Across the table I hear a citizen of London town narrating to a
curious audience how he has to-day seen the two great lions of
Rome,--the Coliseum, and Cardinal Antonelli. The conclusion he arrives
at is, that the first is a very fine ruin, and the second a very
clever man.
A provincial dowager of the devotee class, is worth listening to. She
has toiled through the entire ceremonies of the Holy Week. She has
knelt close to the Pope, and declares his mode of giving the
Benediction the most sublime thing on earth. The good lady has spared
neither time nor money in order to carry home a choice collection of
_relics_. Among other objects of adoration she has a bone of St.
Perpetua, and a real bit of the real Cross. Not satisfied with these,
she is bent on obtaining the Pope's palm-branch, the very identical
palm-branch which his Holiness has carried in his own sacred hand.
This is with her a fixed idea, a positive question of salvation. The
poor old soul has not the smallest doubt, that this bit of stick will
open for her the gates of Paradise. She has made her request to a
priest, who will transmit it to a Monsignore, who will forward it to a
Cardinal. Her importunity and her simplicity will, doubtless, move
somebody. She will get the precious bough, and she is convinced that
when she arrives at home with it, all the devotees in the province
will burst with envy.
Among these batches of ridiculous travellers, you are certain to find
some ecclesiastics.
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