amidst earnest cries of "Hear, hear, hear!" He afterwards spoke pretty regularly, especially upon legal questions; and those who, in due course, were appointed beforehand to argue against him, felt it expedient to come particularly well prepared! Shortly before he was called to the bar, he said to me, with a timid, dejected air, "It is a bold step; but I really don't see what else is to be done. Why should I sit any longer perishing in chambers? Besides, my 'Mercantile Law' will be out in a month or two, and if it succeed, it may possibly give me a lift—so I shall try it." He was accordingly called to the bar on the 2d May, 1834, selecting the Oxford Circuit and the Hereford and Gloucester Sessions. "There are only two ways," I heard him say, (quoting the well-known dictum of a late able judge,) "of getting on at the bar, Pleading or Sessions. I have failed in the former, I shall now try the latter. Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo!" I was, I confess, amongst those of his friends who were not sanguine as to his prospects of success at the bar, regarding him as unlikely to attract favourable notice in court practice. Shortly after he had attended at the Sessions, however, he began to obtain a little employment in petty cases there; and, contrary to expectation, became very successful in defending prisoners: his acuteness, vigilance, ingenuity, and legal knowledge—particularly of the law of evidence—became more apparent in every succeeding case intrusted to him. In spite of the dry formality of his manner, he soon attracted the understanding of his hearers, exhibiting great caution and judgment in dealing with the evidence, his tenacious memory here standing him in great stead. His start at sessions, however, seemed likely to lead to nothing, on the civil side at the assizes—where his reception was sufficiently disheartening. He attended regularly, nevertheless, both assizes and sessions; during his stay in town labouring with indefatigable energy in the acquisition of law. In 1835, he composed a lucid little treatise on the Law of Practice, entitled, "An Elementary View of the Proceedings in an Action at Law," distinguished by simplicity, correctness, and condensation, and calculated to give students a perspicuous view of an extremely dry and troublesome subject. This also has become a standard book. In 1836, he wrote another little work—one upon Patent Law, explanatory, in a practical way, of a statute which had just before been passed, and had effected important alterations in that department of law. He told me that "he did not like to throw a chance away," and this "might possibly get him some briefs in Patent cases;" but I suspect that in this he was disappointed. In the same year he and I occupied our long vacation in preparing together a work entitled "Select Extracts from Blackstone's Commentaries, carefully adapted to the use of schools and young persons." We both took great pains with this book, and it has had a large sale: but for some whimsical reason or other, he would not allow his name to appear, though particular in retaining a share in the copyright.
Neglected and discouraged though he was, he continued to prosecute his studies with patient energy, appearing to me scarcely ever to spend an idle moment. He attended very frequently the Courts at Westminster, and on returning to chambers would spend the rest of the day in reading the constantly-accumulating Reports, and noting their more important contents in his favourite text-books. He constantly sat up till a very late, or rather early hour in the morning, and would frequently, on awaking, lie reading in bed till noon, when he would rise and take a sparing breakfast. I recollect calling upon him one gloomy day in December, about the time of which I am writing, to ask him to accompany me home to dinner, as he generally did once or twice a-week. He suffered a martyrdom from tooth-ache; and on this occasion had passed a miserable night from that cause, not having slept at all, and his swollen face betokened the violence of the fit. He had, nevertheless, got up much earlier than usual, to oblige one of his friends, for whom he had promised to draw some very pressing and difficult pleadings, which he was finishing as I entered. When he had despatched his clerk with them, he requested me to sit down and take a cup of tea with him, as he was suffering, both from pain, and fatigue, and ennui. I never saw him in so desponding an humour. He promised to dine with me on the morrow, provided I would sit with him for an hour "gossiping," for he said that he could not sleep, he could not sit still, he could not read or write. I complied with his request, and stayed with him a long time. In the course of conversation, I recollect him saying, that "He supposed he was not to get on in the law; that he could not fight against the want of a connexion." I reminded him that it was surely premature to hold such language, and that he must bide his time,—when he interrupted me by saying, shaking his head, "Ah, but while the grass grows the steed starves." Presently he said, rather suddenly, "Should you be surprised to hear of my entering the church?" "The church!" I echoed with surprise.—"What do you see so wonderful in the notion of my going into the church?" said he gravely. "Do you think me unfit for it?"—"Not at all; but what I wonder at is, that you should dream of quitting the bar."—"Why not, if I find that it will not afford me a living? Let me tell you, that I am very partial to the study of Divinity, and have read a good deal of it, much more than you would suppose. I think I should like composing sermons, though it is very possible that they might not be popular; and I suppose you will not deny that Divinity is a nobler study than law?" He said much more in the same strain, which led me to believe that the subject had for some time occupied his thoughts, and that he had begun seriously to contemplate quitting the bar—at all events, if another year should leave him as little likely to succeed in obtaining practice, as that which was on the eve of closing. Many of even his intimate friends were unaware of his partiality for Divinity, and the extent to which he had studied it; for he was very reserved on such matters.
