CHAPTER III

AT OXFORD

1740-1746. _Aet._ 17-23

Smith left Scotland for Oxford in June 1740, riding the whole way on

horseback, and, as he told Samuel Rogers many years afterwards, being

much struck from the moment he crossed the Border with the richness of

the country he was entering, and the great superiority of its

agriculture over that of his own country. Scotch agriculture was not

born in 1740, even in the Lothians; the face of the country everywhere

was very bare and waste, and, as he was rather pointedly reminded on

the day of his arrival at Oxford, even its cattle were still lean and

poor, compared with the fat oxen of England. Among the stories told of

his absence of mind is one he is said by a writer in the _Monthly

Review_ to have been fond of relating himself whenever a particular

joint appeared on his own table. The first day he dined in the hall at

Balliol he fell into a reverie at table and for a time forgot his

meal, whereupon the servitor roused him to attention, telling him he

had better fall to, because he had never seen such a piece of beef in

Scotland as the joint then before him. His nationality, as will

presently appear, occasioned him worse trouble at Oxford than this

good-natured gibe.

He matriculated at the University on the 7th of July. Professor

Thorold Rogers, who has collected the few particulars that can now be

learned of Smith's residence at Oxford from official records, gives us

the matriculation entry: "Adamus Smith e Coll. Ball., Gen. Fil. Jul.

7mo 1740,"[10] and mentions that it is written in a round school-boy

hand--a style of hand, we may add, which Smith retained to the last.

He has himself said that literary composition never grew easier to him

with experience; neither apparently did handwriting. His letters are

all written in the same big round characters, connected together

manifestly by a slow, difficult, deliberate process.

He remained at Oxford till the 15th of August 1746; after that day his

name appears no longer in the Buttery Books of the College; but up

till that day he resided at Oxford continuously from the time of his

matriculation. He did not leave between terms, and was thus six years

on end away from home. A journey to Scotland was in those days a

serious and expensive undertaking; it would have taken more than half

Smith's exhibition of £40 to pay for the posting alone of a trip to

Kirkcaldy and back. When Professor Rouet of Glasgow was sent up to

London a few years later to push on the tedious twenty years' lawsuit

between Glasgow College and Balliol about the Snell exhibitions, the

single journey cost him £11:15s., exclusive of personal expenses, for

which he was allowed 6s. 8d. a day.[11] Now Smith out of his £40 a

year had to pay about £30 for his food; Mr. Rogers mentions that his

first quarter's maintenance came to £7:5s., about the usual cost of

living, he adds, at Oxford at that period. Then the tutors, though

they seem to have ceased to do any tutoring, still took their fees of

20s. a quarter all the same, and Smith's remaining £5 would be little

enough to meet other items of necessary expenditure. It appears from

Salmon's _Present State of the Universities_, published in 1744,

during Smith's residence at Oxford, that an Oxford education then cost

£32 a year as a minimum, but that there was scarce a commoner in the

University who spent less than £60.

Smith's name does not appear in Bliss's list of Oxford graduates, and

although in Mr. Foster's recent _Alumni Oxonienses_ other particulars

are given about him, no mention is made of his graduation; but

Professor Rogers has discovered evidence in the Buttery Books of

Balliol which seems conclusively to prove that Smith actually took the

degree of B.A., whatever may be the explanation of the apparent

omission of his name from the official graduation records. In those

Buttery Books he is always styled Dominus from and after the week

ending 13th April 1744. Now Dominus was the usual designation of a

B.A., and in April 1744 Smith would have kept the sixteen terms that

were then, we may say, the only qualification practically necessary

for that degree. He had possibly omitted some step requisite for the

formal completion of the graduation.

Smith's residence at Oxford fell in a time when learning lay there

under a long and almost total eclipse. This dark time seems to have

lasted most of that century. Crousaz visited Oxford about the

beginning of the century and found the dons as ignorant of the new

philosophy as the savages of the South Sea. Bishop Butler came there

as a student twenty years afterwards, and could get nothing to satisfy

his young thirst for knowledge except "frivolous lectures" and

"unintelligible disputations." A generation later he could not even

have got that; for Smith tells us in the _Wealth of Nations_ that the

lecturers had then given up all pretence of lecturing, and a foreign

traveller, who describes a public disputation he attended at Oxford in

1788, says the Præses Respondent and three Opponents all sat consuming

the statutory time in profound silence, absorbed in the novel of the

hour. Gibbon, who resided there not long after Smith, tells that his

tutor neither gave nor sought to give him more than one lesson, and

that the conversation of the common-room, to which as a gentleman

commoner he was privileged to listen, never touched any point of

literature or scholarship, but "stagnated in a round of College

business, Tory politics, personal anecdotes, and private scandal."

