the Peter's Pence to subvention Catholic schools, with the thought of forming the believing generations which the papacy needed to enable it to conquer?
What was the use of that precious money if it was only to serve for the purchase of similar insignificant yet formidable volumes, which could never be sufficiently "cooked" and expurgated, but would always contain too much Science, that growing Science which one day would blow up both Vatican and St.Peter's?
Ah! that idiotic and impotent Index, what wretchedness and what derision! Then, when Pierre had placed Theophile Morin's book in his valise, he once more returned to the window, and while leaning out, beheld an extraordinary vision.

Under the cloudy, coppery sky, in the mild and mournful night, patches of wavy mist had risen, hiding many of the house-roofs with trailing shreds which looked like shrouds.

Entire edifices had disappeared, and he imagined that the times were at last accomplished, and that truth had at last destroyed St.Peter's dome.