country. Permit me to describe myself.

I am an Italian and a gentleman, and my age is thirty. My main fault is,
that I am able to do much in too many directions. I play admirably upon
several instruments, and my little original compositions are admitted
to show great undeveloped talent. My verses in four languages are also
admitted to show great undeveloped talent. As a painter or a sculptor
I might have made fame certain. I am merry and generous, and slow to
offence, an unmeasured braggart, careless about money matters, without
dignity, but the soul of honour. I am also your obedient servant. Permit
me so to subscribe myself--Your obedient servant, Giovanni Calvotti.

My attic is uncarpeted, and its general aspect is sordid. It contains
a bed, a table, a chair, a chest of drawers, a grand piano, a violin, a
violoncello, my pipes, my tobacco, my writing materials, and--me. Stay!
Hidden for the moment from my glance beneath the grand piano are the
tools by which I live: my easel, my porte-couleur, my palette, canvas,
and brushes. My estimable uncle round the corner is not a judge of art.
It is my weakness that I cannot paint bad pictures. I linger sometimes
for a whole day hungry--sometimes even without tobacco--touching and
again touching the ripened beauties of my canvas child, before I can
dare to leave it. I am a hungry amateur, but that is no reason why I
should be false to the principles of art. Like my playing upon four
instruments, and like my verses in four languages, my painting is
admitted to show great talent--as yet only partially developed. Upon
each of my works my estimable uncle advances me the sum of twelve
shillings and sixpence. I paint one picture per week. In consideration
of the restricted character of my wardrobe, my landlady is so obliging
as to send my works to the only dealer with whom I can at present do
business. I had never known until this morning who it was that acted as
my ambassador. I have told you already that I am of a merry temperament.
I snap my fingers at evil fortune. I despise the goddess Circumstance.
Seeking to do me an evil turn this morning she has benefited me, and I
am contented in spite of her. Good gracious! Is a man to lose everything
because his stomach is empty? The goddess Circumstance shall not keep
my heart empty, let her keep my shelves as bare as she will. My Lady of
Circumstance, Giovanni Calvotti proffers to you a polite but irrevocable
defiance!

This morning