At the age of fifteen, Adam climbed to the top of a coach, and was sent to be entered at the University of Glasgow. While there, he manifested great partiality for mathematics, the chair of which was then filled by the celebrated Professor Simson, the restorer of Euclid; his other bias being toward natural philosophy. He remained in the city on the Clyde for three years, and subsequently acknowledged infinite obligations to the institution. Luckily for Smith, and several other eminent men who have since flourished, a person of the name of Snell had, in the year of the Revolution, bequeathed an estate in the county of Warwick for the support, at Balliol College, Oxford, of Scottish youths, who have, for a certain period, been students at Glasgow, in whose professorial body the patronage is vested. Smith was selected as one of the exhibitioners on this foundation, and repaired to Oxford, with the prospect, as his relatives believed, of appearing ere long as a divine of note and reputation. He did not in after life confess to having owed much to the seat of learning to which—thanks to old Snell’s laudable liberality—he had thus been admitted; but it must be taken into account that Scotchmen of his generation, however reflecting, were violently, and perhaps excusably, prejudiced in regard to much of what they witnessed in a country so much wealthier than their own. In any case, the philosophic Fifeshire lad luxuriated in his favorite subjects and speculations in private; and was equally assiduous and successful in his study of languages, both ancient and modern. He became intimately acquainted with the poetry, and gained a knowledge of and mastery over the language, of England, which more than counteracted the effects of his Northern education. In his efforts to acquire the art of composing with ease, freedom, and elegance, he translated much from foreign models, particularly from the French; and this method he ever recommended to those who aspired to accomplish themselves, or to improve their style in the structure and formation of sentences. During his residence at Oxford his secret studies unfortunately provoked the suspicion of his academic superiors, who thought fit to pay an inquisitorial visit to his chamber. They found him engaged in an intellectual banquet on Hume’s “Treatise of Human Nature,” then recently published, and considered somewhat dangerous fare. This they seized, proving at the same time their respect for the principle of “reciprocity” by bestowing upon him a severe reprimand in exchange. Whatever his chances of ecclesiastical preferment, and however great the anxiety of his friends that he should take orders, they were wrecked and defeated by his opposition to the long-cherished scheme. He, contrary to the wishes of his relatives, totally abandoned the idea of a clerical career, left the classic precincts of Oxford University, and resided with his mother for the next two years, without doing any thing in particular or fixing upon any plan of life.
The intellectual faculties of Smith were at this season in almost as great peril of being lost to the world as when he had been carried by gipsies into the recesses of Leslie Wood. The crisis of his fate had arrived, and while pondering in his solitary chamber, or subjected to embarrassing questions at Kirkaldy tea-parties, he must often have mused, with concern, over the magnitude of the sacrifice he had made in relinquishing the course which had been chalked out for him. It was really one of no trifling character, for the circumstances of his native land, never very favorable, were then such as to render it in the last degree difficult for youths, even of the most respectable parentage, to discover a career worthy of being followed. A chivalrous writer of this generation, in his zealous defense of a new school of artists, apparently flushed with triumph, and under the impression, not only that things are sadly out of joint, but that he was born to set them right, travels out of his way to suggest a new school of philanthropists, and recommends some half-dozen thorough-bred gentlemen to take to the green-grocery trade or some other of the kind, just to show that there is nothing dishonorable in such occupations, and thus regenerate society. The sagacious Scots of another day seem to have, to a considerable extent, anticipated that counsel, though without pretending that they were thereby entitling themselves to the credit of any very sublime or beneficent self-sacrifice. Smith’s friend, the romantic author of “Douglas,” whom Nature seems to have designed for a knight-errant, was somewhat unreasonable in his complaint—
“Sprung from the haughty nobles of the land,
Upon the ladder’s lowest round I stand;”
for hundreds of the younger sons of ancient and honorable families were glad if they could, without having their gentility openly impeached, gain a livelihood as merchants in the provinces, or even as tradesmen in the Canongate. Nor was it on younger sons only that Fortune bestowed such merciless kicks. Caledonian noblemen of long pedigrees, high names, and sounding titles, were found in situations aught but dignified. One peer kept a glove shop in Cornhill. Another, still less fortunate, employed each day in contriving how he was to fall in with a dinner. A third, on being arrested, was so dirty in his person, and so shabby in his dress, that the officer of justice stubbornly refused to credit the possibility of his being a man of rank. Even “females of quality” were not exempt from the miseries of the period; for one Scottish baroness was hostess of a tavern whose character was not the highest, and pleaded the privilege of her order when sued for keeping a disorderly house. What prospect was there in a state of society thus overcast for a youth, whom his plebeian name would all but disqualify for the position of a traveling tutor, and whom absorption in intellectual contemplation rendered utterly unfit to figure as a man of business? We shall soon see.
Among the cadets of patrician houses who in the Scottish capital had sought a way of escape from the horrors which attend the union of pride and poverty, none had struggled with greater perseverance and success than that very distant kinsman, but close friend, of the great philosophic historian of England, since known to fame as Lord Kames. Having been educated by a tutor under the roof of his father, a Border gentleman of Jacobite leanings, and studied law at the University of Edinburgh, he was placed as apprentice in the office of a writer. But feeling, like Lord Mansfield, a real calling for the bar, he deserted the attorney’s desk before completing the term agreed on, and not only distinguished himself in his professional exhibitions, but by his deep learning and acute genius won a very extensive reputation as an author on various subjects. Smith had the advantage of being appreciated by this eminent jurist, philosopher, and agriculturist; and he prudently availed himself of the circumstance. In 1748, the Economist came forth under his patronage to lecture, in the Scottish metropolis, on rhetoric and the belles lettres, the professorship for which had not then been founded. This Smith continued to do for two years, at the end of which he was sufficiently recognized as a man of talent and erudition to be elected to the Logic Chair in the University of Glasgow, where he discharged the duties with much ability. He departed widely from the course that had been pursued by his predecessors, and directed the minds of the students to subjects of a more useful and interesting nature than they had been accustomed to.
Smith was now, indeed, in a position which was favorable to the proper display of his extraordinary powers; and within twelve months of his election he had the good fortune to be nominated and chosen as Professor of Moral Philosophy. Such he continued for the next thirteen years, which, when they had long passed, he was in the habit of looking back on with a feeling somewhat resembling regret, as they had formed the happiest and most agreeable period of his existence. His public lectures, though delivered in a plain and unaffected manner, were always distinguished and rendered interesting by a luminous division of the subject, as well as by full, fresh and various illustration. They soon began to excite interest, and were attended no less for pleasure than instruction. The commercial community was agitated by a spirit of inquiry; the learned professor’s name rapidly spread; and young men from all parts of the country were attracted to the College with a view of profiting by them. The science, from the novel method in which it was treated, became popular; and Adam was so much admired in his capacity of lecturer, that, as in the days of Hotspur,
“The speaking thick which Nature made his blemish
Became the accents of the valiant;”
so the students of moral philosophy admiringly exerted themselves to imitate their professor’s peculiarities in pronunciation and manner of address.
At this period the men of letters in the Scottish capital projected and commenced the first “Edinburgh Review;” and Smith, besides contributing an article on Dr. Johnson’s “Dictionary,” addressed a letter to the editors, containing observations on the state of literature in the different countries of Europe. This effort at the establishment of a great Northern periodical proved premature, and it was reserved for another generation of “modern Athenians” to realize such a scheme. After two numbers the journal spread its wings no more, and the copies are now remarkably rare.