When raised to the dignity of Cardinal, by Pope Gregory XVI., in December, 1840, Archbishop Mastai was already universally popular. The ovations of a later period may have originated in political motives—may even have been promoted by a political party; but the honors now spontaneously heaped upon him were awarded to the man and the Christian pastor. Congratulations in prose and in verse, illuminations, fireworks, demonstrations of every kind, announced the joy with which the new Cardinal was welcomed everywhere. Gregory XVI. had the reputation of being highly conservative. In the true sense of the term, he really was so. Nevertheless, he was not averse to reform, and he showed that he was not when he elevated Archbishop Mastai, whose tendencies were well known, to the rank and office of Cardinal. More than this, in concurrence with the Great Powers of Europe, with whom he took counsel, he labored to introduce certain salutary reforms in his States. Such reforms, indeed, were needed; and the aged Pontiff resolved on them, not only in order to render unnecessary the intervention of foreign arms in the affairs of his government, but also with a view to bring his rule into harmony with the spirit and civilization of the age. If in this most laudable undertaking he did not succeed, he owed his failure to the Socialist party, those enemies of law and order, of property, and life even, whose fatal action at a later period marred the political career of Pius IX. The Roman people, generally, were capable of appreciating, and surely did appreciate, the enlightened efforts of their Pontiff Sovereign. They were not, as some writers would have us believe, in a semi-barbarous condition. Sylvio Pellico, whose testimony cannot be questioned, speaks of them in the following terms: “The eight months I have spent at Rome in 1845 and 1846 (time of Gregory XVI.) have abounded in delightful impressions. It can never be sufficiently told how well this venerable city deserves to be visited, and not in passing only. How the good and beautiful abound in it!” A little later, Pellico writes: “I continue to be quite delighted with Rome, both as regards men and things. In the small book, _Dei Doceri_, I have shown my inclination to avoid being absolute in my judgments, a too common error, especially with minds that dogmatize passionately. By such Rome is often unjustly judged.