Bentham, a few years after Gibbon, has the same tale to tell; it was

absolutely impossible to learn anything at Oxford, and the years he

spent there were the most barren and unprofitable of his life. Smith's

own account of the English universities in the _Wealth of Nations_,

though only published in 1776, was substantially true of Oxford during

his residence there thirty years before. Every word of it is endorsed

by Gibbon as the word of "a moral and political sage who had himself

resided at Oxford." Now, according to that account, nobody was then

taught, or could so much as find "the proper means of being taught,

the sciences which it is the business of those incorporated bodies to

teach." The lecturers had ceased lecturing; "the tutors contented

themselves with teaching a few unconnected shreds and parcels" of the

old unimproved traditionary course, "and even these they commonly

taught very negligently and superficially"; being paid independently

of their personal industry, and being responsible only to one another,

"every man consented that his neighbour might neglect his duty

provided he himself were allowed to neglect his own"; and the general

consequence was a culpable dislike to improvement and indifference to

all new ideas, which made a rich and well-endowed university the

"sanctuary in which exploded systems and obsolete prejudices find

shelter and protection after they have been hunted out of every corner

of the world." Coming up from a small university in the North, which

was cultivating letters with such remarkable spirit on its little

oatmeal wisely dispensed, Smith concluded that the stagnation of

learning which prevailed in the wealthy universities of England was

due at bottom to nothing but their wealth, because it was distributed

on a bad system.

Severely, however, as Smith has censured the order of things he found

prevailing at Oxford, it is worthy of notice that he never, like

Gibbon and Bentham, thought of the six years he spent there as being

wasted. Boswell and others have pronounced him ungrateful for the

censures he deemed meet to pass upon that order of things, but that

charge is of course unreasonable, because the censures were undeniably

true and undeniably useful, and I refer to it here merely to point out

that as a matter of fact Smith not only felt, but has publicly

expressed, gratitude for his residence at the University of Oxford. He

does so in his letter to the Principal of Glasgow College in 1787

accepting the Rectorship, when in enumerating the claims which Glasgow

College had upon his grateful regard, he expressly mentions the fact

that it had sent him as a student to Oxford. In truth, his time was

not wasted at Oxford. He did not allow it to be wasted. He read deeply

and widely in many subjects and in many languages; he read and thought

for six years, and for that best kind of education the negligence of

tutors and lecturers, such as they then were, was probably better than

their assiduity.

For this business of quiet reading Smith seems to have been happily

situated in Balliol. Balliol was not then a reading college as it is

now. A claim is set up in behalf of some of the other Oxford colleges

that they kept the lamp of learning lit even in the darkest days of

last century, but Balliol is not one of them. It was chiefly known in

that age for the violence of its Jacobite opinions. Only a few months

after Smith left it a party of Balliol students celebrated the

birthday of Cardinal York in the College, and rushing out into the

streets, mauled every Hanoverian they met, and created such a serious

riot that they were sentenced to two years' imprisonment for it by the

Court of King's Bench; but for this grave offence the master of the

College, Dr. Theophilus Leigh, and the other authorities, had thought

the culprits entitled to indulgence on account of the anniversary they

were celebrating, and had decided that the case would be sufficiently

met by a Latin imposition. If Balliol, however, was not more

enlightened than any of the other colleges of the day, it had one

great advantage, it possessed one of the best college libraries at

Oxford. The Bodleian was not then open to any member of the University

under the rank of a bachelor of arts of two years' standing, and Smith

was only a bachelor of arts of two years' standing for a few months

before he finally quitted Oxford. He could therefore have made little

use of the Bodleian and its then unrivalled treasures, but in his own

college library at Balliol he was allowed free range, and availed

himself of his privilege with only too great assiduity, to the injury

of his health.

His studies took a new turn at Oxford; he laid aside the mathematics

for which he showed a liking at Glasgow, and gave his strength to the

ancient Latin and Greek classics, possibly for no better reason than

that he could get nobody at Oxford to take the trouble of teaching him

the former, and that the Balliol library furnished him with the means

of cultivating the latter by himself. He did so, moreover, to some

purpose, for all through life he showed a knowledge of Greek and Latin

literature not only uncommonly extensive but uncommonly exact. Dalzel,

the professor of Greek at Edinburgh, was one of Smith's most intimate

friends during those latter years of his life when he was generally

found with one of the classical authors before him, in conformity with

his theory that the best amusement of age was to renew acquaintance

with the writers who were the delight of one's youth; and Dalzel used

always to speak to Dugald Stewart with the greatest admiration of the

readiness and accuracy with which Smith remembered the works of the

Greek authors, and even of the mastery he exhibited over the niceties

of Greek grammar.[12] This knowledge must of course have been acquired

at Oxford. Smith had read the Italian poets greatly too, and could

quote them easily; and he paid special care to the French classics on

account of their style, spending much time indeed, we are told, in

trying to improve his own style by translating their writings into

English.

