To cherish grief, her last, her dearest care, Oft as the shifting light her sight beguil'd, Slowly she wan'd, and cold and senseless grown, Once more she gaz'd, then feebly smil'd, and died.' "If in the Apollo we see the fulness of manly grace, and more than mortal beauty, if the serenity of the godhead shines on his commanding brow; in the Laocoon, we behold a being of our own nature struggling before us in the heart-rending anguish of parental affection, and the convulsive agonies of an instantaneously impending unnatural death. "The blood curdles at that dreadful tragedy. On that hoary head sits horror, in her deepest, darkest, deadliest sublimity. We behold the father in that last, bitterest moment of high wrought agony, when he hears the faint cry of his helpless offspring, who vainly cling to him for protection, sees them entwined with himself in the inextricable rings of these horrid reptiles, from whose touch nature recoils, and shrinks in agony of spirit, from their opening fangs; terror and corporeal anguish mingling with the pangs of parental love, and the tortures of despair! The distorted face, the rolling eye, the ghastly countenance, the bristling hair, the racked and working muscles, the starting sinews, and distended limbs of Laocoon, give us the picture of human nature in its last stage of horror and of suffering; and that it is human nature, our deep shuddering sympathy makes us feel too well. Can it be marble that thus expresses the deep and complicated passions of the soul, and harrows up all the feelings of our nature? But it is generally, formed like nature. "To the unspeakable sublimity of the figure of the Laocoon himself, every tongue does homage. In its perfection, keeneyed criticism has never spied out a fault. and truly said, that the children are not They are diminutive men. This is true; but they ought not to be considered apart from the main figure; they are subordinate objects in the group. Look on them, not separately, or individually, but as a whole. Your eye, your soul, your sympathy, is with the Laocoon himself. And see how they group with his? Would the chubby-faced, undefined forms, and inexpressive features of childhood, have harmonized with that agonized form? No; the great artist here wisely sacrificed truth of detail to general effect. "It adds, if possible, to the inexpressible interest with which we regard this wonderful masterpiece, which sculpture has never equalled, to know, that during all the ages that have passed since it was formed, the poets, the philosophers, and the princes, whose genius and virtues have blessed and enlightened the world, have gazed upon it with the same admiration we now feel,—that Titus and Trajan have admired it,that Pliny has praised it,—and Virgil himself must have beheld it; for so close is the resemblance between the description in the Æneid and the Statue, that it is certain, the poet must either have copied the sculptor, or the sculptor realized the conception of the poet. And as the great artists who sculptured the Laocoon lived about the age of Alexander the Great, we must conclude that Virgil, and consequently, that Augustus, Horace, and Mecænas, must have beheld and admired its matchless sublimity. Three thousand years have passed away since it was formed, and still it stands in unchanged, undiminished grandeur. It has been the admiration of every successive genera R tion, that time has swept into the tomb: and, while the world remains, it will be the wonder and the praise of the generations yet to come." nence. CHAPTER VII. OF THE ELECTION OF THE POPES, &c. THE Pope is elected by the College of Cardinals, being seventy-two in number, including the six suburban Bishoprics, whose principal and most honorable privilege is that of electing the Pope; and it is easy to conceive that their dignity and importance increased with that of the Roman See itself, and that they shared alike its temporal and its spiritual pre-emiAs the Cardinals are the counsellors, so they are the officers of the Pontiff, and are thus entrusted with the management of the Church at large, and of the Roman State in particular. The grand assembly of the Cardinals is called the Consistory, where the Pontiff presides in person. Here they appear in all the splendor of the purple, and form a most majestic senate. Here, therefore, public communications are announced, foreign ambassadors received, Cardinals created, formal compliments made and answered; and, in short, all the exterior splendor of sovereignty displayed. But the principal prerogative of a Cardinal is exercised in the Conclave, so called, because the members of the sacred College are then confined within the precincts of the great halls of the Vatican Palace, where they remain immured till they agree in the election of a Pontiff. As soon as the Holy Father has expired, the Cardinal Chamberlain, in a purple dress, presents himself at the door of his chamber, and knocks three times with a gold hammer, calling each time the Pope by his christian, family, and Papal names. After a short time, he says, in presence of the Clerks of the chamber, and his apostolical notaries, who take act of that ceremony, "He is then dead." The fisherman's ring is then brought to the Cardinal, who breaks it with the same hammer; he then takes possession of the Vatican, in the name of the Apostolical Chamber. After having established his authority in that palace, he sends guards to take possession of the gates of the city, and of the Castle of St. Angelo; and when he has provided for the safety of Rome, he quits the Vatican in a carriage, preceded by a Captain of the Pope's guard, and having by his side the Swiss, who generally accompany his Holiness. When this march begins, the great bell of the capitol is tolled, and, as it only tolls on this occasion, announces to the whole city the death of the Sovereign Pontiff. The body having been embalmed, is clad in its Pontifical dress, and, with the mitre on its head, lies in state during three days, on a bed of parade. It is next carried, with great pomp, to the church of St. Peter, where it remains, nine days, exposed to public view, after which the burial takes place. The next day the Cardinals assemble in the same Cathedral, where the oldest of them celebrates the Mass of the Holy Ghost, for the election of a new Pope. Another Prelate, in a Latin oration, exhorts the Cardinals to choose an individual worthy of so eminent a station; after which, they all march in procession behind the Papal Cross, the musicians singing the hymn, Veni Creator! to the hall of Conclave, which occupies a large portion of the Vatican; the large rooms are divided, by temporary partitions, into what are called cells, which are subdivided again into little rooms and closets. Every Cardinal has his own, for him and his assistants, and it is only large enough to hold a bed, five or six chairs, and a table. The hour of holding a new Conclave being come, a bell is rung, to cause the Ambassadors, Princes, Prelates, and other persons of distinction, who may be present, to retire. When they are all gone out, the doors and windows are walled up, with the exception of one, which throws but a dim light upon the Conclave. The only communication with the exterior is by the means of towers, in the same shape as those used in the convents of Nuns. One door is also kept for the removal of any Cardinal who may be ill, but who loses the right of giving an active vote if he retires. The mode of election now in use, is by a secret ballot. Two chalices stand on a long table, in the chapel of Sixtus, into which the Cardinals deposit their bulletins, containing the name of the individual for whom they vote. One of the scrutators reads it aloud, while two others mark the number of votes for each individual, by the side of his name, on the large tablet where all those of the Cardinals are inscribed. Whoever obtains two thirds of the votes present, is canonically elected. His name is immediately proclaimed aloud, and the Cardinals, sitting on his right and left, rise, and quit their places. His consent is asked; and, when it is given, the Cardinals, beginning by the oldest, perform the first adoration; that is to say, kiss his foot, and then his hand. The first Cardinal Deacon now announces the election to the people, and the artillery of the Castle of St. Angelo, and the bells of the city, spread the news afar. The people are then allowed to break into the Conclave, and carry off all they can. The following extract from the English Ambassador's dis |