Ch. II.] SYDNEY SMITH. 35 



nothing distinctly about our interview, except that Humboldt 

 was very cheerful and talked much. 



X.* reminds me of Buckle, whom I once met at Hensleigh 

 Wedgwood's. I was very glad to learn from [Buckle] his system 

 of collecting facts. He told me that he bought all the books 

 which he read, and made a full index to each, of the facts which 

 he thought might prove serviceable to him, and that he could 

 always remember in what book he had read anything, for his 

 memory was wonderful. I asked him how at first he could 

 judge what facts would be serviceable, and he answered that he 

 did not know, but that a sort of instinct guided him. From 

 this habit of making indices, he was enabled to give the 

 astonishing number of references on all sorts of subjects which 

 may bo found in his History of Civilisation. This book I 

 thought most interesting, and read it twice, but I doubt 

 whether his generalisations are worth anything. Buckle was a 

 great talker ; and I listened to hini, saying hardly a word, nor 

 indeed could I have done so, for he left no gaps. When Mrs. 

 Farrer began to sing, I jumped up and said that I must listen 

 to her. After I had moved away, he turned round to a friend, 

 and said (as was overboard by my brother), "Well, Mr. 

 Darwin's books are much better than his conversation." 



Of other great literary men, I once met Sydney Smith at 

 Dean Milman's house. There was something inexplicably 

 amusing in every word which he uttered. Perhaps this was 

 partly due to the expectation of being amused. He was talking 

 about Lady Cork, who was then extremely old. This was the 

 lady who, as he said, was once so much affected by one of his 

 charity sermons, that she borrowed a guinea from a friend to put 

 in the plate. He now said, " It is gonerally believed that my 

 dear old friend Lady Cork has been overlooked " ; and he paid 

 this in such a manner that no one could for a moment doubt 

 that he meant that his dear old friend had been overlooked by 

 the devil. How he managed to express this I know not. 



I likewise once met Macaulay at Lord Stanhope's (the 

 historian's) house, and as there was only one other man at 

 dinner, I had a grand opportunity of hearing him converse, and 

 he was very agreeable. He did not talk at all too much, nor 

 indeed could such a man talk too much, as long as he allowed 

 others to turn the stream of his conversation, and this he did 

 allow. 



Lord Stanhope once gave me a curious little proof of the 

 accuracy and fulness of Macaulay's memory. Many historians 



* A passage referring to X. is here omitted. — F. D. 



D 2 



