respects; and I much doubt whether it will pay its expenses: but I

try to consider it as out of my hands, and not to fret myself about
it. I shall be very curious to see Carlyle's Tractate on _Chartism_;

which"--But we need not enter upon that.
Sterling's little Book was printed at his own expense;[23] published by

Moxon in the very end of this year. It carries an appropriate and
pretty Epigraph:--

"Feeling, Thought, and Fancy be
Gentle sister Graces three:

If these prove averse to me,
They will punish,--pardon Ye!"

He had dedicated the little Volume to Mr. Hare;--and he submitted very
patiently to the discouraging neglect with which it was received by

the world; for indeed the "Ye" said nothing audible, in the way of
pardon or other doom; so that whether the "sister Graces" were averse

or not, remained as doubtful as ever.
CHAPTER II.

TWO WINTERS.
As we said above, it had been hoped by Sterling's friends, not very

confidently by himself, that in the gentler air of Clifton his health
might so far recover as to enable him to dispense with autumnal

voyages, and to spend the year all round in a house of his own. These
hopes, favorable while the warm season lasted, broke down when winter

came. In November of this same year, while his little Volume was
passing through the press, bad and worse symptoms, spitting of blood

to crown the sad list, reappeared; and Sterling had to equip himself
again, at this late season, for a new flight to Madeira; wherein the

good Calvert, himself suffering, and ready on all grounds for such an
adventure, offered to accompany him. Sterling went by land to

Falmouth, meaning there to wait for Calvert, who was to come by the
Madeira Packet, and there take him on board.

Calvert and the Packet did arrive, in stormy January weather; which
continued wildly blowing for weeks; forbidding all egress Westward,

especially for invalids. These elemental tumults, and blustering wars
of sea and sky, with nothing but the misty solitude of Madeira in the

distance, formed a very discouraging outlook. In the mean while
Falmouth itself had offered so many resources, and seemed so tolerable

in climate and otherwise, while this wintry ocean looked so
inhospitable for invalids, it was resolved our voyagers should stay

where they were till spring returned. Which accordingly was done;
with good effect for that season, and also with results for the coming

seasons. Here again, from Letters to Knightsbridge, are some glimpses
of his winter-life:--

"_Falmouth, February 5th_, 1840.--I have been to-day to see a new
tin-mine, two or three miles off, which is expected to turn into a

copper-mine by and by, so they will have the two constituents of
bronze close together. This, by the way, was the 'brass' of Homer and

the Ancients generally, who do not seem to have known our brass made
of copper and zinc. Achilles in his armor must have looked like a

bronze statue.--I took Sheridan's advice, and did not go down the
mine."

"_February 15th_.--To some iron-works the other day; where I saw half
the beam of a great steam-engine, a piece of iron forty feet long and

seven broad, cast in about five minutes. It was a very striking
spectacle. I hope to go to Penzance before I leave this country, and

will not fail to tell you about it." He did make trial of Penzance,
among other places, next year; but only of Falmouth this.

"_February 20th_.--I am going on _asy_ here, in spite of a great
change of weather. The East-winds are come at last, bringing with

them snow, which has been driving about for the last twenty-four
hours; not falling heavily, nor lying long when fallen. Neither is it

as yet very cold, but I suppose there will be some six weeks of
unpleasant temperature. The marineclimate of this part of England

will, no doubt, modify and mollify the air into a happier sort of
substance than that you breathe in London.

"The large vessels that had been lying here for weeks, waiting for a
wind, have now sailed; two of them for the East Indies, and having

three hundred soldiers on board. It is a curious thing that the
long-continued westerly winds had so prevented the coasters arriving,

that the Town was almost on the point of a famine as to bread. The
change has brought in abundance of flour.--The people in general seem

extremely comfortable; their houses are excellent, almost all of
stone. Their habits are very little agricultural, but mining and

fishing seem to prosper with them. There are hardly any gentry here;
I have not seen more than two gentlemen's carriages in the Town;

indeed I think the nearest one comes from five miles off....
"I have been obliged to try to occupy myself with Natural Science, in

order to give some interest to my walks; and have begun to feel my way
in Geology. I have now learnt to recognize three or four of the

common kinds of stone about here, when I see them; but I find it
stupid work compared with Poetry and Philosophy. In the mornings,

however, for an hour or so before I get up, I generally light my
candle, and try to write some verses; and since I have been here, I

have put together short poems, almost enough for another small volume.
In the evenings I have gone on translating some of Goethe. But six or

seven hours spent on my legs, in the open air, do not leave my brain
much energy for thinking. Thus my life is a dull and unprofitable

one, but still better than it would have been in Madeira or on board
ship. I hear from Susan every day, and write to her by return of

post."
At Falmouth Sterling had been warmly welcomed by the well-known Quaker

family of the Foxes, principal people in that place, persons of
cultivated opulent habits, and joining to the fine purities and

pieties of their sect a reverence for human intelligence in all kinds;
to whom such a visitor as Sterling was naturally a welcome windfall.

The family had grave elders, bright cheery younger branches, men and
women; truly amiable all, after their sort: they made a pleasant

image of home for Sterling in his winter exile. "Most worthy,
respectable and highly cultivated people, with a great deal of money

among them," writes Sterling in the end of February; "who make the
place pleasant to me. They are connected with all the large Quaker

circle, the Gurneys, Frys, &c., and also with Buxton the Abolitionist.
It is droll to hear them talking of all the common topics of science,

literature, and life, and in the midst of it: 'Does thou know
Wordsworth?' or, 'Did thou see the Coronation?' or 'Will thou take

some refreshment?' They are very kind and pleasant people to know."
"Calvert," continues our Diarist, "is better than he lately was,

though he has not been at all laid up. He shoots little birds, and
dissects and stuffs them; while I carry a hammer, and break flints and

slates, to look for diamonds and rubies inside; and admire my success
in the evening, when I empty my great-coat pocket of its specimens.

On the whole, I doubt whether my physical proceedings will set the
Thames on fire. Give my love to Anthony's Charlotte; also remember me

affectionately to the Carlyles."--
At this time, too, John Mill, probably encouraged by Sterling, arrived

in Falmouth, seeking refuge of climate for a sickly younger Brother,
to whom also, while he continued there, and to his poor patient, the

doors and hearts of this kind family were thrown wide open. Falmouth,
during these winter weeks, especially while Mill continued, was an

unexpectedly engaging place to Sterling; and he left it in spring, for
Clifton, with a very kindly image of it in his thoughts. So ended,

better than it might have done, his first year's flight from the
Clifton winter.

In April, 1840, he was at his own hearth again; cheerily pursuing his
old labors,--struggling to redeem, as he did with a gallant constancy,

the available months and days, out of the wreck of so many that were
unavailable, for the business allotted him in this world. His swift,

decisive energy of character; the valiant rally he made again and ever
again, starting up fresh from amid the wounded, and cheerily storming

in anew, was admirable, and showed a noble fund of natural health amid
such an element of disease. Somehow one could never rightly fancy

that he was diseased; that those fatal ever-recurring downbreaks were