168 Singular Smith. [Auc, 



side ; his ancestors by the father's having been remarkable for nothing 

 remarkable. The existence of the subject of this memoir was conse- 

 quently essential to the glory of the Smiths; and this desirable consum- 

 mation of all their wishes was brought about in September, 1790, at three 

 in the morning arid 33, Leather-lane. The wet-and-dry and pap-and- 

 panada period of his puppyage passed with great credit to himself and 

 satisfaction to Smiths in general. He was pronounced> una voce, to be 

 a sweet child, and a darling of the most dulcet dispositions. 



His childhood exhibited no extraordinary phenomena : the germ of 

 his genius was yet in the ground ; but it shot out at last. The first 

 manifestation of his versatile powers displayed itself in his thirteenth 

 year, in an epitaph on a hopeful schoolfellow, untimely choked in bolting 

 the largest half of a hot roll, which he had pirated from a smaller boy. 

 It is touching, and worth recording : 



" Here I lie dumb, 



Choked by a crum, 

 Which wouldn't go down, and wouldn't up come." 



The ' ' needless Alexandrine" and the daring inversion " up come" did 

 not escape the malicious eyes of the critics ; but after they had deducted 

 as much as they could from the fame which this first attempt necessarily 

 brought him, he had still enough to live upon handsomely ; and Holborn, 

 wide as it is, became hardly wide enough for his spreading reputation. 

 His next production was a rebus on a kit-cat portrait of the late Mr, 

 Pitkin of immortal memory, and ran as follows : 



" My first is a kitten, my second a cat, 

 My third is a portrait, my whole is all that." 



The " all that" was not quite understood ; but so young a genius could 

 not be expected to find rhyme, reason, and a rebus too in a couplet. 



About this time his wit manifested itself somewhat precociously. His 

 venerable father was engaged at the table on a haunch of mutton. The 

 carving-knife and fork were impending over the juicy indulgence, when 

 an odour, not born in the sweet south, nor breathing of a bank of violets, 

 " gave him pause." Mr. Smith, senior, laid down his trenchant blade, 

 and pushing up his spectacles to his forehead, bent his head to the dish 

 to confirm his suspicions ; they were too true. " My dear," said Mr. S. 

 " this mutton is not good in short, it is bad." " And smells so, pa !" 

 corroborated Master John Smith. The fond father, feeling all the force 

 and aptness of the quotation from his favourite Hamlet, forgot his con- 

 tempt for the mutton in wondering admiration at the brilliant sally of his 

 son and heir, and embracing the young master, cut him a double share 

 of pudding where the plums were least " like angels' visits, few and 

 far between." The bon mot circulated far and wide, and Master Smith 

 became at once 



" The cynosure of neighbouring eyes." 



From this time the field of his genius was suffered to lie fallow, and 

 for many years no more was heard of him as a candidate for the reward 

 of ' ' gods and men" fame. Here I am forcibly reminded of a beautiful 

 passage in a poet of some reputation, 



" Full many a flower is born," &c. 

 which I should willingly quote at length for the benefit of readers who 



