Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

—EXCURSION TO PAEIS 181many streets, which to look upon -was a real dramato me,—so many queer stone objects, queer flesh-andbloodones, seen just once and never again at all!Home about five, to dine with Lady Sandwich atseven ;I flung myself on bed, and actually caught afew minutes of sleep.Lady Sandwich's dinner was wholly in the Frenchfashion, this was its whole result for me,—to see sucha thing once. Company, besides us two who enteredfirst :Marquis Villa-real, a thick Portuguese man withbig hoary head, and boring black eyes (glitter of blackglass), a stm'dy man, long ambassador in England,spoke English—had he had anything to say for me :M. and Mme. Thiers, madame a brunette of forty, prettyenough of her kind, an insignificant kind, hardly spokewith her; lastly, a Scotch Miss EUice (' Bear's ') ; andour two ' distinctions,' Merimee and Laborde, with aComte (something) Eoget, a poor thin man with twovoices, bass and treble alternating, who said almostnothing with either of them.I gathered a sliceof which aKickshaws, out of whichof undone beef, wines enough, outdrop of good sherry and tumbler of vi7iordinaire ; talk worth nothing, tolerable only had onenot been obliged to manufacture French. Womenand men together, all suddenly rise from table,pushing back their chairs with fracas ; then to thedrawing-room for coffee and talk with Thiers andMerimee, who said, or could say, nothmg notable;heartily glad to get away, with twenty drops of some