Thus, including the orphans of both sexes, at _St. Michael de Termini_ and other asylums, pupils are in the proportion of one to ten inhabitants. This is not inferior to Paris, and surpasses Berlin, so much spoken of as a seat of education. This Prussian (now German capital) reckoned, in 1875, only eighty-five thousand scholars for a population of nine hundred and seventy-four thousand souls, or ten scholars to one hundred and fourteen citizens. The Godless schools, established by the new rulers, have impeded, only to a certain extent, the development given to education by the Government of Pius IX. In the poorer quarters of the city some parties have been either intimidated by the threats of the _Department of Charity_, or gained by the offer of bounties to themselves and a gratuitous breakfast to their children. But, generally, the people of Rome still resist, and several Christian schools have considerably increased since 1870, the number of their pupils. This is all the more remarkable, as the ruling faction showed a strong determination to put an end entirely to Christian education. By the end of 1873, the usurping government had confiscated more than one hundred monasteries, convents, and other establishments of public education. A Lyceum was set up in place of the celebrated Roman College, from which its proprietors, the Rev. Fathers of the Society of Jesuits, were finally expelled in 1874. The better to show their _animus_ on the occasion, the new Rulers tore down a magnificent piece of sculpture, in marble, which adorned the gate, and on which was engraved the blessed name of the Saviour, replacing it by the escutcheon in wood of Victor Emmanuel. As if to give zest to robbery, the Godless tyrants proposed that the professors of the Roman College should continue their lessons, as functionaries of the Italian government, and after having qualified by accepting diplomas from a lay university. It would, indeed, have been comical to see such men as Secchi, Franzelin, Tarquini, and many, besides, the first professors in the world, seated on scholars’ benches, to be examined by the semi-barbarous officials, whether civil or military, of the Piedmontese King. Pius IX., although pressed by many wants, provided an asylum for science. He called together the Jesuit Fathers who had been dispersed, in the halls of the American and German Colleges. There, although somewhat pinched for room, they continued their international courses, the most extensive that ever were known. The new Rulers, however, it is only proper to observe, never dared to drive Father Secchi from his observatory.