With a different set, and at a different part of the town, young Burney
formed an intimacy with Kit Smart, the poet; a man then in equal
possession of those finest ingredients for the higher call of his art,
fire and fancy, and, for its comic call, of sport and waggery. No
indication, however, of such possession was granted to his appearance;
not a grace was bestowed on his person or manners; and his physiognomy
was of that round and stubbed form that seemed appertaining to a common
dealer behind a common counter, rather than to a votary of the Muses.
But his intellects, unhappily, were more brilliant than sound; and his
poetic turn, though it never warped his sentiments or his heart, was
little calculated to fortify his judgment.