CHAPTER X. A PAPAL PAGEANT.
The Papacy is too old and too feeble even to die with dignity. Of itself
the sight of a falling power, of a dynasy _in extremis_, commands
something of respect if not of regret; but the conduct of the Papacy
deprives it of the sympathy that is due to its misfortunes. There is a
kind of silliness, I know of no better word to use, about the whole Papal
policy at the present day, which is really aggravating. It is silly to
rave about the martyr's crown and the cruel stake, when nobody has the
slightest intention of hurting a hair of your head; silly to talk of your
paternal love when your provinces are in arms against your "cruel
mercies;" silly to boast of your independence when you are guarded in
your own capital against your own subjects by foreign troops; silly, in
fact, to bark when you cannot bite, to lie when you cannot deceive. No
power on earth could make the position of the Pope a dignified one at
this present moment, and if anything could make it less dignified than
before, it is the system of pompous pretensions and querulous complaints
and fulsome adulation which now prevails at the Vatican. I know not how
better to give an idea of the extent to which this system is carried,
than by describing a Papal pageant which occurred early in the year.
To enter fully into the painful absurdity of the whole scene, one should
bear in mind what were the prospects of Papal politics at the
commencement of February.
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