foregoing narrative, will, I hope, forgive the liberty I take in tran scribing one paragraph in his own words: "In October 1766,, we "returned to London, after having spent near three years together, "without the flighteft difagreement or coolnefs;---on my part, with every advantage that could be expected from the society of fuch

a man. We continued to live in friendship till the hour of his “death; and I fhall always remain with the impreffion of having "loft a friend whom I loved and respected, not only for his great "talents, but for every private virtue."

The retirement in which Mr. SMITH paffed his next ten years, formed a striking contrast to the unfettled mode of life he had been for fome time accustomed to, but was fo congenial to his natural difpofition, and to his firft habits, that it was with the utmost difficulty he was ever perfuaded to leave it. During the whole of this period, (with the exception of a few vifits to Edinburgh and London,) he remained with his mother at Kirkaldy; occupied habitually in intense study, but unbending his mind at times in the company of fome of his old fchool-fellows, whofe "fober wishes" had attached them to the place of their birth. In the fociety of fuch men, Mr. SMITH delighted; and to them he was endeared, not only by his fimple and unaffuming manners, but by the perfect knowledge they all poffeffed of those domestic virtues which had distinguished him from his infancy.

Mr. HUME, who (as he tells us himself) confidered "a town as "the true fcene for a man of letters," made many attempts to feduce him from his retirement. In a letter, dated in 1772, he urges him to pass some time with him in Edinburgh. "I fhall not take any excufe from your ftate of health, which I fuppose only a "fubterfuge invented by indolence and love of folitude. Indeed, dear SMITH, if you continue to hearken to complaints of this

my

"nature,

❝ nature, you will cut yourself out entirely from human society, to the great loss of both parties." In another letter, dated in 1769, from his houfe in James's Court, (which commanded a prospect of the frith of Forth, and of the opposite coast of Fife,)“ I am glad

(fays he) to have come within fight of you; but as I would also be "within speaking terms of you, I wish we could concert measures "for that purpose. I am mortally fick at fea, and regard with "horror and a kind of hydrophobia the great gulph that lies be86 tween us. I am also tired of travelling, as much as you ought naturally to be of staying at home. I therefore propose to you to come hither, and pass some days with me in this folitude. I want to know what you have been doing, and propose to exact a " rigorous account of the method in which you have employed "yourself during your retreat. I am pofitive you are in the wrong

" in many of your speculations, especially where you have the mif"fortune to differ from me. All these are reafons for our meeting, " and I wish you would make me some reasonable propofal for that purpose. There is no habitation in the island of Inchkeith, other"wife I should challenge you to meet me on that spot, and neither "of us ever to leave the place, till we were fully agreed on all points "of controversy. I expect General CONWAY here to-morrow, "whom I fhall attend to Rofeneath, and I fhall remain there a few "days. On my return, I hope to find a letter from you, containing a bold acceptance of this defiance."

66

At length (in the beginning of the year 1776) Mr. SMITH accounted to the world for his long retreat, by the publication of his Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations." A letter of congratulation on this event, from Mr. HUME, is now before me. It is dated 1ft April 1776, (about fix months before Mr. HUME's death,) and discovers an amiable folicitude about his friend's

friend's literary fame. "Euge! Belle! Dear Mr. SMITH: I am much pleased with your performance, and the perufal of it has taken me from a ftate of great anxiety. It was a work of fo much expectation, by yourself, by your friends, and by the public, "that I trembled for its appearance; but am now much relieved. "Not but that the reading of it neceffarily requires so much attention, " and the public is disposed to give fo little, that I shall still doubt "for fome time of its being at firft very popular. But it has depth "and folidity and acuteness, and is so much illustrated by curious facts, that it muft at laft take the public attention. It is probably "much improved by your last abode in London. If you were here at my fire-fide, I should dispute some of your principles.

But these, and a hundred other points, fit only to be difcuffed in conversation. I hope it will be foon; "for I am in a very bad state of health, and cannot afford a long

are

delay."

Of a book which is now fo univerfally known as "The Wealth "of Nations," it might be confidered perhaps as fuperfluous to give a particular analysis; and at any rate, the limits of this effay make it impoffible for me to attempt it at present. A few remarks, however, on the object and tendency of the work, may, I hope, be introduced without impropriety. The hiftory of a Philofopher's life can contain little more than the hiftory of his fpeculations; and in the case of such an author as Mr. SMITH, whofe ftudies were fyftematically directed from his youth to fubjects of the last importance to human happiness, a review of his writings, while it ferves to illuftrate the peculiarities of his genius, affords the most faithful picture of his character as a man.

SECTION IV.

Of The Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations *.

ΑΝ

N hiftorical review of the different forms under which human affairs have appeared in different ages and nations, naturally fuggefts the queftion, Whether the experience of former times may not now furnish fome general principles to enlighten and direct the policy of future legiflators? The difcuffion, however, to which this question leads is of fingular difficulty; as it requires an accurate analysis of by far the most complicated clafs of phænomena that can poffibly engage our attention, those which result from the intricate and often the imperceptible mechanism of political fociety;a fubject of obfervation which feems, at firft view, fo little commenfurate to our faculties, that it has been generally regarded with the fame paffive emotions of wonder and submission, with which, in the material world, we furvey the effects produced, by the myfterious and uncontroulable operation of physical caufes.. It is fortunate that upon this, as on many other occafions, the difficulties which had long baffled the efforts of folitary genius begin to appear lefs formidable to the united exertions of the race; and that in proportion as the experience and the reasonings of different individuals are brought to bear upon the fame objects, and are combined in fuch a manner as to illuftrate and to limit each other, the

* The length to which this Memoir has already extended, together with fome other reafons which it is unneceffary to mention here, have induced me, in printing the following fection, to confine myself to a much more general view of the subject than I once intended.

fcience

science of politics affumes more and more that fyftematical form which encourages and aids the labours of future enquirers.

In profecuting the science of politics on this plan, little affiflance is to be derived from the fpeculations of ancient philofophers, the greater part of whom, in their political enquiries, confined their attention to a comparison of different forms of government, and to an examination of the provifions they made, for perpetuating their own existence, and for extending the glory of the ftate. It was referved for modern times to inveftigate thofe univerfal principles of juftice and of expediency, which ought, under every form of go vernment, to regulate the focial order; and of which the object is, to make as equitable a distribution as poffible, among all the different members of a community, of the advantages arifing from the political

union.

7

The invention of printing was perhaps necessary to prepare the way for these researches. In thofe departments of literature and of fcience, where genius finds within itself the materials of its labours; in poetry, in pure geometry, and in some branches of moral philosophy; the ancients have not only laid the foundations on which we are to build, but have left great and finished models for our imitation. But in phyfics, where our progress depends on an immenfe collec tion of facts, and on a combination of the accidental lights daily ftruck out in the innumerable walks of obfervation and experiment; and in politics, where the materials of our theories are equally fcattered, and are collected and arranged with ftill greater difficulty, the means of communication afforded by the press have, in the course of two centuries, accelerated the progress of the human mind, far beyond what the most fanguine hopes of our predeceffors could have imagined.

The