and he himself was to blame for rambling out so
early. At length he called out so loud, that he was heard by some in
the house, who came out, and speedily separated the mastiff and the
mathematician. However, it is added, that the adventure gave the
doctor a strong habitual aversion for dogs; and I dare say, if the
truth were known, fixed in the dog's mind a still stronger aversion to
doctors."

This last sentence is in exactly the same vein of humour as the comment, in
the review of Waterton's Travels,[31] on the snake that bit itself. "Mr.
Waterton, though much given to sentiment, made a Labairi snake bite itself,
but no bad consequences ensued--nor would any bad consequences ensue, if a
court-martial was to order a sinful soldier to give himself a thousand
lashes. It is barely possible that the snake had some faint idea whom and
what he was biting."

The house which was furnished with the products of this Moral Philosophy
was No. 18 Orchard Street, Portman Square, and here the Smiths lived till
they left London for a rural parish. Meanwhile, the excellent Bernard had
secured some clerical employment for his friend. Through his influence the
Rev. Sydney Smith was elected "alternate Evening Preacher at the Foundling
Hospital," on the 27th of March 1805. He tried to open a Proprietary Chapel
on his own account, but was foiled by the obstinacy of the Rector in whose
parish it was situate.[32] He was appointed Morning Preacher at Berkeley
Chapel, Mayfair, and combined his duties there with similar duties at
Fitzroy Chapel, now St. Saviour's Church, Fitzroy Square.[33] These various
appointments, coupled with his lectures at the Royal Institution, brought
him increasingly into public notice. His preaching was admired by some
important people. His contributions to the _Edinburgh_, so entirely
unlike anything else in periodical literature, were eagerly anticipated and
keenly canvassed. It was reported that King George III. had read them, and
had said, "He is a very clever fellow, but he will never be a bishop." His
social gifts won him friends wherever he went; and Lord and Lady Holland,
though themselves not addicted to the public observances of religion, were
anxious to promote his professional advancement; but this was not easy.
"From the beginning of the century," he wrote, "to the death of Lord
Liverpool, was an awful period for those who had the misfortune to
entertain Liberal opinions, and wer