But simple theft, innocent theft, the petty larceny of snuff-boxes and pocket-handkerchiefs, the theft which seeks a modest alms in a neighbour’s pocket, is tolerated as paternally as mendicity.  Official statistics give the number of the beggars in Rome, I believe, somewhat under the mark; it is a pity they fail to give the number of pickpockets, who swarm through the city; this might easily have been done, as their names are all known to the authorities.  No attempt is made to interfere with their operations:  the foreign visitors are rich enough to pay this small tax in favour of the national industry; besides, it is not likely the pickpockets will ever make an attempt upon the Pope’s pocket-handkerchief.

A Frenchman once caught hold of an elegantly dressed gentleman in the act of snatching away his watch; he took him to the nearest post, and placed him in the charge of the sergeant.  “I believe your statement,” said the official,

“for I know the man well, and so would you, if you were not very new to the country.  He is a Lombard; but if we were to arrest all his fellows, our prisons would never be half large enough.  Be off, my fine fellow, and take better care for the future!”

Another foreigner was robbed in the Corso at midnight, on his return from the theatre.  All the consolation he got from the magistrate to whom he complained was, “Sir, you were out at an hour when all honest people should be in bed.”

A traveller was stopped between Rome and Civita Vecchia, and robbed of all the money he had about him.  When he reached Palo, he laid his complaint before the political functionary who taxes travellers for the trouble of fumbling with their passports.  The observation of this worthy man was, “What can you expect? the people are so very poor!”

On the eve of the grand fetes, however, all the riffraff are bound to go to prison, lest the religious ceremonies should be disturbed by evil-doers.  They go of their own accord, as an amicable concession to a paternal government:  and if any professional thief were by chance to absent himself, he would be politely sent for about midnight.  But in spite even of these vigilant measures, it is seldom that a Holy Week goes by without a watch or two going astray; and to any complaint the police would be sure to reply: 

“You must not blame us; we have taken every necessary precaution against such accidents.  We have got all the thieves who are inscribed on our books under lock and key.  For any new comers we are not responsible.”

The following incident occurred while I was at Rome; it serves to illustrate the pleasing fraternal tie which unites the magistrates with the thieves.

A former secretary to Monsignor Vardi, by name Berti, had a gold snuff-box, which he prized highly, it having been given him by his master.  One day, crossing the Forum, he took out his snuff-box, just in front of the temple of Antoninus and Faustina, and solaced himself with a pinch of the contents.  The incautious act had been marked by one of the pets of the police.  He had hardly returned the box to his pocket ere he was hustled by some quoit-players, and knocked down.  It is needless to add, that, when he got up, the precious snuff-box was gone.