ment may be formed from the fact that he was sharply reprimanded for reading Hume's Treatise of Human Nature, and the ray of light which was struggling in at the keyhole was extinguished by taking such works away. At the age of twenty-nine, he filled the chair of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow, a place for which he was admirably suited by his power of communication as well as by the habits of his mind, as he spoke with great fluency when once engaged in his subject, and was listened to with the enthusiasm which his ability, accompanied by a popular manner, might be expected to inspire. It is much to be regretted, that his lectures were destroyed by his own hand before he died. The course of Natural Theology was one which would have great interest for readers of the present day; and such was the variety of suggestion always flowing from his active and fertile mind, that every part must have contained much to interest and instruct mankind.

It was in 1759 that Adam Smith published his Theory of Moral Sentiments, a work so eloquent and interesting that it could not fail to meet with immediate and general success. This was the case in Great Britain, though, as Grimm tells us, it failed entirely in Paris, a region where moral sentiments are generally in but little demand. It is true that the leading principle of the work, resolving all moral approbation into sympathy, is quite too narrow to be true, as would be felt at once by any thoughtful reader; but considered as a treatise on sympathy, or a view of some aspects of human nature, seen with searching discrimination, and presented in a rich and fascinating style, it would not be easy to say too much in its praise. One effect of the fame of this work was to recommend him to Charles Townshend, who had married the Duchess of Buccleuch, and who employed him to accompany the young duke, her son, upon his travels. This gave him an opportunity of forming an acquaintance with the eminent men upon the continent, and ultimately led to his appointment as a revenue officer, one of those splendid rewards of intellectual greatness which are held forth as bounty to such efforts in England, and of late in this country. There, the iron-headed wolves who rob and murder in the service of the state are heaped with estates, titles, and orders, while such men as Burns are made excisemen at the rate of seventy pounds a year. Here, men of fine talent and

manly understanding may peradventure have a place in the custom-house, while all rich pastures are carefully reserved for the worthless cattle who move in the droves of party.

There was another less questionable advantage which Dr. Smith secured by means of his residence abroad; this was the acquaintance of distinguished men, particularly in France, where he found those whose tastes and investigations were similar to his own. Among these was Quesnay, of whom we hear in Marmontel's Memoirs, who had acquired a great reputation by his writings on political economy, a science which had attracted attention, in its various parts, from the middle of the last century, and which he was endeavouring to reduce to a systematic and practical form. Though the public at large were unable to comprehend the point and value of Quesnay's suggestions, he was admired by such men as Condorcet, Turgot, and the elder Mirabeau, "the crabbed old friend of man." Dr. Smith had such an opinion of his ability and excellence, that he would have dedicated the Wealth of Nations to him, if Quesnay had lived to receive the attention. He was not sufficiently master of the French language to speak it fluently; but he was able to communicate with such men as this, though not to chatter with the apes and peacocks of fashionable circles, a privation, however, which he bore with great fortitude.

About a dozen years after this European tour, appeared the celebrated Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, a work which is the surest foundation of his fame; for, although it was anticipated in its doctrines by the French and Italian philosophers, it was so marked, as Hume said, by depth, solidity, acuteness, and power of illustration, that it placed him at the head of all who had attended to this great subject, not even excepting the historian himself, whose own essays upon these questions possessed all the merits which he delighted to ascribe to those of his friend. It is not to be understood that Dr. Smith's views were borrowed; his way was to elaborate those truths for himself, in the solitude and silence of his own mind. If he was indebted to any one, it was probably to Hume, whose essays may have been the means of turning his attention to these inquiries. In the year when those remarkable essays were published, he began to lecture on political economy in Glasgow ; and from the character of his intellectual life, we may readily

infer that his views were original in himself, though others may at the same time have reached conclusions resembling his own.

