He soon found himself on the flood tide of prosperity. Not willing to sail alone, he took for his mate, Miss Eleanor Armor, of Newcastle, who superintended his cabin stores with great skill and prudence. In every thing he was purely original. With a strong mind, an open and honest heart, a benevolent and manly disposition, he united great conviviality and amusing drollery, yet so discreet as not to offend the most modest ear. He delighted in seeing the contortions of the risible muscles, which were uniformly in motion in all proper circles when James Smith was present. Whenever he came in contact with a pedant he would propound some ridiculous question with the utmost gravity, such as the following, “Don’t you remember that terrible bloody battle which Alexander the Great fought with the Russians near the straits of Babelmandel? I think you will find the account in Thucydides or Herodotus.” His memory was retentive and stored with numerous anecdotes, which he used in court either to annoy his opponent and help his case, or in company to amuse his friends. No one could tell a story with more effect than Mr. Smith. His manner was original and beyond imitation. With all his wit and humour, he held religion in the greatest reverence, and was a communicant of the church. No one that knew him dare utter a word against it in his presence, knowing that the lash of the keenest ridicule would at once be applied by him. Such a mixture of qualities are rarely blended in one man. From the deep toned logic and the profoundest thought up to the eccentric ridiculous, all balanced by the happy equilibrium of discretion, his mind ranged with the rapidity of lightning, using each at the most appropriate time and place. His manner, his style, and his every thing, from the most trivial circumstance to the momentous concerns of the nation in which he participated, were purely original.