with fierce saturnalian acclaim of soldiery:" after which they

proceeded together to London without farther apprehension;--there to
witness, in due time, the tar-barrels of Waterloo, and other phenomena

that followed.
Captain Sterling never quitted London as a residence any more; and

indeed was never absent from it, except on autumnal or other
excursions of a few weeks, till the end of his life. Nevertheless his

course there was as yet by no means clear; nor had his relations with
the heads of the _Times_, or with other high heads, assumed a form

which could be called definite, but were hanging as a cloudy maze of
possibilities, firm substance not yet divided from shadow. It

continued so for some years. The Sterling household shifted twice or
thrice to new streets or localities,--Russell Square or Queen Square,

Blackfriars Road, and longest at the Grove, Blackheath,-- before the
vapors of Wellesley promotions and such like slowly sank as useless

precipitate, and the firm rock, which was definiteemployment, ending
in lucrative co-proprietorship and more and more important connection

with the _Times_ Newspaper, slowly disclosed itself.
These changes of place naturally brought changes in John Sterling's

schoolmasters: nor were domestic tragedies wanting, still more
important to him. New brothers and sisters had been born; two little

brothers more, three little sisters he had in all; some of whom came
to their eleventh year beside him, some passed away in their second or

fourth: but from his ninth to his sixteenth year they all died; and
in 1821 only Anthony and John were left.[5] How many tears, and

passionate pangs, and soft infinite regrets; such as are appointed to
all mortals! In one year, I find, indeed in one half-year, he lost

three little playmates, two of them within one month. His own age was
not yet quite twelve. For one of these three, for little Edward, his

next younger, who died now at the age of nine, Mr. Hare records that
John copied out, in large school-hand, a _History of Valentine and

Orson_, to beguile the poor child's sickness, which ended in death
soon, leaving a sad cloud on John.

Of his grammar and other schools, which, as I said, are hardly worth
enumerating in comparison, the most important seems to have been a Dr.

Burney's at Greenwich; a large day-schoo] and boarding-school, where
Anthony and John gave their attendance for a year or two (1818-19)

from Blackheath. "John frequently did themes for the boys," says
Anthony, "and for myself when I was aground." His progress in all

school learning was certain to be rapid, if he even moderately took to
it. A lean, tallish, loose-made boy of twelve; strange alacrity,

rapidity and joyouseagerness looking out of his eyes, and of all his
ways and movements. I have a Picture of him at this stage; a little

portrait, which carries its verification with it. In manhood too, the
chief expression of his eyes and physiognomy was what I might call

alacrity, cheerfulrapidity. You could see, here looked forth a soul
which was winged; which dwelt in hope and action, not in hesitation or

fear. Anthony says, he was "an affectionate and gallant kind of boy,
adventurous and generous, daring to a singular degree." Apt enough

withal to be "petulant now and then;" on the whole, "very
self-willed;" doubtless not a little discursive in his thoughts and

ways, and "difficult to manage."
I rather think Anthony, as the steadier, more substantial boy, was the

Mother's favorite; and that John, though the quicker and cleverer,
perhaps cost her many anxieties. Among the Papers given me, is an old

browned half-sheet in stiff school hand, unpunctuated, occasionally
ill spelt,--John Sterling's earliest remaining Letter,--which gives

record of a crowning escapade of his, the first and the last of its
kind; and so may be inserted here. A very headlong adventure on the

boy's part; so hasty and so futile, at once audacious and
impracticable; emblematic of much that befell in the history of the

man!
"_To Mrs. Sterling, Blackheath_.

"21st September, 1818.
"DEAR MAMMA,--I am now at Dover, where I arrived this morning about

seven o'clock. When you thought I was going to church, I went down
the Kent Road, and walked on till I came to Gravesend, which is

upwards of twenty miles from Blackheath; at about seven o'clock in the
evening, without having eat anything the whole time. I applied to an

inkeeper (_sic_) there, pretending that I had served a haberdasher in
London, who left of (_sic_) business, and turned me away. He believed

me; and got me a passage in the coach here, for I said that I had an
Uncle here, and that my Father and Mother were dead;--when I wandered

about the quays for some time, till I met Captain Keys, whom I asked
to give me a passage to Boulogne; which he promised to do, and took me

home to breakfast with him: but Mrs. Keys questioned me a good deal;
when I not being able to make my story good, I was obliged to confess

to her that I had run away from you. Captain Keys says that he will
keep me at his house till you answer my letter.

"J. STERLING."
Anthony remembers the business well; but can assign no origin to

it,--some penalty, indignity or cross put suddenly on John, which the
hasty John considered unbearable. His Mother's inconsolable weeping,

and then his own astonishment at such a culprit's being forgiven, are
all that remain with Anthony. The steady historical style of the

young runaway of twelve, narrating merely, not in the least
apologizing, is also noticeable.

This was some six months after his little brother Edward's death;
three months after that of Hester, his little sister next in the

family series to him: troubled days for the poor Mother in that small
household on Blackheath, as there are for mothers in so many

households in this world! I have heard that Mrs. Sterling passed much
of her time alone, at this period. Her husband's pursuits, with his

Wellesleys and the like, often carrying him into Town and detaining
him late there, she would sit among her sleeping children, such of

them as death had still spared, perhaps thriftily plying her needle,
full of mournfulaffectionate night-thoughts,--apprehensive too, in

her tremulous heart, that the head of the house might have fallen
among robbers in his way homeward.

CHAPTER IV.
UNIVERSITIES: GLASGOW; CAMBRIDGE.

At a later stage, John had some instruction from a Dr. Waite at
Blackheath; and lastly, the family having now removed into Town, to

Seymour Street in the fashionable region there, he "read for a while
with Dr. Trollope, Master of Christ's Hospital;" which ended his

school history.
In this his ever-changing course, from Reece at Cowbridge to Trollope

in Christ's, which was passed so nomadically, under ferulas of various
color, the boy had, on the whole, snatched successfully a fair share

of what was going. Competent skill in construing Latin, I think also
an elementary knowledge of Greek; add ciphering to a small extent,

Euclid perhaps in a rather imaginary condition; a swift but not very
legible or handsome penmanship, and the copiousprompt habit of

employing it in all manner of unconscious English prose composition,
or even occasionally in verse itself: this, or something like this,

he had gained from his grammar-schools: this is the most of what they
offer to the poor young soul in general, in these indigent times. The

express schoolmaster is not equal to much at present,--while the
_un_express, for good or for evil, is so busy with a poor little

fellow! Other departments of schooling had been infinitely more
productive, for our young friend, than the gerund-grinding one. A

voracious reader I believe he all along was,--had "read the whole
Edinburgh Review" in these boyish years, and out of the circulating

libraries one knows not what cartloads; wading like Ulysses towards
his palace "through infinite dung." A voracious observer and

participator in all things he likewise all along was; and had had his
sights, and reflections, and sorrows and adventures, from Kaimes

Castle onward,--and had gone at least to Dover on his own score.
_Puer bonae spei_, as the school-albums say; a boy of whom much may be

hoped? Surely, in many senses, yes. A frank veracity is in him,
truth and courage, as the basis of all; and of wild gifts and graces

there is abundance. I figure him a brilliant, swift, voluble,
affectionate and pleasant creature; out of whom, if it were not that

symptoms of delicate health already show themselves, great things
might be made. Promotions at least, especially in this country and

epoch of parliaments and eloquent palavers, are surely very possible
for such a one!

Being now turned of sixteen, and the family economics getting yearly
more propitious and flourishing, he, as his brother had already been,

was sent to Glasgow University, in which city their Mother had
connections. His brother and he were now all that remained of the