was better with her affectionate nurse than with her cold and heartless mother. Notwithstanding which, he was much gratified when she was about the age of six months to observe, that she was generally willing to leave even Teresa to come to him; and as he afterwards said, he never lost the feeling of pleasure he experienced when first she called after him from the terrace on which her nurse was holding her, extending her little arms to him, and crying bitterly when he disappeared in order to come up the stairs to the place where she was; from that time, as he afterwards said, his heart was drawn more closely to this his youngest child, and it was always with mutual satisfaction that the father and daughter met henceforward, though, as I before said, he still neglected to bestow upon his little darling those cares which are due from a parent to his offspring.

I have said, that the family had resolved to take an excursion during the warm season every year, and to make their house at Nice only their residence for part of the year. Money was no object to them, they therefore retained their house, and always kept a few servants in it. Victoria and Teresa generally accompanied them in their summer excursion. On one or

two occasions they were however left at Nice, and it was probably on the first occasion of this kind that the idea suggested itself to Teresa, that she would endeavour to make her little nurseling a Roman Catholic, an idea which could not have been entertained with much prospect of success, had she not perceived how entirely the child was left to her management; for till Victoria was six years of age, it was not thought necessary to teach her even to read-her mother being always in the habit of saying whenever the education of the child was alluded to," She is not losing time, for she is learning three languages; she already speaks Italian to perfection, and with such volubility, that I am not able to follow her-she is almost as ready with French, and although she is not so prompt with English, yet she knows what we say even when we do not wish she should." But this was only what we may call a salvo to the conscience of the mother, who loved what she called pleasure, more than her own fair infant. People disagree very much in their notions of what is pleasant: that which is sweet and delightful to the children of God, being altogether the contrary to those who love the world; and perhaps there are now few families so large as that

of which we are speaking, of which every member is so entirely devoted to the world as this was. Some of the individuals of the family might perhaps have been naturally more amiable than others, but one and all loved and followed that alone which belonged to this present life. The ladies were never easy but when in company or preparing for company. Julia was to be educated to shine in company; and Mr. Morley was always in society, though his set was not the same as that of his mother and sisters. Mr. Rosebury was without doubt the most amiable of the family, but he had the weakness to allow himself to be entirely led by his wife. Julia had been taught to be cold and insolent to him, but George was very fond of his papa, and would often invite him to walk and talk with him, asking him questions, which, had they been followed up, might have led to something more than mere vanity; for this little boy thought a great deal, and was a great examiner into truth, wanting to know the difference between the Roman Catholic religion and that called Protestant, and inquiring closely into the authority which people had for worshipping the saints, whose images he saw in every direction.

The only day in the week in which this family were obliged to be quiet was Sunday. I do not know whether there was a place at Nice at that time for the English to meet for divine service, but by all accounts, the family of which we are now speaking, did not find out the place, if there were such a one; and as old Mrs. Morley used to say, "Sunday was always the longest day in all the week," for as she would express herself, "One cannot be reading good books all day, and if one takes a drive it will only last a few hours, and it is hardly thought creditable for the English to go to the Sunday balls of the nobility of Nice, so one hardly knows what to do with oneself;" and then the old lady would yawn and stretch, and commonly finish off the day with some sort of game, either of backgammon, or chess, or baggatelle, for she had half an idea, that it would not be quite right to let people see her play at cards on a Sunday and thus even the form of religion had quite passed away from this family, in so muchso, that the Roman Catholic servants, and amongst the rest Teresa, used to say of their masters and mistresses, that they were infidels; which horrible

epithet, to the discredit of the carelessness of English travellers, is now too often bestowed upon Protestants on the continent.

Such then was the family in which Victoria was reared; her relations being wholly without even the forms of religion, and her nurse being (as will be seen in the sequel) one who firmly believed, that there was no salvation beyond the pale of the Papal church.

It can hardly, I trust, be necessary to point out to my reader, that Rome is now the capital city of the Pope's dominions, as it once was of all the civilized earth, the chief seat of the great Roman Catholic Anti-christian heresy. The head of this church is the Pope, who pretends to derive his authority from St. Peter, alleging as the ground of this authority, two verses in the gospels which are not thoroughly understood, but which, at any rate, have nothing to do with St. Peter, who was never bishop of Rome, as may be proved from history.

However, it seems that the Bishops of Rome (who are called Pope, or Papa, or Father,) have had influence enough for ages past to persuade the people that they are successors of St. Peter, and that they have received the