ard by a _bon mot_ and a kick. The Roman
prince has an office, with shelves, desks, and clerks, and devotes
some hours a day to business, examining accounts, poring over
parchments, and signing papers. But being at once incapable and
uneducated, his zeal serves but to liberate the rogues about him from
responsibility. I heard of a nobleman who had inherited an enormous
fortune, who condemned himself to the labor of a clerk at L50 a year,
who remained faithful to his desk even to extreme old age, and who,
thanks to some blunder or other in management, died insolvent.

Pity them if you please, but cast not the stone at them. They are such
as education has made them. Look at those brats of various ages from
six to ten, walking along the Corso in double file, between a couple
of Jesuits. They are embryo Roman nobles. Handsome as little Cupids,
in spite of their black coats and white neckcloths, they will all grow
up alike, under the shadow of their pedagogue's broad-brimmed hat.

Already are their minds like a well-raked garden, from which ideas
have been carefully rooted out. Their hearts are purged alike of good
and evil passions. Poor little wretches, they will not even have any
vices.

As soon as they shall have passed their last examinations, and
obtained their diplomas of ignorance, they will be dressed in the
latest London fashions, and be turned out into the public promenades.
They will pace for ever the pavement of the Corso, they will wear out
the alleys of the Pincian Hill, the Villa Borghese, and the Villa
Pamphili. They will ride, drive, and walk about, armed with a whip,
eye-glass, or cane, as may be, until they are made to marry. Regular
at Mass, assiduous at the theatre, you may see them smile, gape,
applaud, make the sign of the cross, with an equal absence of emotion.
They are almost all inscribed on the list of some religious fraternity
or other. They belong to no club, play timidly, rarely make a parade
of social irregularities, drink without enthusiasm, and never ruin
themselves by horse-racing. In short, their general conduct is beyond
all praise; and the life of dolls made to say "Papa!" and "Mama!" is
equally irreproachable.

One fine day they attain their twenty-fifth year. At this age, an
American has already tried his hand at a dozen trades, made four
fortunes, and at least one bankruptcy, has gone through a couple of
campaigns, had a lawsuit, established a new religious sect, killed
half-a-d