It stands alone, as it were, in a mighty city, close to the densest throng of men, but partaking neither of the noise nor the crowd; a small secluded, dreary spot, tenanted, one would say, by quite unambitious people at the easiest rents.

"Is this Mount Olympus ?" asks the unbelieving stranger.

"Is it from these small, dark, dingy buildings that those infallible laws proceed which cabinets are called upon to obey; by which bishops are to be guided, lords and commons controlled, judges instructed in law, generals in strategy, admirals in naval tactics, and orange-women in the management of their barrows ?" "Yes, my friend--from these walls.

From here issue the only known infallible bulls for the guidance of British souls and bodies.
This little court is the Vatican of England.

Here reigns a pope, self-nominated, self-consecrated,--ay, and much stranger too,--self-believing!--a pope whom, if you cannot obey him, I would advise you to disobey as silently as possible; a pope hitherto afraid of no Luther; a pope who manages his own inquisition, who punishes unbelievers as no most skilful inquisitor of Spain ever dreamt of doing;--one who can excommunicate thoroughly, fearfully, radically; put you beyond the pale of men's charity; make you odious to your dearest friends, and turn you into a monster to be pointed at by the finger!" Oh heavens! and this is Mount Olympus! It is a fact amazing to ordinary mortals that _The Jupiter_ is never wrong.