A solitary being is by instinct a wanderer, and that I would become. A hope
of amelioration always attends on change of place, which would even lighten
the burthen of my life. I had been a fool to remain in Rome all this time:
Rome noted for Malaria, the famous caterer for death. But it was still
possible, that, could I visit the whole extent of earth, I should find in
some part of the wide extent a survivor. Methought the sea-side was the
most probable retreat to be chosen by such a one. If left alone in an
inland district, still they could not continue in the spot where their last
hopes had been extinguished; they would journey on, like me, in search of a
partner for their solitude, till the watery barrier stopped their further
progress.

To that water--cause of my woes, perhaps now to be their cure, I would
betake myself. Farewell, Italy!--farewell, thou ornament of the world,
matchless Rome, the retreat of the solitary one during long months!--to
civilized life--to the settled home and succession of monotonous days,
farewell! Peril will now be mine; and I hail her as a friend--death will
perpetually cross my path, and I will meet him as a benefactor; hardship,
inclement weather, and dangerous tempests will be my sworn mates. Ye
spirits of storm, receive me! ye powers of destruction, open wide your
arms, and clasp me for ever! if a kinder power have not decreed another
end, so that after long endurance I may reap my reward, and again feel my
heart beat near the heart of another like to me.

Tiber, the road which is spread by nature's own hand, threading her
continent, was at my feet, and many a boat was tethered to the banks. I
would with a few books, provisions, and my dog, embark in one of these and
float down the current of the stream into the sea; and then, keeping near
land, I would coast the beauteous shores and sunny promontories of the blue
Mediterranean, pass Naples, along Calabria, and would dare the twin perils
of Scylla and Charybdis; then, with fearless aim, (for what had I to lose?)
skim ocean's surface towards Malta and the further Cyclades. I would avoid
Constantinople, the sight of whose well-known towers and inlets belonged to
another state of existence from my present one; I would coast Asia Minor,
and Syria, and, passing the seven-mouthed Nile, steer northward again, till
losing sight of forgotten Carthage and deserted Lybia, I should reach the
pillars of Hercules. And then--no matter where--the