t my son
would become his own child, if I could obtain for him from the queen a
bishopric in his native country, and he added that it would be very easy
to succeed if I could induce the sovereign to recommend him to her
daughter, the queen of Naples.

"Full of trust in the Almighty, I threw myself at the feet of her
majesty, who granted me her gracious protection. She wrote to her
daughter, and the worthy friar has been appointed by the Pope to the
bishopric of Monterano. Faithful to his promise, the good bishop will
take you with him about the middle of next year, as he passes through
Venice to reach Calabria. He informs you himself of his intentions in the
enclosed letter. Answer him immediately, my dear son, and forward your
letter to me; I will deliver it to the bishop. He will pave your way to
the highest dignities of the Church, and you may imagine my consolation
if, in some twenty or thirty years, I had the happiness of seeing you a
bishop, at least! Until his arrival, M. Grimani will take care of you. I
give you my blessing, and I am, my dear child, etc., etc."

The bishop's letter was written in Latin, and was only a repetition of my
mother's. It was full of unction, and informed me that he would tarry but
three days in Venice.

I answered according to my mother's wishes, but those two letters had
turned my brain. I looked upon my fortune as made. I longed to enter the
road which was to lead me to it, and I congratulated myself that I could
leave my country without any regret. Farewell, Venice, I exclaimed; the
days for vanity are gone by, and in the future I will only think of a
great, of a substantial career! M. Grimani congratulated me warmly on my
good luck, and promised all his friendly care to secure a good
boarding-house, to which I would go at the beginning of the year, and
where I would wait for the bishop's arrival.

M. de Malipiero, who in his own way had great wisdom, and who saw that in
Venice I was plunging headlong into pleasures and dissipation, and was
only wasting a precious time, was delighted to see me on the eve of going
somewhere else to fulfil my destiny, and much pleased with my ready
acceptance of those new circumstances in my life. He read me a lesson
which I have never forgotten. "The famous precept of the Stoic
philosophers," he said to me, "'Sequere Deum', can be perfectly explained
by these words: 'Give yourself up to whatever fate offers to you,
provided you do not feel an inv