There was only one fruit in the garden of which he might not freely

eat, and that was the productions of modern rationalism. A story has

come down which, though not mentioned by Dugald Stewart, is stated by

M'Culloch to rest on the best authority, and by Dr. Strang of Glasgow

to have been often told by Smith himself, to the effect that he was

one day detected reading Hume's _Treatise of Human Nature_--probably

the very copy presented him by the author at the apparent suggestion

of Hutcheson--and was punished by a severe reprimand and the

confiscation of the evil book. It is at least entirely consistent with

all we know of the spirit of darkness then ruling in Oxford that it

should be considered an offence of peculiar aggravation for a student

to read a great work of modern thought which had been actually placed

in his hands by his professor at Glasgow, and the only wonder is that

Smith escaped so lightly, for but a few years before three students

were expelled from Oxford for coquetting with Deism, and a fourth, of

whom better hopes seem to have been formed, had his degree deferred

for two years, and was required in the interval to translate into

Latin as a reformatory exercise the whole of Leslie's _Short and Easy

Method with the Deists_.[13]

Except for the great resource of study, Smith's life at Oxford seems

not to have been a very happy one. For one thing, he was in poor

health and spirits a considerable part of the time, as appears from

the brief extracts from his letters published by Lord Brougham. When

Brougham was writing his account of Smith he got the use of a number

of letters written by the latter to his mother from Oxford between

1740 and 1746, which probably exist somewhere still, but which, he

found, contained nothing of any general interest. "They are almost

all," he says, "upon mere family and personal matters, most of them

indeed upon his linen and other such necessaries, but all show his

strong affection for his mother." The very brief extracts Brougham

makes from them, however, inform us that Smith was then suffering from

what he calls "an inveterate scurvy and shaking in the head," for

which he was using the new remedy of tar-water which Bishop Berkeley

had made the fashionable panacea for all manner of diseases. At the

end of July 1744 Smith says to his mother: "I am quite inexcusable for

not writing to you oftener. I think of you every day, but always defer

writing till the post is just going, and then sometimes business or

company, but oftener laziness, hinders me. Tar-water is a remedy very

much in vogue here at present for almost all diseases. It has

perfectly cured me of an inveterate scurvy and shaking in the head. I

wish you'd try it. I fancy it might be of service to you." In another

and apparently subsequent letter, however, he states that he had had

the scurvy and shaking as long as he remembered anything, and that the

tar-water had not removed them. On the 29th of November 1743 he makes

the curious confession: "I am just recovered from a violent fit of

laziness, which has confined me to my elbow-chair these three

months."[14] Brougham thinks these statements show symptoms of

hypochondria; but they probably indicate no more than the ordinary

lassitude and exhaustion ensuing from overwork. Hume, when about the

same age, had by four or five years' hard reading thrown himself into

a like condition, and makes the same complaints of "laziness of

temper" and scurvy. The shaking in the head continued to attend Smith

all his days.

But low health was only one of the miseries of his estate at Oxford.

There is reason to believe that Balliol College was in his day a

stepmother to her Scotch sons, and that their existence there was made

very uncomfortable not merely at the hands of the mob of young

gentlemen among whom they were obliged to live, but even more by the

unfair and discriminating harshness of the College authorities

themselves. Out of the hundred students then residing at Balliol,

eight at least were Scotch, four on the Snell foundation and four on

the Warner, and the Scotch eight seem to have been always treated as

an alien and intrusive faction. The Snell exhibitioners were

continually complaining to the Glasgow Senatus on the subject, and the

Glasgow Senatus thought them perfectly justified in complaining. In a

letter of 22nd May 1776, in which they go over the whole long story of

grievances, the Glasgow Senatus tell the Master and Fellows of Balliol

plainly that the Scotch students had never been "welcomely received"

at Balliol, and had never been happy there. If an English

undergraduate committed a fault, the authorities never thought of

blaming any one but himself, but when one of the eight Scotch

undergraduates did so, his sin was remembered against all the other

seven, and reflections were cast on the whole body; "a circumstance,"

add the Senatus, "which has been much felt during their residence at

Balliol." Their common resentment against the injustice of this kind

of tribal accountability that was imposed on them naturally provoked a

common resistance; it developed "a spirit of association," say the

Senatus, which "has at all periods been a cause of much trouble both

to Balliol and to Glasgow Colleges."[15] In 1744, when Smith himself

was one of them, the Snell exhibitioners wrote an account of their

grievances to the Glasgow Senatus, and stated "what they wanted to be

done towards making their residence more easy and advantageous";[16]

and in 1753, when some of Smith's contemporaries would still be on the

foundation, Dr. Leigh, the master of Balliol, tells the Glasgow

Senatus that he had ascertained in an interview with one of the Snell

exhibitioners that what they wanted was to be transferred to some

other college, because they had "a total dislike to Balliol."[17]

