[135a] In Hamlet, ii. 2. 337, ‘Whose lungs are tickle o’ the sear.’
[135b] ‘Read rascal in the motions of his back,
And scoundrel in the supple-sliding knee.’—Sea Dreams.
[136] Thus far written in pencil by Carlyle himself. The rest of the letter except the signature and postscript is in Mr. Froude’s hand.
[139a] This appears to be a mistake.
[139b] At Whitsuntide.
[139c] As Thackeray used to call Carlyle.
[140] Old Kensington.
[141a] In 1873 he wrote to Miss Thackeray,
‘Only yesterday I lighted upon some mention of your Father in the Letters of that mad man of Genius Morton, who came to a sudden and terrible end in Paris not long after. He was a good deal in Coram Street, and no one admired your Father more, nor made so sure of his ‘doing something’ at last, so early as 1842. A Letter of Jan. 22/45 says: “I hear of Thackeray at Rome. Once there, depend upon it, he will stay there some time. There is something glutinous in the soil of Rome, that, like the sweet Dew that lies on the lime-leaf, ensnares the Butterfly Traveller’s foot.” Which is not so bad, is it? And again, still in England, and harping on Rome, whose mere name, he says, “moves the handle of the Pump of Tears in him” (one of his grotesque fancies), he suddenly bethinks him (Feb. 4/45). “This is the last day of Carnival, Thackeray is walking down the Corso with his hands in his Breeches pockets: stopping to look at some little Child. At night, millions of Moccoletti, dasht about with endless Shouts and Laughter, etc.”’
[144] Byron’s verses on Rogers.