ground, extending far along the scene. They stretch over the wide Campagna, till they reach the spot where once stood the vanished palaces of Mæcenas and Domitian, and we lose sight of them among the distant mountains of Albano. Altogether, this is as poetical a spot as the earth can furnish, nor could one be found more lovely even among the Grecian solitudes which Theocritus so beautifully describes. The Dryad and Nymph have indeed gone for ever, yet, fable or not, we cannot help feeling, as we think of the legend— "whatsoe'er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth." CHAPTER XV. WHILE the visitor is wandering among the ruins of Rome, he will sometimes be roused from his reveries by the approach of a splendid carriage, flaming with scarlet and gold, and three footmen in gorgeous liveries clustering on behind, all contrasting strangely with the time-worn relics of former ages and the filth and wretchedness of the modern city. That is the equipage of a Cardinal. Within sits an old man, dressed also in scarlet. That is his Eminence. For centuries the College of the Cardinals has been in many respects the most powerful legislative body in Europe, and the highest object of Ecclesiastical ambition. The sons of the first monarchs considered the dignity a prize worthy of their aim, and the Pope could often win the sovereign himself to his views by the bribe of a Cardinal's hat for one of his family. Reginald Pole, the last of the powerful race of the Plantagenets and one of the gentlest and holiest of men, was a Cardinal, and since his death, no ecclesiastic of that rank has ever resided at the Court of England. He was ill of the same fever as his royal cousin Queen Mary, and in their last hours constant messages were passing between them. When she expired, forseeing the ruin of his faith, he expressed his satisfaction at the prospect of speedy dissolution, which actually took place in a few hours. He died— it has been beautifully said-" as if by a mysterious instinct, in the very last night whose moon shone upon the rich tillage lands and dusky woodland chases of Catholic England, still, for one night still, a portion of the Roman Obedience."* The last of the exiled Stuarts also died at Rome in the same office, under the title of Cardinal York. The Cardinals are seventy in number, this being the limit fixed by Sextus V. in allusion to "the seventy disciples of our Lord." The College however is seldom full, as some appointments are kept in reserve to meet emergencies. They are the Princes of the Church, and are divided into three ranks,-1. Six Cardinal Bishops; 2. Fifty Cardinal Priests; 3. Fourteen Cardinal Deacons. The dignity has however now been thrown open to laymen, and the Governor of Rome, who is recognized so often in the streets by his violet stockings and short black silk cloak, usually receives a Cardinal's hat at the expiration of his term of office. They meet occasionally as the Consistory, sitting in the full dignity of the purple with the Pontiff presiding in person. This however is a mere matter of form to receive Foreign Ambassadors, or to add to the splendor of the Court. Their chief Prerogative is when they meet in Conclave to elect a Pope. This is a power which they gained in the eleventh century under Nicholas .II., when a Council conferred on them the exclusive right of voting at Papal elections, thus setting aside the ancient privilege of the Roman clergy and people to nominate their Bishop. Hildebrand-afterwards Gregory VII.—was then Cardinal-Archdeacon of Rome, the great minister of the Pope's reign, and director of all his measures, and this was one of the steps which he had proposed to increase the power of the Papacy. The voice was indeed the voice of Nicholas, but the hand was the hand of Hildebrand. For nine days after the Pontiff's death the Cardinal Chamberlain exercises supreme authority, and even has the right to coin money in his own name and impressed with his own arms. From the Rev. F. W. Faber. |