Not to perpetuate a name
Which must endure while the peaceful arts flourish,
But to show
That mankind have learned to honor those
Who best deserved their gratitude,
The King,
His Ministers, and many of the Nobles
And Commoners of the Realm,
Raised this Monument to
James Watt,
Who, directing the force of an original genius, early
exercised in philosophical research, to the
improvement of the
Steam-engine.
Enlarged the resources of his country,
Increased the power of man,
And rose to an eminent place among the illustrious
followers of Science,
And the real benefactors of the world.
[ADAM SMITH.]
If there are “suppressed characters” in literary and scientific, as well as in parliamentary history, the great apostle of political economy is certainly not of the number. Indeed, the posthumous glory he has derived from his most celebrated work, goes far to justify Southey’s enthusiastic preference of the fame arising from authorship over all others. After the lapse of a century, his name is still familiar in the mouths of men, and still continues to gather fresh fame as it flies along the stream of time. The maxims of policy which he taught are now inseparably associated with the recollection of a long controversy, a memorable struggle, and a triumph under extraordinary circumstances. But without venturing to expatiate on the latter somewhat exciting topics, it may be possible to furnish a sketch of the learned Doctor’s earthly career, not altogether uninteresting to youths accustomed to “mark, learn, and inwardly digest.”
The father of this famous professor of political science had originally practiced in Edinburgh as a writer to the signet; for so an attorney is there styled. He had afterward become private secretary to the Earl of Loudon, who held the now abolished office of Secretary of State for Scotland; and when his lordship’s career in that capacity terminated, the elder Smith was appointed Comptroller of the Customs at Kirkaldy, a small Fifeshire town, situated on the Firth of Forth. Removing thither to fulfill the duties of the office, and perhaps finding himself more solitary in his new sphere than he had been in the capital, he married a very amiable and affectionate woman, bearing the “conquering name” of Douglas. He was not, however, spared to see the son whose achievements have saved his memory from oblivion, for, somewhere about the beginning of 1723, he departed this life; and a few months later, on the 5th of June, the birth of Adam Smith took place.
The future economist had not, in infancy, the advantage of such strong health as enables children to frisk, and riot, and tumble about without danger. It required all the care and attention which a widowed and disconsolate mother generally bestows upon an only son, to sustain his weakly and delicate constitution against the perils which beset beings in that immature season of earthly existence; and she executed her task with so much real tenderness and solicitude, as to have been charged with the venial fault of too readily gratifying his whims and humors. Unbounded indulgence toward a child is certainly highly imprudent; but it does not appear that it either spoiled Smith, or produced in his case any other evil consequences.
Another, and a more substantial kind of danger, he is related to have been on one occasion exposed to. The tribes of gipsies, who then infested the country, carried on a most indiscriminate system of plunder. Nothing came amiss to them that was not too hot or too heavy; and they not only anticipated the doctrine of buying in the cheapest and selling in the dearest markets, but acted on it to an extent which would make teachers of economy “stare and gasp” with surprise and horror. They seem to have loved the trade of pillage, “not wisely, but too well;” for, though it is not difficult to understand their motive in appropriating the pigs, poultry, and game of the district, periodically favored with their portentous presence, it is certainly not so easy to imagine what advantage they found in carrying off, and burdening themselves with, their neighbors’ children. But, whatever their views in this predatory system, the little boy destined to become the author of the “Wealth of Nations,” narrowly escaped their clutches. When he was three years old, his fond mother carried him on a visit to the family of her brother, who resided at Strathenry; and one day, while there, he was playing noiselessly about the door of the house, when up came a gang of gipsies. The sight of a child, thus alone and helpless, was a temptation not to be resisted; and the scene may readily be fancied. Some tall prophetess, whom Sir Roger de Coverley would have called “a baggage,” dressed in a long, faded, red cloak, would separate herself from the troop, and, after turning and carefully glancing round on all sides to ascertain that she was safe from the eyes of fair-haired Christians, insure the fatal silence of her tiny victim, by placing in his hand a rosy-cheeked apple. Then, stealthily lifting him up, she would with cunning caresses deposit his slight form beneath her cloak, and hastily rejoin her comrades. And now there was every probability of Smith being brought up to a life of theft and vagrancy, passing his nights in plundering hen-roosts and breaking game preserves, or seated by some watch-fire blazing within a circle of stones, and uttering “uncouth gibberish” to damsels, whose dusky brows seemed to tell of their Eastern origin, and whose “white teeth and black eyes” might well, indeed, excite the admiration of that susceptible old knight so finely portrayed by the pen of Addison. Fortunately, however, he was soon missed; and the alarm that he had been kidnapped was sounded in time to give his uncle the opportunity of being, according to Dugald Stewart, the happy instrument of preserving to the world a genius which was destined not only to extend the boundaries of science, but to enlighten and reform the commercial policy of Europe. The stout kinsman would, doubtless, run quickly to the stable, saddle his mettled steed, and throw himself on its back. Then, setting out in pursuit, he speedily came up to the migratory band, who, feeling quite secure, had encamped in Leslie Wood. He joyfully rescued the terrified child from their keeping, and hurrying back, restored him in safety to his weeping and agitated parent.
At a proper age after this adventure, Master Adam, still the pride and delight of his mother’s eye, was placed in the parish school of Kirkaldy, which at the time was, luckily for him, taught by a man of considerable ability and repute. The youth took kindly to his book. His delicate health rendered him unfit, or, at all events, averse to playing any active part in the games and pastimes of his class-fellows. He avoided the field or the market-place, where his rough and hardy compeers, caring not a jot for sun or dust, exercised their limbs at golf, or urged the flying ball, sometimes to the destruction of windows; and he engaged not in those puerile displays of strength and skill, out of which the pugnacious and aspiring imps, not seldom, came with livid faces and bloody snouts. Instead of boisterous mirth, he loved quiet retirement; and while the others were taking part in mischievous freaks and diversions he was reading, and laying the foundation of the peculiar habits of self-communion which distinguished his subsequent career. His memory was tenacious, and he rapidly stored up information to be used when the proper time arrived. When in company, he, even at this date, displayed those peculiarities which afterward characterized him. He was generally absent and inattentive to the conversation going on; the motion of his lips could be observed as he muttered to himself; and his manners were artless and simple in the extreme.