This idea of a transference, I may be allowed to add, continued to be

mooted, and in 1776 it was actually proposed by the heads of Balliol

to the Senatus of Glasgow to transfer the Snell foundationers

altogether to Hertford College; but the Glasgow authorities thought

this would be merely a transference of the troubles, and not a remedy

for them, that the exhibitioners would get no better welcome at

Hertford than at Balliol if they came as "fixed property" instead of

coming as volunteers, and that they could never lose their national

peculiarities of dialect and their habits of combination if they came

in a body. Accordingly, in the letter of 22nd May 1776, which I have

already quoted,[18] they recommended the arrangement of leaving each

exhibitioner to choose his own college,--an arrangement, it may be

remembered, which had just then been strongly advocated as a general

principle by Smith in his newly-published _Wealth of the Nations_, on

the broader ground that it would encourage a wholesome competition

between the colleges, and so improve the character of the instruction

given in them all.

Now if the daily relations between the Scotch exhibitioners at Balliol

and the authorities and general members of the College were of the

unhappy description partially revealed in this correspondence, that

may possibly afford some explanation of what must otherwise seem the

entirely unaccountable circumstance that Smith, so far as we are able

to judge, made almost no permanent friends at Oxford. Few men were

ever by nature more entirely formed for friendship than Smith. At

every other stage of his history we invariably find him surrounded by

troops of friends, and deriving from their company his chief solace

and delight. But here he is six or seven years at Oxford, at the

season of manhood when the deepest and most lasting friendships of a

man's life are usually made, and yet we never see him in all his

subsequent career holding an hour's intercourse by word or letter with

any single Oxford contemporary except Bishop Douglas of Salisbury, and

Bishop Douglas had been a Snell exhibitioner himself. With Douglas,

moreover, he had many other ties. Douglas was a Fifeshire man, and may

possibly have been a kinsman more or less remote; he was a friend of

Hume and Robertson, and all Smith's Edinburgh friends; and he was,

like Smith again, a member of the famous Literary Club of London, and

is celebrated in that character by Goldsmith in the poem

"Retaliation," as "the scourge of impostors, the terror of quacks." I

have gone over the names of those who might be Smith's contemporaries

at Balliol as they appear in Mr. Foster's list of _Alumni Oxonienses_,

and they were a singularly undistinguished body of people. Smith and

Douglas themselves are indeed the only two of them who seem to have

made any mark in the world at all.

An allusion has been made to the Scottish dialect of the Snell

exhibitioners; it may be mentioned that Smith seems to have lost the

broad Scotch at Oxford without, like Jeffrey, contracting the narrow

English; at any rate Englishmen, who visited Smith after visiting

Robertson or Blair, were struck with the pure and correct English he

spoke in private conversation, and he appears to have done so without

giving any impression of constraint.

Smith returned to Scotland in August 1746, but his name remained on

the Oxford books for some months after his departure, showing

apparently that he had not on leaving come to a final determination

against going back. His friends at home are said to have been most

anxious that he should continue at Oxford; that would naturally seem

to open to him the best opportunities either in the ecclesiastical

career for which they are believed to have destined him, or in the

university career for which nature herself designed him. But both

careers were practically barred against him by his objection to taking

holy orders, the great majority of the Oxford Fellowships being at

that time only granted upon condition of ordination, and Smith

concluded that the best prospect for him was after all the road back

to Scotland. And he never appears to have set foot in Oxford again.

When he became Professor at Glasgow he was the medium of intercourse

between the Glasgow Senate and the Balliol authorities, but beyond the

occasional interchange of letters which this business required, his

relations with the Southern University appear to have continued

completely suspended. Nor did Oxford, on her part, ever show any

interest in him. Even after he had become perhaps her greatest living

alumnus, she did not offer him the ordinary honour of a doctor's

degree.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Rogers's edition of the _Wealth of Nations_, I. vii.

[11] Laing MSS., Edinburgh University.

[12] Stewart's _Life of Adam Smith_, p. 8.

[13] Tyerman's _Wesley_, i. 66.

[14] Brougham, _Men of Letters_, ii. 216.

[15] Letter from Senatus of Glasgow College to Balliol College, in

Laing MSS., Edinburgh University.

[16] Letter of A.G. Ross of Gray's Inn to Professor R. Simson,

Glasgow, in Edinburgh University Library.

[17] Laing MSS., Edinburgh University.

[18] Edinburgh University Library.

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