Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

;EXCUKSION TO PAEIS 165Tuileries garden there, and the gleam of Paris cityduring the night watches. I could have laughed atmyself, but indeed was more disposed to cry. Verystrange : I looked down on armed patrols stealthilyscouring the streets, saw the gleam of their arms ;saw sentries with their lanterns inside the gardenfelt as if I could have leapt down among them — preferredturning in again to my disconsolate truckle bed.Towards two o'clock the street noises died away ; butI was roused just at the point of sleep by some sharpnoise in my own room, which set all my nerves astir—I could not try sleep again till half-past four, whenagain a sharp noise smote me all asunder, which Idiscovered now to be my superfluous friend the heterodoxpejidulestriking (all wrong, but on a sharp loudbell, doubly and trebly loud to my poor distractednerves just on the act of closing into rest) the halfhour! This in waking time I had not noticed ; this,and the pendule, in toto, I now stopt ; but sleep wasaway; the outer and the mner noises were awakeagain; sleep was now none for me— perhaps somehour of half stupor between six and seven, at whichlatter hour I gave it up; and determined, first, tohave a tub to wash myself in ; secondly, not for anyconsideration to try again the feat of * sleeping ' inthat apartment for one. My controversies about thetub (baquet as I happily remembered to call it) werelong and resolute, with several successive lackeys towhom I jargoned in emphatic mixed lingo ; very