I io LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 



town during the season ; especially in Rome, where the daily con- 

 sumption and supply almost surpass belief. I have known seventeen 

 thousand quails brought to the eternal city in the course of one 

 morning. 



" Here I will close the scene, and return home. I have had an 

 adventure or two of very singular import, and I could wish to unfold 

 them to the eye of the curious reader, ere I bid him adieu for ever. 



" It has been aptly remarked by writers, that death will often 

 spare his victim when far from home, and slay him at last, close to 

 his own fireside. Thus fell poor Bruce, whom Abyssinian toils could 

 not subdue. Death, without a moment's warning, struck him down 

 at the foot of his own staircase. Sancho Panza was justly of 

 opinion, that there is nothing secure in this life. A few years ago 

 the jubilee, which takes place once in every fifty years, was to be 

 celebrated in the city of Bruges, and the Holy Blood of our 

 Redeemer was to be carried in procession with vast magnificence 

 through the streets. My two sisters had already set off before me, and 

 I was to follow them in the course of a few days ; urgent business 

 keeping me at home. So, in due time, I left Yorkshire for London, 

 and thence for Dover by the night train. The night was as dark as 

 pitch, for there was neither moon nor stars j all above being one 

 dense cloud. On my leaving the station to go on board the Belgian 

 steamer. I threw my Italian cloak over my shoulders, and with a 

 little portmanteau in one hand, and an umbrella in the other, I 

 inquired for the porter. But he had just been engaged that very 

 . moment by two gentlemen, who were on their way that night to 

 Calais ; so I thought that I could not do better than keep them 

 company. The porter asked to carry my portmanteau ; but as he 

 had already enough of weight upon his shoulders, I answered that 

 I would carry the little portmanteau myself. The Belgian boat was 

 moored a trifle ahead of the French steamer, and she burnt a blue 

 light. This he pointed out to me. ' You have only, sir,' said he, 

 ' to cross the little bridge close by here, and you will be on board 

 the Belgian steamer immediately.' I thanked him, and we parted 

 company. Following his instructions, I passed the wooden bridge ; 

 and when I supposed myself at the temporary gangway leading to 

 the vessel not being able to distinguish land from water, on account 



