Leo X. has been one of the most fortunate of men. His all but sovereign birth was still more distinguished by the merit of his family, to which history has done the amplest justice. His natural talents and tastes were not only of a high order, but were perfectly adapted to the golden age in which he lived, and to the high career for which he was destined. His rapid and premature advancement to the first dignities of the Church stimulated instead of relaxing his mental discipline. He obtained the triple tiara at the unprecedented age of thirty-seven, and wore it during the brightest period of the papacy. Though cut short in the flower of manhood, he lived long enough to link his name with the most splendid era of modern history, and although his measures accelerated the crisis of the Reformation, he died ere their seed had borne that dreaded fruit. In fine, his eventful life has been celebrated by at least one biographer worthy of the theme. On the wide field which such a character opens we shall have little opportunity to expatiate. Our narrative has to do with its darker shadows, and to hold up this Pontiff as the implacable foe of a dynasty which had singular claims upon his favour and consideration. [Illustration: _Anderson_ LEO X _After the picture by Raphael in the Pitti Gallery, Florence_] The general estimate of Julius and of his successor has been shrewdly conceived and tersely expressed by Sismondi. "The projects of the former had prospered beyond the ordinary calculations of policy; his impetuosity, by surprising his enemies and throwing all their plans into confusion, had often availed him more than prudence could have done; he had also extended the temporal possessions of the Church beyond what any of his predecessors had effected. Yet he had caused so many mischiefs, he had occasioned such vast bloodshed, he had so swamped Italy with foreign armies, even while he pretended to rid her of the barbarians, that his death was hailed as a public blessing, and the cardinals responded to the feeling of Rome, Italy, and all Christendom in desiring that his successor should in no respect resemble him. As he had been old, restless, impatient, and passionate, they sought to replace him with one less aged, and whose tastes were for literature, pleasure, and epicurean indulgences.... Leo was quite the opposite of his predecessor; his temperament was far less stern, irascible, or unforgiving. Towards intimate associates his manners were singularly cheerful and gracious. The protection he extended to letters and arts, the favours which he lavished upon savants, poets, and artists, drew from all Europe a chorus of commendation. But, on the other hand, his character fell very short of that of Julius in frankness and elevation; all his negotiations were stained by deceit and perfidy. Whilst he talked of peace he fanned the flame of war; no pity for the inhabitants of Italy, crushed by barbarian hosts, ever influenced his conduct. His