I am a native of Italy—a Venitian by birth; a wanderer by choice. During the political disturbances under the doge, Paolo Reniers, I obtained an office of considerable value; by which I was enabled to enjoy a handsome annuity. For some time the French forces, commanded by Bonaparte, had been endeavoring to take possession of Verona; and had already made some attempts on Venice; but these eruptions were if any thing the means of my promotion. Before the downfall of my patron, I acquired a fortune which placed me on a footing with the patricians of the day. Had heaven so ordained it, I might then have retired to my villa, and in peace and seclusion enjoyed the fruits of my industry; but the seeds of avarice were sown—I was destined to reap their harvest. The intrigues of political life were not sufficiently disgusting to deter me from applying for employment under the government, to the successor of Reniers. That wary craft which had rendered me so indispensable to this corrupt and imbecile monarch, was not overlooked by Lugi Manini; for in a country where duplicity is the chief point, in the education of individuals, to whom the official authority is entrusted; and where art and cunning are so universal as to render every man a match for his fellow, superiority of this kind is regarded with peculiar veneration. The satellites who swarmed about the court of Manini, were not slow in betraying their jealousy at the preference with which he regarded me; but where jealousy exists there is dissention; and even among my enemies I had my partisans. The rancor of political strife rendered me fierce and haughty; and few dared to avow their hostility in my presence. Hardened in dissimulation, I could at once assume the gentlest tones of friendship, or the most cutting sarcasm, and the coldest frown of dignity. Increase of influence gradually compelled those who at first resorted to the basest methods for my overthrow, to relinquish their attempts, and acquiesce in my measures. Power, however, was not my chimera. I had contracted an undying thirst for riches. I longed to regard myself as the master of millions. The very clink of gold was sweeter to me than the applause of an enraptured populace. Daily—hourly—my thoughts were concentrated on the darling object of my ambition. That cold and stern temperament, which, in my political schemes, had been fostered by every act of diplomacy, and every duty of my office, rendered me callous to all worldly allurements, save the desire of personal emolument.