About this time, Dr. Skirving, an English physician, whom I had the pleasure of knowing in Edinburgh, and an intimate acquaintance of Madame M⸺, arrived with a view of establishing himself in practice at Nice. He had originally become known at this place, in consequence of having been detained in it by the illness of a friend, who in an intended voyage from Civita Vecchia to Marseilles, ruptured a blood-vessel on his lungs, by the exertions of sea-sickness, and was compelled to make this port, where, after lingering some months, he died. Pleased with the situation, and at the solicitations of his friends, he determined to make Nice his permanent residence, and having arranged his affairs in England, was now arrived to carry the plan into execution. With a cultivated and liberal mind, Dr. S⸺ is possessed of superior professional abilities; I had the pleasure of witnessing an interesting recovery, under his care, in the person of a lady who had an abscess on her lungs. At one time she was considered so near dissolution, that some of her friends were importunate to have the last consolations of religion administered to her; but my friend, aware of the danger of agitating her mind at this critical moment, entreated that the measure might be deferred, and she was afterward restored to comparative good health. If any apology is necessary for this digression, it must be placed to the score of the warmest friendship; indeed, I should feel myself ungrateful, did I neglect to acknowledge this gentleman’s undeviating kindness to myself. The 15th of October now arrived, which, being St. Therese’s day, was the fête of Madame M⸺, as well as the anniversary of my birth. The former circumstance it may be necessary to explain. It is customary in this country to name children after some favourite saint, to whose especial protection they may thus be supposed to be committed; and hence, when the annual fête of their patron arrives, it is made a day of congratulation to themselves.