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.