"_December 5th_.--This place is extremely small,much more so than Falmouth even;but pretty,cheerful,and very mild in climate.There are a great many villas in and about the little Town,having three or four reception-rooms,eight or ten bedrooms;and costing about fifteen hundred or two thousand pounds each,and occupied by persons spending a thousand or more pounds a year.If the Country would acknowledge my merits by the gift of one of these,I could prevail on myself to come and live here;which would be the best move for my health I could make in England;but,in the absence of any such expression of public feeling,it would come rather dear."--_To Mrs.Fox again_.
"_December 22d_.--By the way,did you ever read a Novel?If you ever mean to do so hereafter,let it be Miss Martineau's _Deerbrook_.It is really very striking;and parts of it are very true and very beautiful.It is not so true,or so thoroughly clear and harmonious,among delineations of English middle-class gentility,as Miss Austen's books,especially as _Pride and Prejudice_,which I think exquisite;but it is worth reading._The hour and the Man_is eloquent,but an absurd exaggeration.--I hold out so valorously against this Scandinavian weather,that I deserve to be ranked with Odin and Thor;and fancy I may go to live at Clifton or Drontheim.Have you had the same icy desolation as prevails here?"_To W.Coningham,Esq_.
"_December 28th_.--Looking back to him [a deceased Uncle,father of his correspondent],as I now very often do,I feel strongly,what the loss of other friends has also impressed on me,how much Death deepens our affection;and sharpens our regret for whatever has been even slightly amiss in our conduct towards those who are gone.What trifles then swell into painful importance;how we believe that,could the past be recalled,life would present no worthier,happier task,than that of so bearing ourselves towards those we love,that we might ever after find nothing but melodious tranquillity breathing about their graves!Yet,too often,I feel the difficulty of always practicing such mild wisdom towards those who are still left me.--You will wonder less at my rambling off in this way,when I tell you that my little lodging is close to a picturesque old Church and Churchyard,where,every day,I brush past a tombstone,recording that an Italian,of Manferrato,has buried there a girl of sixteen,his only daughter:
_'L'unica speranza di mia vita_.'--No doubt,as you say,our Mechanical Age is necessary as a passage to something better;but,at least,do not let us go back."--At the New-year time,feeling unusually well,he returns to Clifton.
His plans,of course,were ever fluctuating;his movements were swift and uncertain.Alas,his whole life,especially his winter-life,had to be built as if on wavering drift-sand;nothing certain in it,except if possible the "two or three hours of work"snatched from the general whirlpool of the dubious four-and-twenty!
_To Dr.Carlyle_.
"_Clifton,January 10th_,1841.--I stood the sharp frost at Torquay with such entire impunity,that at last I took courage,and resolved to return home.I have been here a week,in extreme cold;and have suffered not at all;so that I hope,with care I may prosper in spite of medical prognostics,--if you permit such profane language.I am even able to work a good deal;and write for some hours every morning,by dint of getting up early,which an Arnott stove in my study enables me to do."--But at Clifton he cannot continue.Again,before long,the rude weather has driven him Southward;the spring finds him in his former haunts;doubtful as ever what to decide upon for the future;but tending evidently towards a new change of residence for household and self:--_To W.Coningham,Esq_.
"_Penzance,April 19th_,1841.--My little Boy and I have been wandering about between Torquay and this place;and latterly have had my Father for a few days with us,--he left us yesterday.In all probability I shall endeavor to settle either at Torquay,at Falmouth,or here;as it is pretty clear that I cannot stand the sharp air of Clifton,and still less the London east-winds.Penzance is,on the whole,a pleasant-looking,cheerful place;with a delightful mildness of air,and a great appearance of comfort among the people:the view of Mount's Bay is certainly a very noble one.Torquay would suit the health of my Wife and Children better;or else I should be glad to live here always,London and its neighborhood being impracticable."--Such was his second wandering winter;enough to render the prospect of a third at Clifton very uninviting.
With the Falmouth friends,young and old,his intercourse had meanwhile continued cordial and frequent.The omens were pointing towards that region at his next place of abode.Accordingly,in few weeks hence,in the June of this Summer,1841,his dubitations and inquirings are again ended for a time;he has fixed upon a house in Falmouth,and removed thither;bidding Clifton,and the regretful Clifton friends,a kind farewell.This was the _fifth_change of place for his family since Bayswater;the fifth,and to one chief member of it the last.Mrs.Sterling had brought him a new child in October last;and went hopefully to Falmouth,dreading _other_than what befell there.