I once told him that I had read the whole, of "Pearson on the Creed;" at which, in his usual cold dry way, he replied, "So have I, and very carefully. I liked it much. And I'll tell you another book that I have read still more carefully, both in Latin and English—Mosheim's 'Ecclesiastical History.'" I have heard him say the same of Hooker's "Ecclesiastical Polity." We have often discussed the merits of Jeremy Taylor, Barrow, and South; the last of whom was a favourite of his. He had a surprising knowledge of the Old and New Testaments. One of his oldest and ablest friends, and whom he appointed one of his executors, recently alluded, in conversation with me, to this circumstance, adding, "Smith read the Bible as few but he could read it; and remembered it, as very few but he could remember it." I have occasionally myself had evidence of his exact knowledge of very recondite portions of the Old Testament; but, as already intimated, he was always cautious and sparing in scriptural allusions or quotations. Since writing the foregoing sentences, a learned friend has informed me, that Mr. Smith, about two years before his death, had entered into a prolonged and ardent discussion with him on the subject of the Apostolical Succession, insisting that no one who did not assent to that doctrine, was in reality, or could be conscientiously, a minister of the Church of England. Again and again, during a considerable interval of time, whenever they met, Mr. Smith pertinaciously renewed the discussion,—his friend for some time doubting whether Mr. Smith had any other motive than to amuse himself with the matter as one of mere logical exercise, but being at length satisfied that he was sincerely expressing his own opinions. To a brother of this gentleman, Mr. Smith became closely attached, on discovering the extent and depth of his knowledge of divinity, a subject on which they conversed whenever they could, Mr. Smith exhibiting, on all such occasions, the utmost zest and energy. I have already intimated the extent of his acquaintance with general literature; to which it may be here added that he possessed a correct and very extensive knowledge of history, ancient and modern. He knew it, and its true uses; and was equally conversant with its minute details, and its general scope and bearing, as illustrative of the practical operation of political principles and doctrines. He always, in short, appeared to me to be a man, whose first anxiety in all matters was to obtain a thorough knowledge of details, of facts; and then experienced delight in contemplating and reflecting upon them with a view to the discovery or detection of some leading principle of action or conduct involved in them. Such grave matters, however, did not alone occupy him; for I never saw a more eager and indiscriminate reader of even the ephemeral trash loading the shelves of circulating libraries. Scarcely a novel, play, or magazine appeared, which he did not take up, and, whenever they happened to be mentioned, show as complete a knowledge of them as if they had been worthy of it. I have often laughed at him on these accounts; he generally receiving my sallies with a sort of piqued silence, or simply saying, "It amuses me." I think that this circumstance is well accounted for by Mr. Phillimore—that Mr. Smith's over-tasked mind found light and easy narrative, of any kind, a relaxation.
Early
