im, "House of Lords? You ought to have said 'House of
Devils.'"

I have made several visits in London since that time, one quite
recently, and I have observed that people now speak of receptions, and
not of routs. I think, also, that the pronunciation insisted upon by
Sydney Smith has become a thing of the past.

I think that Mrs. Sydney Smith must have called or have left a card at
our lodgings, for I distinctly remember a morning call which I made at
her house. The great wit was at home on this occasion, as was also his
only surviving son. An elder son had been born to him, who probably
inherited something of his character and ability, and whose death he
laments in one or more of his published letters. The young man whom I
saw at this time was spoken of as much devoted to the turf, and the only
saying of his that I have ever heard quoted was his question as to how
long it took Nebuchadnezzar to get into condition after he had been out
to grass.

Mrs. Smith received me very pleasantly. She seemed a grave and silent
woman, presenting in this respect a striking contrast to her husband. I
knew very little of the political opinions of the latter, and innocently
inquired whether he and Mrs. Smith went sometimes to court. The question
amused him. He said to his wife, "My dear, Mrs. Howe wishes to know
whether you and I go to court." To me he said, "No, madam. That is a
luxury which I deny myself."

I last saw Sydney Smith at an evening party at which, as usual, he was
surrounded by friends. A very amiable young American was present,
apropos of whom I heard Mr. Smith say:--

"I think I shall go over to America and settle in Boston. Perkins here
says that he'll patronize me."

Thomas Carlyle was also one of our earliest visitors. Some time before
leaving home, Dr. Howe had received from him a letter expressing his
great interest in the story of Laura Bridgman as narrated by Charles
Dickens. In this letter he mentioned Laura's childish question, "Do
horses sit up late?" In the course of his conversation he said, laughing
heartily: "Laura Bridgman, dear child! Her question, Do horses sit up
late?"

Before taking leave of us he invited us to take tea with him on the
following Sunday. When the day arrived, my husband was kept at home by a
severe headache, but Mr. and Mrs. Mann, my sister, and myself drove out
to Chelsea, where Mr. Carlyle resided at that time. In receiving us he
apologized for his wife, who was also suffe