Such things are common in the lives of men, but they are not often encountered by so resolved and patient a spirit as that of Mr. Smith. One who saw the struggle may boldly say this, because there can be no other motive for mentioning private and personal griefs but to show forth the character of the mind which could firmly bear and overcome them. As a mean of reducing his difficulties he proposed to sell that geological collection which had been so much prized, and through the assistance of some friends a communication was opened with the Treasury. Two gentlemen being deputed to examine the collection, reported favourably, and their lordships were pleased to authorize the purchase, in order that the specimens might be fitted up in the British Museum. There was also some defined notion of engaging Mr. Smith’s services at the museum to take charge of and explain the geological principles which this collection was intended to illustrate; but this project came to nothing. In the winter of 1818-19, Mr. Smith revisited, after an absence of ten years, his native village, re-examined the unforgotten localities where in childhood his “pundibs” and “poundstones” were gathered, and collected “marlstone” fossils from an excavation at Churchill Mill, nearly at the same points where he had noticed them in 1787. In one whose life had been one long wandering, and who had earned for himself an immortal name, this return to the haunts of his childhood and the simplicity of village occupations, must have excited many interesting reflections. He had sold his patrimony, and what had been the modest dwelling of his ancestors for two hundred years; he had disbursed in travelling for what he deemed a public object all that he had earned; while one of his two brothers, quietly prosecuting trade in his native village, had grown a rich and prosperous man. In the autumn of 1819 Mr. Smith gave up his house in London, after fifteen years’ occupation, and was compelled to submit to the sale of his furniture, collections, and books, preserving in fact, only his papers, maps, sections and other drawings, through the kindness of a most faithful friend. While this happened, he was in Yorkshire busily engaged, apparently oblivious, perhaps sternly regardless, of what seemed to others an insupportable misfortune. He deemed it an inevitable corollary to his irretrievable losses in the unlucky speculation already mentioned near Bath, and armed himself with what seemed more than fortitude to meet it.