Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

!;188 EXCURSION TO PARISmorrow (but doesn't) ; lends me two gold sovereigns :Goo.d night ! Packing, shaving, fiddling hither andthither : it is past one o'clock before I get to bedand then there are many noises (some strange enough)to start and again start me : at length, in s^^ite oifate,sink into chaotic sleep, and lie so till Mason (* groomof chambers,' valet long known) call me : quarter toseven : up, and not a minute lostThursday morning (2 Oct. 1851). Swift, swift!The little brown valet has coffee ready ; I can eat onlya cubic inch of bread, lidM-drink a small egg ; drinknearly all the hot milk : that is my five-minutes' breakfastin the deadly press of hurry ; then into 2b fiacre,laquais de x>lace volunteering to attend me,—and soaway ! Early French streets ; some Place de Lafayette'(so far as I could read), then Terminus, still*in good time,—but such a bustle, such a fuss and uproarfor half an hour to come ! Tickets, dear (some£2 12s.), and difficult extremely, then sliding of yourluggage en queue along a lead counter (to be weighed),and quarrels about it. Ohone, ohone ! laquais andfiacre cost me 3^ + 1^ = 5 francs. Luggage (mistaken,I believe after all) is 1^ franc + endless, maddeningbotheration. At length you are admitted,hardly find a place ; and so away ! Eight of us inside: two John Bulls (one with toothache and afraidof air) ; one fat Frenchwoman, very sad-looking ; thenI ; opposite, young John Bull, and snappish oldyoungEnglish lady ; at the extreme right, two French