Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCLXXVI | Page 7

that in this particular, viz. reading law at college, Mr. Smith resembled Sir William Follett, who also devoted himself with ardour to the study of the law when at Cambridge, but did not, like Mr. Smith, also gain the highest college honours; for Sir William never competed, or at all events never obtained college honours of any kind. Mr. Smith commenced keeping terms at the beginning, I believe, of 1830; and it was at the mess-table of the Inner Temple Hall that I, who had also shortly before come up from Edinburgh University for the same purpose, first had the happiness and the honour of becoming acquainted with my late distinguished friend. He was then in about his twenty-first year. I distinctly recollect the first time of our meeting, which was at the aforesaid mess-table; and that his appearance struck me as that of a bashful and awkward person dull and taciturn, with a formal precise way of speaking, and a slight abruptness of manner. If Lord Bacon's saying be correct, that a good face is a letter of recommendation--poor John William Smith may be said to have come without a character! How little did I dream of the bright jewel hid in so plain and frail a casket: how often have I felt ashamed of my own want of discernment: what a lesson has it been never again to contract any sort of prejudice against a man from personal appearance! It was not till I had known him for nearly a year, owing partly to our unfrequent meetings, and his absence, that I began to be sensible of his superior talents and acquirements. His personal appearance was, it must be candidly owned, certainly insignificant and unprepossessing. He was of slight make, a trifle under the middle height, his hair was rather light, and his complexion pale. He wore spectacles, being excessively near-sighted, and had a very slight cast in his eyes, which were somewhat full and prominent. The expression of his features, at all events when in repose, was neither intellectual nor engaging, but they improved when he was animated or excited in conversation. His forehead, however, was, though retreating, lofty, and I have heard it characterised as intellectual. At the time of which I am speaking, he used to wear a white hat, placed so far back on his head, that it gave him, to a stranger, almost a ludicrous aspect. His utterance was slow, his demeanour very solemn; and he would sit at dinner for a long time silent, till you would be surprised by his bursting into a short, sudden, but very hearty laugh, when any thing had been said which tickled his fancy; for I found out before long that he had a great taste for the ludicrous, an exquisite perception of humour. When he shook hands with you, he placed his cold hand into yours, like a dead man's hand--even with his most intimate friends--instead of greeting you with a hearty cordial grasp or pressure. How long again this little circumstance misled me as to his supposed insensibility to the claims of friendship or affection! whereas the very reverse was the case; for he was a most firm and devoted friend, and of an exquisite delicacy and sensitiveness of feeling. He did not, at first, as the phrase is, make way with his companions, nor appear desirous of doing so. I recollect, on one occasion, that he and I remained the last at the dinner-table; and, though he sate opposite to me for some minutes, thoughtfully balancing his wine-glass in his hand, an empty decanter being between us, he spoke not a syllable; and I was watching him (his eyes being directed towards the floor) with an amused curiosity, on account of his apparent eccentricity, when he suddenly said, "Mr. Warren, will you take a walk with me up Regent Street, or any where else, as it is such a fine evening?" What passed through my mind, on being thus unexpectedly encountered, was, "Well--he's a curiosity, and seems to know no one--so I will;" and, having said as much, we rose. He walked down the hall, and we took off our gowns in the ante-room, and quitted the building, without his having uttered a syllable! I recollect feeling almost inclined to be offended. We then walked about the town till nearly nine o'clock, and I think he talked a little about France, and we compared notes together concerning Dublin and Edinburgh Universities. I quitted him, musing upon his quaint manner, and his solemn precision of language: but nothing that had passed between us gave me the idea of his being a person of superior ability or acquirements. He was, indeed, a very shy and modest man. It was not, for instance, till after a