if they have often been surpassed in
depth and originality of speculation, have seldom been equalled for
solid sense and polished ease of diction. The professors at that time
were most of them either taken from the ranks of the clergy, or
closely connected with them.
Among the literary men unconnected with the University by far the
greatest name, that of David Hume, had disappeared about ten years (p. 045)
before Burns arrived in the capital. But his friend, Dr. Adam Smith,
author of _The Wealth of Nations_, still lingered. Mr. Henry Mackenzie,
'The Man of Feeling,' as he was called from his best known work, was
at that time one of the most polished as well as popular writers in
Scotland. He was then conducting a periodical called the _Lounger_,
which was acknowledged as the highest tribunal of criticism in
Scotland, and was not unknown beyond it.
But even more influential than the literary lights of the University
were the magnates of the Bench and Bar. During the eighteenth century
and the earlier part of the nineteenth, the Scottish Bar was recruited
almost entirely from the younger sons of ancient Scottish families. To
the patrician feelings which they brought with them from their homes
these men added that exclusiveness which clings to a profession
claiming for itself the highest place in the city where they resided.
Modern democracy has made rude inroads on what was formerly something
of a select patrician caste. But the profession of the Bar has never
wanted either then or in more recent times some genial and original
spirits who broke through the crust of exclusiveness. Such, at the
time of Burns's advent, was Lord Monboddo, the speculative and
humorous judge, who in his own way anticipated the theory of man's
descent from the monkey. Such, too, was the genial and graceful Henry
Erskine, the brother of the Lord Chancellor of that name, the pride
and the favourite of his profession--the sparkling and ready wit who,
thirteen years before the day of Burns, had met the rude manners of
Dr. Johnson with a well-known repartee. When the Doctor visited the
Parliament House, Erskine was presented to him by Boswell, and was
somewhat gruffly received. After having made his bow, Erskine (p. 046)
slipped a shilling into Boswell's hand, whispering that it was
for the sight of his _bear_!
Besides these two classes, the occupants of the Professorial chair and
of the Bar, there still gathered every winter in Edinburgh
|