Part 22

Kay’s series of portraits and caricature etchings enable the curious inquirer not only to have before him the style of dress and appearance of the author of the “Wealth of Nations” at this period, but even to form a tolerably accurate conception of what a day with him must have ordinarily been. One seems to see him, as he is prepared after breakfast to set out for the Custom House, standing before the table, with his cane in one hand, and the other on some page of his latest work, which lies open before him. He descends the stair, and issues slowly into the street, muttering to himself, and indulging in a laugh, which must be very favorable to the digestion of his morning meal. And what can it be that excites his risibility? Is he chuckling over the solution of some knotty problem in political science, or does the manly and dignified figure of his acquaintance, Lord Rockville, in the distance, recall to his memory the never-ending joke about the Grassmarket pavement, having one evening most suddenly risen up and struck that urbane and polished legal sage in the face? These two fishwomen, whom he meets, look as if they had some notion; but no, by St. Bride! the weather-beaten jades really mistake the philosopher for a lunatic, and express their surprise that he is not in custody. He neither sees nor hears them, however, but continues to laugh and soliloquize.

“Heigh, sirs! isn’t that waesome?” ejaculates one, as she shakes her head and becomes mute from very pity.

“And he’s so well put on, too!” observed the other, with a sigh, as she marked his careful attire, from the cocked hat and flowing wig to the ruffles at his wrists and the buckles on his shoes. Our venerable hero now approaches the Custom House, and as he reaches the door, the gigantic porter, who keeps guard, salutes him with ceremonious formality. But what is the Economist about now? Exercising his muscles, or teaching the big janitor sword exercise? Not at all. He is only, with the most complete unconsciousness of doing any thing of the kind, imitating with his gold-headed cane every flourish that the man has made, before entering the building where the Board is sitting for the transaction of business connected with the collection of the revenue. He exchanges courteous salutations with his colleagues, among whom are a tall, stately scion of the noble house of Cochrane, and Capt. Edgar, a gentleman of eccentric habits, but a thorough man of the world, and valued by the Doctor, because, being rather out of place at a Customs’ Board, and luckily an excellent classical scholar, he is quite ready to devote the official hours to the task of amusing the philosopher. Accordingly, this personage, celebrated in verse as the _beau dîneur_, and Dr. Smith, renowned for having taught the world how nations are bound together by the reciprocal benefits of commerce, occupy their time with the recitation of passages from the Greek authors. Then a paper bearing the signature of one of the Commissioners is handed to the Economist, but instead of appending his own name, he copies that of the person who has already signed it. He now rises and sallies forth to indulge in a quiet walk about the Meadows, a fashionable place of resort; and after dining, he repairs to the “Poker Club,” to spend the remainder of his waking hours in the company of Black, and Hutton, and John Home.

Now and then Dr. Smith paid a visit to London. On the last occasion of his being in the metropolis he had been engaged to dine with tall Harry Dundas, afterward Lord Melville, then the real “Cock of the North.” He happened to arrive too late, and the guests, among whom were Pitt, Grenville, and Addington, had taken their places at table; but on his entrance, they, with one accord, rose to receive him. The Doctor offered an apology for being so late, and begged them to resume their seats; but they said, “No, we’ll stand till you are seated, for we are all your scholars.”

In the year 1787 the veteran philosopher was elected Rector of Glasgow University. He was touched by the compliment, and in acknowledging it, stated that no preferment could have given him so much real satisfaction, because the term of years, during which he had been a member of the Society, had formed by far the most useful, and therefore the happiest and most honorable, period of the life whose closing scene was now gradually drawing nigh. His last illness was painful and lingering, but in the summer of 1790 the angel of death gave no uncertain signals of approach. In accordance with an old Scottish custom, certainly more honored in the breach than the observance, Dr. Smith had been in the habit of inviting his intimate associates to supper on Sundays. This, it should be mentioned, was, at that date, practiced by men whose character for Christian piety was beyond all reproach or question; and the Economist’s adherence to it can not, with any show of reason, be cited in support of the tendency to infidelity, which has been, rightly or wrongly, imputed to him. It was a July evening when they last assembled, and the gathering was, as usual, pretty numerous; but the host found himself incapable of taking that part which he had so often done; and feeling himself unable to entertain them, he requested their permission to withdraw. On taking his leave, he said, “Indeed, gentlemen, I believe we must adjourn this meeting to some other place.” A few days brought release from his sufferings. He had just given orders for the destruction of all his manuscripts, with the exception of some detached essays, which, being left to the care of his executors, were afterward published; when he breathed his last in a state of complete mental resignation. He was most tenderly sympathized with in his pangs by a circle of sorrowing friends, who had learned fully to appreciate the powers of his intellect, the comprehensiveness of his views, the extent of his attainments, and the benignity of his disposition.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes:

――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

End of Project Gutenberg's Footprints of Famous Men, by John G. Edgar