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So well I am, dear Mr. We have had a delightful letter from Carlyle, who loves my husband, I am proud to say. Say, a rich man did? excellent. A king? That grows sublime. A priest? Improbable. A pope? Ah, there we stop, and cannot bring Our faith up to the leap, with history's bell So heavy round the neck of it albeit We fain would grant the possibility For thy sake, Pio Nono!
I had often heard of the Pope in the symbols of the Apocalypse, and in the pages of history as the antichrist; and now I was to see him with the eye in the person of Pio Nono.
Having spoken of the abstract and spiritual power that reigns over Italy, and, I may say, over the whole Catholic world, let me now speak of the corporeal and human machinery by which the Papacy is carried on. First comes the Pope. Pio Nono is a man of sixty-three. His years and the various misfortunes of his reign sit lightly upon him.
The temporal Power of the Pope had now almost vanished; but, as his worldly dominions steadily diminished, the spiritual pretensions of the Holy Father no less steadily increased. For seven centuries the immaculate conception of the Virgin had been highly problematical; Pio Nono spoke, and the doctrine became an article of faith.
"Hakka kado me no tonga, lakka prada estig ferente," rejoined Hal Overton, with a grin. "Dikka mone peditti u nono mate ben," said Noll cheerfully. "What language is that, lads?" demanded Captain Freeman. "New Jersey hog-Latin, I imagine, sir," replied Sergeant Hal soberly. "I do not believe, gentlemen, that we can send better scouts than Sergeants Overton and Terry," said Captain Freeman.
Her salon in Rome under Pio Nono became a great rendezvous for English and Americans, attracted by the historic names and titles that M. d'Estrées' connections among the Black nobility, his wealth, and his interest in several of the Catholic banking-houses of Rome and Naples enabled his wife to command. Colonel Wensleydale did not appear.
But when we go to Rome, and offer to buy with our money a spot of ground on which to erect a house for the worship of God, we are told that we can have no, not a foot's-breadth. Why, I say, the gospel had more toleration in Pagan Rome, aye, even when Nero was emperor, than it has in Papal Rome under Pio Nono.
But she did not go quite as far as her aunt's, after all. For perhaps fifteen minutes she waited on the corner of the block, walking slowly to and fro, watching the house closely. Then Wolf Sheridan came out, and set off at his usual brisk walk toward the subway. Norma stepped before him, trembling and smiling. "Nono for the Lord's sake! Where did you come from?"
"I'll get her ready," said Norah; "but you're sure to be sorry if you take her, for she's brimming over with mischief to-day." Dotty danced like a piece of thistledown. "There, Nono," said she, "I's goin' to auntie's my own self; Prudy'll have to give up." All this time Mrs. Parlin and the two older children were having a fine walk. It was a bright June day.
A few months ago, when the Pope proclaimed his newest invented dogma, the Immaculate Conception, he gave, in honour of the occasion, a grand jubilee to the Roman Catholic world. We all know what a jubilee is. There is a vast treasury above, filled with the merits of Pio Nono and of such as he, out of which those who have not enough for their own salvation may supplement their deficiencies.
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