again.” “Why,” cried Burke, “I have already been in a minority nineteen years, and your two years, Mr. Smith, will make me twenty-one years, and it will surely be high time for me then to be in my majority!” Before the end of May a dark cloud came over Smith’s life, for his mother passed away in her ninetieth year. Four years later her death was followed by that of his cousin, Miss Douglas. Their loss was irreparable. “They had been the objects of his affection for more than sixty years, and in their society he had enjoyed from his infancy all that he ever knew of the endearments of a family.”[47] Late in the autumn of 1784 Faujas de Saint-Fond, the geologist, visited Edinburgh after some adventurous discoveries in the Hebrides. During his fortnight’s stay “that venerable philosopher Adam Smith” was one of those whom he visited most frequently. “He received me on every occasion in the kindest manner, and studied to procure for me every kind of information and amusement that the town afforded.” Smith’s library, he says, bore evidence of his tour in France and his stay in Paris. “All our best French authors occupied prominent places on his shelves. He was very fond of our language.” On one occasion when Saint-Fond was at tea in Panmure House, Smith spoke of Rousseau “with a kind of religious respect,” and compared him with Voltaire. “The latter,” he said, “sought to correct the vices and follies of mankind by laughing at them, and sometimes by treating them with severity; but Rousseau catches his reader in the net of reason by the attraction of sentiment and the force of conviction. His _Social Contract_ may well avenge him one day for all his persecutions.” Smith’s features became very animated when he spoke of Voltaire, “whom he had known and greatly loved.” One day Adam Smith asked his visitor if he liked music, and said, on hearing that he did: “I am very glad of it; I shall put you to a proof which will be very interesting for me, for I shall take you to hear a sort of music of which it is impossible you can have formed any idea, and I shall be delighted to find how it strikes you.” The annual bagpipe competition was to take place next day, and Smith came to Saint-Fond’s lodgings next morning at nine o’clock, and conducted him to a spacious concert-room full of people; but neither musicians, nor orchestra, nor instruments were to be seen. A large space was reserved in the middle of the room and occupied by gentlemen only, who, said his guide, were Highlanders come to judge of the performances. The prize was for the best executed piece of Highland music, and the same air was to be played successively by all the competitors. After some delay a door opened and a kilted Highlander advanced into the hall:—