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A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith
Chapter X
Sydney Smith to Catharine Amelia Smith, 23 October 1843
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
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Author's Preface
Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Index
Editor’s Preface
Letters 1801
Letters 1802
Letters 1803
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Letters 1805
Letters 1806
Letters 1807
Letters 1808
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Letters 1830
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Letters 1834
Letters 1835
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Letters 1837
Letters 1838
Letters 1839
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Letters 1843
Letters 1844
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“Green-street, October 23.
“Dearest Kate,

“I meant to have gone to Munden today, but am not quite stout, so have postponed my journey there till next Saturday, the 28th. I went over yesterday to the Tates at Edmonton. The family consists of three delicate daughters, an aunt, the old lady, and her son, then curate of Edmonton; the old lady was in bed. I found there a physician, an old friend of Tate’s, attending them from friendship, who had come from London for that purpose. They were in daily expectation of being turned out from house and curacy. . . I began by inquiring the character of their servant;
MEMOIR OF THE REV. SYDNEY SMITH.291
then turned the conversation upon their affairs, and expressed a hope the Chapter might ultimately do something for them. I then said, ‘It is my duty to state to you (they were all assembled) that I have given away the living of Edmonton; and have written to our Chapter clerk this morning, to mention the person to whom I have given it; and I must also tell you, that I am sure he will appoint his curate. (A general silence and dejection.) It is a very odd coincidence,’ I added,’that the gentleman I have selected is a namesake of this family; his name is Tate. Have you any relations of that name?’ ‘No, we have not.’ ‘And, by a more singular coincidence, his name is Thomas Tate; in short,’ I added, ‘there is no use in mincing the matter, you are vicar of Edmonton.’ They all burst into tears. It flung me also into a great agitation of tears, and I wept and groaned for a long time. Then I rose, and said I thought it was very likely to end in their keeping a buggy, at which we all laughed as violently.

“The poor old lady, who was sleeping in a garret because she could not bear to enter into the room lately inhabited by her husband, sent for me and kissed me, sobbing with a thousand emotions. The charitable physician wept too. . . . I never passed so remarkable a morning, nor was more deeply impressed with the sufferings of human life, and never felt more thoroughly the happiness of doing good.

“God bless you!
“Sydney Smith.”