This made me understand the last paragraph in the
Apostles' Creed, and made me a Catholic Christian.'
So, though Death came slowly, struggling step by step with that
bold and tenacious spirit, when he did come at last the Cardinal
was ready. Robed in his archiepiscopal vestments, his rochet, his
girdle, and his mozzetta, with the scarlet biretta on his head,
and the pectoral cross upon his breast, he made his solemn
Profession of Faith in the Holy Roman Church. A crowd of lesser
dignitaries, each in the garments of his office, attended the
ceremonial. The Bishop of Salford held up the Pontificale and the
Bishop of Amycla bore the wax taper. The provost of Westminster,
on his knees, read aloud the Profession of Faith, surrounded by
the Canons of the Diocese. Towards those who gathered about him,
the dying man was still able to show some signs of recognition,
and even, perhaps, of affection; yet it seemed that his chief
preoccupation,
up to the very end, was with his obedience to the rules
prescribed by
the Divine Authority. 'I am glad to have been able to do
everything in
due order', were among his last words. 'Si fort qu'on soit,' says
one
of the profoundest of the observers of the human heart, 'on peut
eprouver
le besoin de s'incliner devant quelqu'un ou quelque chose.
S'incliner devant
Dieu, c'est toujours le moins humiliant.
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