My person, with its human
powers and features, seem to me a monstrous excrescence of nature. How
express in human language a woe human being until this hour never knew! How
give intelligible expression to a pang none but I could ever understand!--
No one has entered Rome. None will ever come. I smile bitterly at the
delusion I have so long nourished, and still more, when I reflect that I
have exchanged it for another as delusive, as false, but to which I now
cling with the same fond trust.

Winter has come again; and the gardens of Rome have lost their leaves--
the sharp air comes over the Campagna, and has driven its brute inhabitants
to take up their abode in the many dwellings of the deserted city--frost
has suspended the gushing fountains--and Trevi has stilled her eternal
music. I had made a rough calculation, aided by the stars, by which I
endeavoured to ascertain the first day of the new year. In the old out-worn
age, the Sovereign Pontiff was used to go in solemn pomp, and mark the
renewal of the year by driving a nail in the gate of the temple of Janus.
On that day I ascended St. Peter's, and carved on its topmost stone the
aera 2100, last year of the world!

My only companion was a dog, a shaggy fellow, half water and half
shepherd's dog, whom I found tending sheep in the Campagna. His master was
dead, but nevertheless he continued fulfilling his duties in expectation of
his return. If a sheep strayed from the rest, he forced it to return to the
flock, and sedulously kept off every intruder. Riding in the Campagna I had
come upon his sheep-walk, and for some time observed his repetition of
lessons learned from man, now useless, though unforgotten. His delight was
excessive when he saw me. He sprung up to my knees; he capered round and
round, wagging his tail, with the short, quick bark of pleasure: he left
his fold to follow me, and from that day has never neglected to watch by
and attend on me, shewing boisterous gratitude whenever I caressed or
talked to him. His pattering steps and mine alone were heard, when we
entered the magnificent extent of nave and aisle of St. Peter's. We
ascended the myriad steps together, when on the summit I achieved my
design, and in rough figures noted the date of the last year. I then turned
to gaze on the country, and to take leave of Rome. I had long determined to
quit it, and I now formed the plan I would adopt for my future career,
after I had left this magnificent abode.