Pius IX., however, had accomplished his appointed task. He had celebrated, and with a wonderful renewal of health, his last festival and his last anniversary. Four days later, in the evening of the 6th February, he was seized with a slight attack of fever, which caused no alarm. It was the prelude, however, to more serious attacks, which shortly succeeded one another in rapid succession till the moment of his death. At four o'clock in the morning a potion was administered, in order to soothe the feverish agitation of the patient. Its good effect was only of short duration. As his physician entered, “this time,” said he, “my dear doctor, all is over.” He did not share the hopes of those who attended the celebration of Candlemas day. He understood that his last hour on earth was near at hand, and he requested that the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction should be administered.
As soon as the doleful tidings reached the city, the people were bid to prayer by a general ringing of the bells. Great numbers of the faithful sought the approaches to the Vatican. Many entered and crowded the halls and ante-chambers of the [pg 439] palace, offering up their prayers, with abundance of tears, as Bishop Marinelli, whom, only one month before, Pius IX. had sent to assist King Victor Emmanuel, conveyed the Viaticum to the chamber of death and administered the Sacraments. As the malady increased it attacked the lungs (not the brain, as the infidel newspapers falsely represented),[17] rendering difficult and painful the breathing of the patient. Nevertheless, Pius IX. calmly and distinctly repeated the prayers for the dying, which Cardinal Bilio had begun to recite. At the end of the Act of Contrition, he said, with great humility and confidence, “Col rostro adjuto”[18] and expressed his Christian hope, saying, “In Domumm Domini ibimus.”[19] As the cardinal, bathed in tears, hesitated to pronounce the words of final adieu—“Proficiscere anima Christiana”[20]—the Holy Father inspired the courage so necessary at the hour of separation, be, himself uttering the words, “Si Proficiscere.” He must bless, once more, the Sacred College, the members of which were all kneeling around him. Cardinal Bilio, in their name, asked him to impart his blessing. Extending his right hand, he blessed them for the last time. Scarcely had the hand that had been so often raised in blessing mankind fallen on the couch when the eyes became dim. A little before four o'clock the death agony commenced. A few moments before six Pius IX. ceased to live.
“Eternal rest give to him, O Lord,” devoutly said the cardinal, “and may perpetual light shine upon him.” These words conveyed the mournful fact that Pius IX. lived no more. They were, at the same time, the occasion of an outburst of love and devotedness, which showed that this wonderful Pope still commanded in death that affection which, in his lifetime, had been often so gloriously manifested.
Cardinals, prelates, nobles, people of Rome, guards and servants, struggled and crowded on each other, in order to press, once more, forehead and lips on those sacred hands [pg 440] which could never more be raised to bless them. It was a singularly affecting scene. The wail of sorrow and the unfeigned expression of esteem and love arose also as the tidings spread throughout the wide extent of the Catholic world.
The deceased Pontiff needs no eulogium. His memory will be as green throughout the centuries to come as on the day of his decease. It is impossible, however, to avoid calling to mind the words of Saint Cyprian, spoken in praise of Pope Cornelius, and most appropriately applied by the pious and learned Bishop of Poitiers to Pius IX: “After a promotion which he had neither desired nor sought, but which was due to him alone who makes Pontiffs, what activity from the first moment he was in office! what boldness of initiative! And, what we must chiefly consider and praise, what strength of faith and what courage in having perseveringly and intrepidly held the sacerdotal chair at Rome, at a time when, through opposition to the priesthood, were uttered such fearful threats, and when the Powers of the world were more inclined to undergo any kind of reverse rather than that the Priest of God should occupy at Rome a throne which was the rival of their earthly throne. If, in the midst of so much agitation, the power of the Lord evidently protected the priest whom he had chosen, that priest, nevertheless, in resisting, suffered all that it was possible to suffer, and overcame, by his priestly energy, those for whom were in store other and ulterior defeats.”
St. Cyprian, Epist. LII, ad Antonianum.
The death of Pius IX., long so ardently desired by the Italian ministry, came upon them unawares at last. They had no scheme or plot in readiness, to thwart the action of the cardinals in the election of a successor to the Pontificate.[21] The Conclave, accordingly, assembled in due course, and, on the third day of its meeting, elected to the Chair of Peter Cardinal-Archbishop Pecci, Bishop of Perugia, who will be known in history as Leo XIII.
—FINIS.—