THOMAS CARLYLE. 389 



with the brisk and fierce alacrity of former times. On 

 one occasion when I called, this was specially notice- 

 able. He was seated before the fire, with Mr. Brown- 

 ing * for his companion. We entered into conversation, 

 which, in Carlyle's case, was limited to the answering 

 of a question addressed to him now and then. I was 

 aware of the poet's habit of early rising, and of his 

 hard work, and I wished to know something of the 

 antecedents of so strenuous and so illustrious a life. 

 Mr. Browning's father and grandfather came thus to be 

 spoken of. Carlyle seemed at length to rouse himself. 

 " Browning," he said, " it was your ancestor that broke 

 the boom stretched across the Foyle, and relieved 

 Derry, when the city was besieged by James's army." 

 He named the ship. " Surely not," I said ; " it was the 

 Dartmouth." In saying this, I relied more upon songs 

 committed to memory in boyhood f than upon historical 

 knowledge. Carlyle was right. The relief of Derry is 

 described by Macaulay, who has given honour to whom 

 honour is due. 



One other trivial item, almost the last, may be 

 here set down. In his days of visible sinking, I took 

 down to him a small supply of extremely old pale 

 brandy from the stores of Justerini & Brooks, to- 

 gether with a few of the best cigars that I could find. 

 On visiting him subsequently, I found that he had 

 hardly touched either the one or the other. Thinking 

 tbem worth a trial, I mixed some brandy and water in 



* Vigorous when this page was written ; now, alas ! no more. 

 The reverent affection with which the poet spoke of, and to, 

 Carlyle was a delightful feature of this interview. 



f The strophe on which ray opinion was founded runs thus : 

 " The Dartmouth spreads her snow-white sail, 



Her purple pendant flying O, 

 While we the dauntless heroes hail. 

 Who saved us all from dying 0." 



