en? Those I saw had
much the air of intelligent and respectable artizans; for I believe it
is this class that are now bearing the brunt of the papal tyranny. The
higher classes were swept off before, and the rage of the Government is
now venting itself in a lower and wider sphere. An intelligent
Scotchman, who had charge of the one iron-shop in the Corso, informed me
that now all the tolerably skilled workmen had been so weeded out of the
city by the Pope, that it was scarce possible to find hands to do the
little work that requires to be done in Rome. If there be among my
readers a mechanic who has been indifferent to the question between this
country and the Papacy, as one the settlement of which could not affect
his interests either way, I tell him he never made a greater mistake all
his life. If the Papacy succeed, his interests will be the very first to
suffer, in the ruin of trade. Nor will that suffice; if a skilled man,
he will be held to be a dangerous man; and, having taken from him his
bread, the Papacy will next take from him his liberty, as she is now
doing to his brethren in Rome.

And what becomes of the families of these unhappy men? This is the most
painful part of the business. Their livelihood is gone; and nothing
remains but to go out into the street and beg,--to beg, alas! from
beggars. It is not unfrequent in Rome to find families in competence
this week, and literally soliciting alms the next. You may see matrons
deeply veiled, that they may not be known by their acquaintances,
hanging on at the doors of hotels, in the hope of receiving the charity
of English travellers. Shame on the tyranny that has reduced the Roman
matrons to this! Nor is even this the worst. Deprived of their
protectors, moral ruin sometimes comes in the wake of the physical
privations and sufferings by which these families are overtaken. Thus
the misery of Rome is widening every day. Ah! could I bring before my
readers the picture of that doomed city;--could I show them Rome as it
sits cowering beneath the shadow of this terrible tyranny;--could I make
them see the cloud that day and night hangs above it;--could I paint the
sorrow that darkens every face; the suspicion and fear that sadden the
Roman's every word and look;--could I tell the number of the broken
hearts and the desolate hearths which these old walls enclose;--ah,
there is not one among my readers who would not give me his tears as
plenteously as ever the clouds