THOMAS CAKLYLE. 361 



no more of this.' He arched his brows good-humouredly, 

 burst into laughter, and ended the discussion. I ac- 

 companied him to his bedroom, every chink and fissure 

 of which had been closed to stop out both light and 

 sound. 'I have no hope of sleep,' he said, * and I will 

 come to your room at seven in the morning.' My 

 reply was, 'I think you will sleep, and if so, I will 

 come to your room instead of your coming to mine.' 

 My hopes were mainly founded on the vigorous exercise 

 he had taken ; but the next day being Good Friday, I 

 also hoped for a mitigation of the whistle nuisance. 



At seven o'clock, accordingly, I stood at his door. 

 There was no sound. Returning at eight, I found the 

 same dead silence. At nine, hearing a rustle, I opened 

 his door and found him dressing. The change from 

 the previous morning was astonishing. Never before 

 or afterwards did I see Carlyle's countenance glow with 

 such happiness. It was seraphic. I have often thought 

 of it since. How in the case of a man possessing a 

 range of life wide enough to embrace the demoniac and 

 the godlike, a few hours' sound sleep can lift him from 

 the grovelling hell of the one into the serene heaven of 

 the other ! 1 his question of sleep or sleeplessness hides 

 many a tragedy. He looked at me with boundless 

 blessedness in his eyes and voice. ' My dear friend, I 

 am a totally new man ; I have slept nine hours with- 

 out once awaking.' That night's rest proved the pre- 

 lude and guarantee of his subsequent triumph at Edin- 

 burgh. 



We had been joined at Freystone by Huxley, 1 and 

 in due time started, all three together, for the beautiful 



1 And by the able and lamented Mr. Maclennan. Dr. Hirst also 

 paid a brief visit to Freystone, and was afterwards one of Carlyle's 

 hearers in Edinburgh. 



