The Last Man


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in a flame. Before it had been a rumour; but now in words uneraseable, in  
definite and undeniable print, the knowledge went forth. Its obscurity of  
situation rendered it the more conspicuous: the diminutive letters grew  
gigantic to the bewildered eye of fear: they seemed graven with a pen of  
iron, impressed by fire, woven in the clouds, stamped on the very front of  
the universe.  
The English, whether travellers or residents, came pouring in one great  
revulsive stream, back on their own country; and with them crowds of  
Italians and Spaniards. Our little island was filled even to bursting. At  
first an unusual quantity of specie made its appearance with the emigrants;  
but these people had no means of receiving back into their hands what they  
spent among us. With the advance of summer, and the increase of the  
distemper, rents were unpaid, and their remittances failed them. It was  
impossible to see these crowds of wretched, perishing creatures, late  
nurslings of luxury, and not stretch out a hand to save them. As at the  
conclusion of the eighteenth century, the English unlocked their hospitable  
store, for the relief of those driven from their homes by political  
revolution; so now they were not backward in affording aid to the victims  
of a more wide-spreading calamity. We had many foreign friends whom we  
eagerly sought out, and relieved from dreadful penury. Our Castle became an  
asylum for the unhappy. A little population occupied its halls. The revenue  
of its possessor, which had always found a mode of expenditure congenial to  
his generous nature, was now attended to more parsimoniously, that it might  
embrace a wider portion of utility. It was not however money, except  
partially, but the necessaries of life, that became scarce. It was  
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