At
last they, too, had succumbed like the nations before their era.
The temple of Jupiter on the Capitol had fallen, so had the holy
temple of Jerusalem. And now St. Peter's. Their central religion
had been destroyed, and yet prophecies of the second coming of
their divinity had not been accomplished. When the last Pope of
Rome dies, so it was said, then time would be accomplished. The
last Pope _had_ died. Their basilica with its mighty dome was a
desert where scorpions and snakes abounded. The fifth Buddha would
appear, not the second Christos. Suddenly I saw before me in a puny
boat a beautiful beardless youth. He was attired in some symbolical
garments and upon his head a triple tiara. I could not believe my
aged eyes. He sat upright. His attitude was hieratic. His eyes
were lifted heavenwards. He clasped his hands and prayed:--
"O Lord, remove thy servant. The time is at hand foretold by thy
slaughtered saints. I am the last Pope and the humblest of thy
servants.
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