Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCLXXVI | Page 7

a great undertaking for vacant
hours at college, but will not appear to any of Mr. Smith's friends to
have been such to him, who read as rapidly, as he attended closely to,
and tenaciously retained what he had read. It may here be mentioned,
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