“Some questions had been raised as to the propriety of kissing the Pope’s toe, and even theologians had their doubts touching so singular a ceremony. But this difficulty has been set at rest by Matthew of Westminster, who explains the true origin of this custom. He says that formerly it was usual to kiss the hand of his Holiness, but that towards the end of the eighth century a certain lewd woman, in making an offering to the Pope, not only kissed his hand, but also pressed it. The Pope,—his name was Leo,—seeing the danger, cut off his hand, and thus escaped the contamination to which he had been exposed. Since that time, the precaution has been taken of kissing the Pope’s toe, instead of his hand. And, lest any one should doubt the accuracy of this account, the historian assures us that the hand, which had been cut off five or six hundred years before, still existed in Rome; and was indeed a standing miracle, since it was preserved in the Lateran in its original state, free from corruption. And, as some readers might wish to be informed respecting the Lateran itself, where the hand was kept, this also is considered by the historian, in another part of his great work, where he traces it back to the Emperor Nero. For it is said that this wicked persecutor of the faith on one occasion vomited a frog covered with blood, which he believed to be his own progeny, and, therefore, caused it to be shut up in a vault, where it remained hidden for some time. Now, in the Latin language _latente_ means hidden, and _rana_ means a frog; so that by putting these two words together we have the origin of the Lateran, which, in fact, was built where the frog was found.” Punch, the London Charivari, who is no respecter of persons, and who strikes right and left with unhesitating freedom, levelled the following characteristic squib at Pius IX. during the famous Gladstone and Manning controversy: “DE PROFUNDIS.”—A NEW VERSION. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Close prisoner kept within the Vatican; What if ’tis a fair palace, if I don’t Go free abroad—that is because I won’t! Dry bread and water, such the prison food;— Unless I choose to order all that’s good. And then so poor—with Peter’s pence in pocket, And treasury with friends and foes to stock it. Besides, these felon’s garments forced to wear, Of softest silk and costliest mohair; And forced to brook, by rulers harsh and proud, Th’ obsequious service of a servile crowd; Crowding my halls, my cruel gaolers see Waiting my orders upon bended knee! And last, not least—for the severest blow— My visitors are free to come and go, To crave my blessing, and to kiss my toe! THE BRONZE STATUE OF ST. PETER. In “Pen-Pictures of Europe,” Elizabeth Peake says, speaking of St. Peter’s Church at Rome: