red men most highly, indeed anyone of merit
was sure of his patronage. He revered the minister Marco, he had the
greatest respect for the memory of Lelio Caraffa, and of the Dukes of
Matalone, and he had provided handsomely for a nephew of the famous man
of letters Genovesi, in consideration of his uncle's merits.

Games of chance were forbidden; and one day he surprised a number of the
officers of his guard playing at faro. The young men were terrified at
the sight of the king, and would have hidden their cards and money.

"Don't put yourselves out," said the kindly monarch, "take care that
Tanucci doesn't catch you, but don't mind me."

His father was extremely fond of him up to the time when he was obliged
to resist the paternal orders in deference to State reasons.

Ferdinand knew that though he was the King of Spain's son, he was none
the less king of the two Sicilies, and his duties as king had the
prerogative over his duties as son.

Some months after the suppression of the Jesuits, he wrote his father a
letter, beginning:

"There are four things which astonish me very much. The first is that
though the Jesuits were said to be so rich, not a penny was found upon
them at the suppression; the second, that though the Scrivani of Naples
are supposed to take no fees, yet their wealth is immense; the third,
that while all the other young couples have children sooner or later, we
have none; and the fourth, that all men die at last, except Tanucci, who,
I believe, will live on in 'saecula saeculorum'."

The King of Spain shewed this letter to all the ministers and
ambassadors, that they might see that his son was a clever man, and he
was right; for a man who can write such a letter must be clever.

Two or three days later, the Chevalier de Morosini, the nephew of the
procurator, and sole heir of the illustrious house of Morosini, came to
Naples accompanied by his tutor Stratico, the professor of mathematics at
Padua, and the same that had given me a letter for his brother, the Pisan
professor. He stayed at the "Crocielles," and we were delighted to see
one another again.

Morosini, a young man of nineteen, was travelling to complete his
education. He had spent three years at Turin academy, and was now under
the superintendence of a man who could have introduced him to the whole
range of learning, but unhappily the will was wanting in the pupil. The
young Venetian loved women to excess, frequented the society of