elf in those spots which had been the abode of my fellow
creatures. I delighted to traverse street after street, to look up at the
tall houses, and repeat to myself, once they contained beings similar to
myself--I was not always the wretch I am now. The wide square of Forli,
the arcade around it, its light and pleasant aspect cheered me. I was
pleased with the idea, that, if the earth should be again peopled, we, the
lost race, would, in the relics left behind, present no contemptible
exhibition of our powers to the new comers.

I entered one of the palaces, and opened the door of a magnificent saloon.
I started--I looked again with renewed wonder. What wild-looking,
unkempt, half-naked savage was that before me? The surprise was momentary.

I perceived that it was I myself whom I beheld in a large mirror at the end
of the hall. No wonder that the lover of the princely Idris should fail to
recognize himself in the miserable object there pourtrayed. My tattered
dress was that in which I had crawled half alive from the tempestuous sea.
My long and tangled hair hung in elf locks on my brow--my dark eyes, now
hollow and wild, gleamed from under them--my cheeks were discoloured by
the jaundice, which (the effect of misery and neglect) suffused my skin,
and were half hid by a beard of many days' growth.

Yet why should I not remain thus, I thought; the world is dead, and this
squalid attire is a fitter mourning garb than the foppery of a black suit.
And thus, methinks, I should have remained, had not hope, without which I
do not believe man could exist, whispered to me, that, in such a plight, I
should be an object of fear and aversion to the being, preserved I knew not
where, but I fondly trusted, at length, to be found by me. Will my readers
scorn the vanity, that made me attire myself with some care, for the sake
of this visionary being? Or will they forgive the freaks of a half crazed
imagination? I can easily forgive myself--for hope, however vague, was so
dear to me, and a sentiment of pleasure of so rare occurrence, that I
yielded readily to any idea, that cherished the one, or promised any
recurrence of the former to my sorrowing heart. After such occupation, I
visited every street, alley, and nook of Forli. These Italian towns
presented an appearance of still greater desolation, than those of England
or France. Plague had appeared here earlier--it had finished its course,
and achieved its work much sooner than with u