s. Probably the last summer
had found no human being alive, in all the track included between the
shores of Calabria and the northern Alps. My search was utterly vain, yet I
did not despond. Reason methought was on my side; and the chances were by
no means contemptible, that there should exist in some part of Italy a
survivor like myself--of a wasted, depopulate land. As therefore I
rambled through the empty town, I formed my plan for future operations. I
would continue to journey on towards Rome. After I should have satisfied
myself, by a narrow search, that I left behind no human being in the towns
through which I passed, I would write up in a conspicuous part of each,
with white paint, in three languages, that "Verney, the last of the race of
Englishmen, had taken up his abode in Rome."

In pursuance of this scheme, I entered a painter's shop, and procured
myself the paint. It is strange that so trivial an occupation should have
consoled, and even enlivened me. But grief renders one childish, despair
fantastic. To this simple inscription, I merely added the adjuration,
"Friend, come! I wait for thee!--Deh, vieni! ti aspetto!" On the
following morning, with something like hope for my companion, I quitted
Forli on my way to Rome. Until now, agonizing retrospect, and dreary
prospects for the future, had stung me when awake, and cradled me to my
repose. Many times I had delivered myself up to the tyranny of anguish--
many times I resolved a speedy end to my woes; and death by my own hands
was a remedy, whose practicability was even cheering to me. What could I
fear in the other world? If there were an hell, and I were doomed to it, I
should come an adept to the sufferance of its tortures--the act were
easy, the speedy and certain end of my deplorable tragedy. But now these
thoughts faded before the new born expectation. I went on my way, not as
before, feeling each hour, each minute, to be an age instinct with
incalculable pain.

As I wandered along the plain, at the foot of the Appennines--through
their vallies, and over their bleak summits, my path led me through a
country which had been trodden by heroes, visited and admired by thousands.
They had, as a tide, receded, leaving me blank and bare in the midst. But
why complain? Did I not hope?--so I schooled myself, even after the
enlivening spirit had really deserted me, and thus I was obliged to call up
all the fortitude I could command, and that was not much, to preve