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.