It ought to be profitable to me pecuniarily; but in these respects Fate runs so uniformly counter to me, that I dare not expect ever to be free from perplexity and uncongenial labor.  Still, these will never more be so hard to me, if I shall have done something good, which may survive my troubled existence.  Yet it would be like the rest, if by ill health, want of means, or being driven prematurely from the field of observation, this hope also should be blighted.  I am prepared to have it so.  Only my efforts tend to the accomplishment of my object; and should they not be baffled, you will not see me before the summer of 1850.

Meantime, let the future be what it may, I live as well as I can in the present.

Farewell, my dear Richard; that you may lead a peaceful, aspiring, and generous life was ever, and must ever be, the prayer from the soul of your sister

MARGARET.

* * * * *

UNDAUNTED ROME.

Rome, May 6, 1819.

I write you from barricaded Rome.  The “Mother of Nations” is now at bay against them all.  Rome was suffering before.  The misfortunes of other regions of Italy, the defeat at Novara, preconcerted in hope to strike the last blow at Italian independence, the surrender and painful condition of Genoa, the money-difficulties,—­insuperable unless the government could secure confidence abroad as well as at home,—­prevented her people from finding that foothold for which they were ready.

The vacillations of France agitated them; still they could not seriously believe she would ever act the part she has.  We must say France, because, though many honorable men have washed their hands of all share in the perfidy, the Assembly voted funds to sustain the expedition to Civita Vecchia; and the nation, the army, have remained quiescent.  No one was, no one could be, deceived as to the scope of this expedition.  It was intended to restore the Pope to the temporal sovereignty, from which the people, by the use of suffrage, had deposed him.  No doubt the French, in case of success, proposed to temper the triumph of Austria and Naples, and stipulate for conditions that might soothe the Romans and make their act less odious.  They were probably deceived, also, by the representations of Gaeta, and believed that a large party, which had been intimidated by the republicans, would declare in favor of the Pope when they found themselves likely to be sustained.  But this last pretext can in noway avail them.  They landed at Civita Vecchia, and no one declared for the Pope.  They marched on Rome.  Placards were affixed within the walls by hands unknown, calling upon the Papal party to rise within the town.  Not a soul stirred.  The French had no excuse left for pretending to believe that the present government was not entirely acceptable to the people.  Notwithstanding, they assail the gates; they fire upon St. Peter’s, and their balls pierce the Vatican.  They were repulsed, as they deserved, retired in quick and shameful defeat, as surely the brave French soldiery could not, if they had not been demoralized by the sense of what an infamous course they were pursuing.