On Sunday evening, when the great promenade takes place along the Corso, where, a week ago, there was hardly a male mouth without a cigar or cheroot or cigarette inserted in it, I only noticed four smokers in the Corso crowd, and they were all foreigners.  The practice is suppressed not only in the streets but in the cafes.  For the benefit of the weaker brethren, who cannot screw up their patriotism to total abstinence, pipes are allowed, as the Government profit on tobacco is very small compared with that on cigars.  The Italians, however, are not much of pipe-smokers, and the tobacconists are in despair at the total absence of customers.  Of course, the partisans of the Government prophesy that the movement will end in smoke, but at present the laugh is on the other side.

March 10.

The Society for the Suppression of Smoking, who by the way send their tracts to the reading-rooms here, of all places in the world, will regret to learn that the Roman Anti-Tobacco Crusade is to expire on and after Sunday next.  The leaders of the liberal party have, I think, acted wisely in contenting themselves with an exhibition of their union and power and then withdrawing from the contest.  The loss to the Government by the discontinuance of smoking was only an indirect and eventual one; on the other hand, the company, who farm the Tobacco monopoly, would have been ruined by the progress of the movement, and had already been obliged to dismiss a large proportion of their work-people.  The tobacconists and street-hawkers of cigars were deprived of their livelihood, and the misery and consequent ill-will created amongst the poor of Rome by keeping up the prohibition would have been serious.  Then, too, perhaps it was thought advisable not to impose too heavy a trial on patriotic ardour.  Smoke is meat and drink to a Roman, his first care in the morning, his occupation by day, and his last thought at night.  Yet you may truly say, that during the time of its prohibition the whole city willingly gave up smoking.  If, in order to testify political dissatisfaction, the whole of London were to leave off beer-drinking by private agreement, the expression of feeling would be hardly a more remarkable one.

CHAPTER XIII.  THE EMEUTE OF ST JOSEPH’S DAY.

The feast of San Giuseppe is the only festa day in Lent, when the Romans eat fried fish in honour of the occasion,—­St Joseph alone knows why.  Henceforth the day will have other and less pleasing associations.  The garland-wreathed stalls, with the open ovens and the frizzling fritters, were reared as usual at every corner; the shops were closed; the osterias were full; the streets were crowded with holiday-people in holiday-attire, and the day was warm and bright like an early summer-day in England, though it was only the 19th of March.  The news of the Romagna elections, with their overwhelming majority in favour of annexation to Sardinia, had