390 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OP 



a tumbler, and placing a cigar between his fingers, gave 

 him a light. The vigour of his puffs astonished me ; his 

 strength as a smoker seemed unimpaired. With the 

 view of supporting him, I placed myself on the sofa be- 

 hind him. After a time, putting aside the half-consumed 

 cigar, he drank off the brandy-and-water, and with a 

 smile gleaming in his eye,* remarked " That's well 

 over." Soon afterwards he fell asleep. Quietly relin- 

 quishing my position as pillow, I left him in slumber. 

 This, to the best of my recollection, was the last time I 

 saw Thomas Carlyle. 



The disintegration of the firm masonry went rapidly 

 on, and at length the noble tower fell. Carlyle died on 

 February 5, 1881. 



Immediately afterwards I was visited by Mr. Froude, 

 who came to inform me of the arrangements made for 

 the funeral. In touching language he described the 

 placid beauty of the dead man's face, contrasting it 

 with the stern grandeur of Mrs. Carlyle's countenance 

 in her last sleep. The brave and sympathetic Stanley 

 wished to have him in Westminster Abbey, but this 

 Carlyle had steadily declined. Troops of friends from 

 all accessible places would have reverently made their 

 way to the burial-ground of Ecclefechan, but it was 

 thought desirable to make the funeral as quiet and as 

 simple as possible. Lecky, Froude, and myself formed a 

 small delegation from London. We journeyed together 

 northwards, halting at Carlisle for the night. Snow was 

 on the ground next morning as we proceeded by rail to 

 * I think it was the late Mr. Donne who once remarked to me 

 that Carlyle's beard, by hiding the grimly-set mouth, greatly im- 

 proved his aspect. "His eye was tender and sweet." A com- 

 parison of the frontispiece of Heroes and Hero-Worship with that 

 of Sartor Resartus (Library Editions) will illustrate Mr. Donne's 

 meaning and justify his observation. 



