Every one immediately knelt, except a
few persons who tried to show their democracy by
standing; but I am sure that even these individuals
felt a thrill when the slight, exquisite figure appeared
at the door and gave us a general benediction. Then
the Pope passed slowly down the line, offering his
hand to each of us, and radiating a charm so gracious
and so human that few failed to respond to the
appeal of his engaging personality. There was
nothing fleshly about Leo XIII. His body was so
frail, so wraithlike, that one almost expected to see
through it the magnificent tapestries on the walls.
But from the moment he appeared every eye clung
to him, every thought was concentrated upon him.
This effect I think he would have produced even if
he had come among us unrecognized, for through
the thin shell that housed it shone the steady flame
of a wonderful spirit.
I had previously remarked to my friends that
kissing the Pope's ring after so many other lips had
touched it did not appeal to me as hygienic, and that
I intended to kiss his hand instead. When my op-
portunity came I kept my word; but after I had
kissed the venerable hand I remained kneeling for
an instant with bowed head, a little aghast at my
daring. The gentle Father thought, however, that
I was waiting for a special blessing. He gave it to
me gravely and passed on, and I devoted the next
few hours to ungodly crowing over the associ-
ates who had received no such individual atten-
tion.
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