1889 AT EASTBOURNE 99 



him still firm of tread, with grizzled head a little 

 stooped from his square shoulders, pacing the sea 

 wall with long strides, or renewing somewhat of his 

 strength as it again began to fail, in the keener air of 

 the downs, warmly defended against chill by a big 

 cap — for he had been suffering from his ears — and a 

 long rough coat. He writes (February 22) : "I have 

 bought a cap with flaps to protect my ears. I look 

 more "doggy ' than ever." And on March 3 : — 



We have had a lovely day, quite an Italian sky and 

 sea, with a good deal of Florentine east wind. I walked 

 up to the Signal House, and was greatly amused by a 

 young sheep-dog whose master could hardly get him 

 away from circling round me and staring at me with a 

 short dissatisfied bark every now and then. It is the 

 undressed wool of my coat bothers all the dogs. They 

 can't understand why a creature which smells so like a 

 sheep should walk on its hind legs. I wish I could have 

 relieved that dog's mind, but I did not see my way to 

 an explanation. 



From this time on, the effects of several years' 

 comparative rest became more perceptible. His 

 slowly returning vigour was no longer sapped by the 

 unceasing strain of multifarious occupations. And if 

 his recurrent ill-health sometimes seems too strongly 

 insisted on, it must be remembered that he had 

 always worked at the extreme limit of his powers — 

 the limit, as he used regretfully to say, imposed on 

 his brain by his other organs — and that after his 

 first breakdown he was never very far from a second. 

 When this finally came in 1884, his forces were so 



