LETTER XVII.
Voyage to Rome.
I left England, as you know, with very vague ideas of whither I should go. I did not dare entertain a hope that I should visit Rome. But,
“Thought by thought, and step by step led on,”
We have reached what Dr. Johnson says is the aim of every man’s desire.
My companions dreaded a long veturino journey, whose leisure is a false lure, since you always arrive too late, and set out too early, to see anything in the towns where you stop. I consented to go by sea, and Heaven rewarded the act of self-sacrifice.
We left Florence at twelve at might, in one of the most uncomfortable veturino carriages I ever had the ill fortune to enter. The moon was near its full, and its bright snow-like glare almost blinded my friends, who rode outside, and prevented them from sleeping. The morning dawned golden and still; and, although it was March, we anti-
