fection to the departed Pontiff. His body
is embalmed, clothed in the robes of his office, of the penitential
color, and laid on a couch of state within one of the chapels in St.
Peter's, so that the faithful may not only see it, but kiss its feet.
This last act of reverence to the mortal remains of the immortal Pius
VIII., the writer well recollects performing.

These preliminaries occupy three days; during which rises, as if by
magic, or from the crypts below, an immense catafalque, a colossal
architectural structure, which fills the nave of that basilica
illustrated by inscriptions, and adorned by statuary. Before this huge
monument, for nine days funeral rites are performed, closed by a funeral
oration. For the body of the last Pope there is a uniform resting-place
in St. Peter's--a plain sarcophagus, of marbled stucco, hardly noticed
by the traveler, over a door beside the choir, on which is simply
painted the title of the latest Pontiff. On the death of his successor
it is broken down at the top, the coffin is removed to the under-church,
and that of the new claimant for repose is substituted. This change
takes place late in the evening, and is considered private. I can not
recollect whether it was on this or on a subsequent occasion that I
witnessed it with my college companions....

In the afternoon of the last day of the novendiali, as they are called,
the cardinals assemble in a church near the Quirinal palace, and walk
thence in procession, accompanied by their conclavisiti, a secretary, a
chaplain, and a servant or two, to the great gate of the royal
residence, in which one will remain as master and supreme lord. Of
course the hill is crowded by persons lining the avenue kept open for
the procession. Cardinals never before seen by them, or not for many
years, pass before them; eager eyes scan and measure them, and try to
conjecture, from fancied omens in eye, or figure, or expression, who
will shortly be the sovereign of their fair city, and, what is more, the
Head of the Catholic Church from the rising to the setting sun.

Equal they pass the threshold of that gate; they share together the
supreme rule, temporal and spiritual; there is still embosomed in them
all the voice yet silent, that soon will sound, from one tongue, over
all the world, and the dormant germ of that authority which will soon
again be concentrated in one man alone. To-day they are all equal;
perhaps to-morrow one will sit enthroned, a