It was shortly after the publication of this great work that he received the appointment of commissioner of the customs; a compliment about as adequate to his merits and claims as if Le Verrier, in acknowledgment of his late scientific exploit, should be appointed to superintend a church-clock in his native city. It gave him a subsistence, indeed, but the duties of the office were incessant and vexatious, peculiarly unsuited to one who was remarkable for his absence of mind, an infirmity carried so far that he would often talk in company, perfectly unconscious of their presence, and in some instances he would enlighten those about him as to his opinion of their merits, disclosing much more than they delighted to know. He moved through the streets with his hands behind him and his head in the air, wholly unconscious of any obstructions that might be in his way. On one occasion, he overturned the stall of a fiery old woman, who, finding him perfectly unmoved by her tempest of salutations, caught him by his garment, saying, "Speak to me, or I shall die." It is rather singular, that, with these habits, he could accomplish any thing in the way of official duty; and the beauty and fitness of such rewards of intellectual greatness were manifested in the necessity which it brought with it, of suspending those labors of the mind which, though they would not answer for the custom-house, might have enlightened and blessed the world. Rich and active as his mind was, the preparation of his great works required great expense of labor and time. His habit of composition, too, was laborious and slow; it never became easier by practice, but, as he told Mr. Stewart not long before his death, he always wrote with the same difficulty as at first; or, perhaps we should say, he spoke; for, instead of writing with his own hand, he employed an amanuensis, to whom he dictated as he walked about the room. He was unfortunately fastidious in his judgment of his own works; he had eighteen folio volumes of his own writing, which he ordered to be destroyed before his death. His friends promised that it should be done; but he was not satisfied till the sacrifice was actually made, and the labor of so many years was reduced to dust and ashes. He said that he meant to have done more, and there were materials in his manuscripts

out of which he could have made much ; but he had not time for it, and all was lost to the world. Will such governments as that of England ever become sufficiently enlightened to withdraw some portion of the immense amount now spent in prizes for bloodshed, and appropriate it to the support of those who, in a day of higher civilization, will be at once the glory and the shame of their country? a country which knows its true interest and honor no better than to lavish dukedoms and princely fortunes on Marlborough and Wellington, while these men, in every respect of mind and character immeasurably above mere soldiers, are thought highly blessed to receive from it enough to keep body and soul together in the dreary winter of their days.

Nothing can be more attractive than the account which Lord Brougham gives of Smith's disposition; his benevolence was often carried beyond his means, and always delicate in its regard to the feelings of others. His principles of integrity were firm and high. The thoughtfulness of study, the demands of ill health, had no tendency to make him selfish, and the approaches of age did not chill the warmth of his affections. His mother lived with him till her death, in 1784; and after her death, his cousin, Miss Douglas, took charge of his family for the four succeeding years. Her decease, in 1788, deprived him of most of the comforts of his hospitable home; but he lingered on with broken health and spirits, though with an equal mind, till 1790, when a painful disorder brought him down to the grave. A few days before he died, several distinguished friends who were accustomed to sup with him on Sunday were with him; when, finding himself unable to go with them to the table, he said, "I believe we must adjourn this meeting to some other place"; after which they never met again. His complaints were of the kind which are brought on by over-exertion of the brain and the inactivity of a literary life. At one time he believed he had found a panacea for his diseases in tar-water, which was recommended by so great an authority as Berkeley, and was hailed with as much enthusiasm as sundry other nostrums, each of which works miracles for the time, though unfortunately its wonders and glories are too good to last. The history of all such inventions and discoveries is written in two passages of his letters. In one he says, "Tar-water is a remedy in vogue here for almost all diseases; it has perfectly cured me of an

inveterate scurvy and shaking in the head." But not long after this happy restoration, he says, that he has had those complaints as long as he remembers any thing, and "the tar-water has not removed them.”

The letter of Adam Smith in which he describes the closing life of Hume has been the subject of much remark, not very complimentary in its tone; for in former days, many, who manifested no other interest in Christianity, were furious against unbelievers, and nothing could be more unscrupulous than the manner in which they abused those sinners, by way of giving them a taste of the religion of love. Few men have ever received so much of this friendly attention as Hume; his crime seemed to be, that he was not so wicked as, in their opinion, an infidel ought to be. Of this offence he was certainly guilty; and so odious did it make him, that it required some courage in the good-natured Boswell, even under Johnson's broadside, to tell him that " he was better than his books," a eulogy which, proceeding from such a quarter, might, one would think, have turned his brain for ever. Now, though religionists at the time had no patience with his serenity and cheerfulness, still, if he possessed that equanimity in his closing hour, there was no good reason why his friend should not mention it even in words of praise. It is true, he had no right understanding of the religious relations in which he stood; but this should be dealt with as a misfortune, rather than as one of the seven deadly sins. Those who press their censures beyond the bounds of justice always throw the general sympathy on the opposite side. What Dr. Smith's religious opinions were, it is not easy to say; there are none of his writings in which he has disclosed them. Lord Brougham thinks that there are allusions enough to a Divine Providence and the hopes of a future state to remove all doubts on the subject; but if he was alienated from Christianity, and we have some fears that he was, it was probably owing in part to the abuse which Christians, so called, had heaped without measure on his friend.

The approach of Lavoisier, who comes next in order or disorder, whichever it may be, excites Lord Brougham to a strain of condemnation for which he took the pitch in his former volume; not that the French chemist was not great, and in many respects good; but on account of his propensity