Before the close of the last century a famous humorist was born in the
town of Buckfield, in the State of Maine. Seba Smith was his name, yet
during his entire life few persons knew him by that title. Speaking of
him as “Majer Jack Downing,” however, instantly recalls him to mind,
and he at once becomes well known.
Seba Smith was born on the 19th day of September, 1792. As early as
1818 he graduated from Bowdoin College, and, a year or two later,
settled in Portland, where, in 1820, he became the editor of the
Eastern Argus. In 1830 he transferred his labors to the Portland
Courier, with which journal he was connected until 1837. It was during
this time that Mr. Smith wrote a series of letters for his paper. They
were of a political nature, and took well with the public. They became
so popular that in 1833 they were collected in a volume and published
in Boston, under the caption of Life and Letters of Majer Jack Downing.
The letters were humorous in the extreme, and being written on
prominent political subjects, they became widely popular.
In 1841, Smith issued, also through a Boston house, a poem of
considerable length, entitled Powhattan. The next year the friends of
Majer Jack Downing found him in New York city, where he became actively
engaged in literary work. His writings continued to be popular, and his
books were written in rapid succession. Away Down East, or Portraitures
of Yankee Life, appeared in 1843, and in 1846, a book entitled Dewdrops
of the Nineteenth Century was issued. This was followed by a work, New
Elements of Geometry, and other books of a serious nature.
In 1859, towards the close of the year, Mr. Smith issued another volume
of political humor, which he called My 30 Years Out of the Senate.
This book had a wide reputation, and attained an immense sale. The
“late unpleasantness” found Mr. Smith hard at work, although now an
old man. In 1864, he issued a book entitled Majer Jack Downing of the
Downingville Militia. An English edition of the work now lies before
me. It was printed in Paternoster Row, London, and contains just thirty
chapters. On the title page is the following:
“The constitution is a dimmycratic machine, and its got to run as a
dimmycratic machine, or it _won’t run at all_!”