Sydney Smith

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Sydney Smith

Sydney Smith (June 3, 1771 - February 22, 1845), was an English writer and clergyman.

1 Sourced
- 1.1 Lady Holland's Memoir (1855)
- 1.2 Recipe for Salad
2 Attributed
3 External links

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Sourced

The schoolboy whips his taxed top; the beardless youth manages his taxed horse with a taxed bridle on a taxed road; and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent, into a spoon that has paid fifteen per cent, flings himself back upon his chintz bed which has paid twenty-two per cent, and expires in the arms of an apothecary who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privilege of putting him to death.
- Review of Seybert’s Annals of the United States, published in The Edinburgh Review (1820)

In the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book? Or goes to an American play? or looks at an American picture or statue? What does the world yet owe to American physicians or surgeons? What new substances have their chemists discovered? Or what old ones have they advanced? What new constellations have been discovered by the telescopes of Americans? Who drinks out of American glasses? Or eats from American plates? Or wears American coats or gowns? or sleeps in American blankets? Finally, under which of the old tyrannical governments of Europe is every sixth man a slave, whom his fellow-creatures may buy and sell and torture?
- Review of Seybert’s Annals of the United States, published in The Edinburgh Review (1820)

If you choose to represent the various parts in life by holes upon a table, of different shapes—some circular, some triangular, some square, some oblong—and the persons acting these parts by bits of wood of similar shapes, we shall generally find that the triangular person has got into the square hole, the oblong into the triangular, and a square person has squeezed himself into the round hole. The officer and the office, the doer and the thing done, seldom fit so exactly that we can say that they were almost made for each other.
- Sketches of Moral Philosophy (1850)

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Lady Holland's Memoir (1855)

That knuckle-end of England—that land of Calvin, oatcakes, and sulphur.
- Vol. I, ch. 2

Preaching has become a byword for long and dull conversation of any kind; and whoever wishes to imply, in any piece of writing, the absence of everything agreeable and inviting, calls it a sermon.
- Vol. I, ch. 3

Avoid shame, but do not seek glory,—nothing so expensive as glory.
- Vol. I, ch. 4

Take short views, hope for the best, and trust in God.
- Vol. I, ch. 6

Looked as if she had walked straight out of the ark.
- Vol. I, ch. 7

No furniture so charming as books.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

Not body enough to cover his mind decently with; his intellect is improperly exposed.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

He has spent all his life in letting down empty buckets into empty wells; and he is frittering away his age in trying to draw them up again.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

Ah, you flavour everything; you are the vanilla of society.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

My living in Yorkshire was so far out of the way, that it was actually twelve miles from a lemon.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

As the French say, there are three sexes,—men, women, and clergymen.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

Praise is the best diet for us, after all.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

Daniel Webster struck me much like a steam-engine in trousers.
- Vol. I, ch. 9

Live always in the best company when you read.
- Vol. I, ch. 10

Never give way to melancholy; resist it steadily, for the habit will encroach.
- Vol. I, ch. 10

He was a one-book man. Some men have only one book in them; others, a library.
- Vol. I, ch. 11

Marriage resembles a pair of shears, so joined that they can not be separated; often moving in opposite directions, yet always punishing anyone who comes between them.
- Vol. I, ch. 11

Macaulay is like a book in breeches...He has occasional flashes of silence, that make his conversation perfectly delightful.
- Vol. I, ch. 11

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Recipe for Salad

Let onion atoms lurk within the bowl
And, scarce suspected, animate the whole.

Serenely full, the epicure would say,
Fate cannot harm me, I have dined today.

What you don't know would make a great book.

In composing, as a general rule, run your pen through every other word you have written; you have no idea what vigor it will give your style.

Thak God for tea! What would the world do without tea?—how did it exist? I am glad I was not born before tea.

That sign of old age, extolling the past at the expense of the present.

We know nothing of tomorrow; our business is to be good and happy today.

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Attributed

A great deal of talent is lost to the world for want of a little courage. Every day sends to their graves obscure men whose timidity prevented them from making a first effort.

Among the smaller duties of life I hardly know any one more important than that of not praising where praise is not due.

Correspondences are like small clothes before the invention of suspenders; it is impossible to keep them up.

Do not try to push your way through to the front ranks of your profession; do not run after distinctions and rewards; but do your utmost to find an entry into the world of beauty.

Great men hallow a whole people, and lift up all who live in their time.

Have the courage to be ignorant of a great number of things, in order to avoid the calamity of being ignorant of everything.

He not only overflowed with learning, he stood in the slop.

Heaven never helps the men who will not act.

I never read a book before previewing it; it prejudices a man so.

It is safest to be moderately base - to be flexible in shame, and to be always ready for what is generous, good, and just, when anything is to be gained by virtue.

It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do little - do what you can.

Life is to be fortified by many friendships. To love and to be loved is the greatest happiness of existence.

Manners are like the shadows of virtues, they are the momentary display of those qualities which our fellow creatures love and respect.

Never talk for half a minute without pausing and giving others a chance to join in.

No man can ever end with being superior who will not begin with being inferior.

Poverty is no disgrace to a man, but it is confoundedly inconvenient.

The object of preaching is to constantly remind mankind of what they keep forgetting; not to supply the intellect, but to fortify the feebleness of human resolutions.

The thing about performance, even if it's only an illusion, is that it is a celebration of the fact that we do contain within ourselves infinite possibilities.