Kay’s series of portraits and caricature etchings enable the curious inquirer not only to have before him the style of dress and appearance of the author of the “Wealth of Nations” at this period, but even to form a tolerably accurate conception of what a day with him must have ordinarily been. One seems to see him, as he is prepared after breakfast to set out for the Custom House, standing before the table, with his cane in one hand, and the other on some page of his latest work, which lies open before him. He descends the stair, and issues slowly into the street, muttering to himself, and indulging in a laugh, which must be very favorable to the digestion of his morning meal. And what can it be that excites his risibility? Is he chuckling over the solution of some knotty problem in political science, or does the manly and dignified figure of his acquaintance, Lord Rockville, in the distance, recall to his memory the never-ending joke about the Grassmarket pavement, having one evening most suddenly risen up and struck that urbane and polished legal sage in the face? These two fishwomen, whom he meets, look as if they had some notion; but no, by St. Bride! the weather-beaten jades really mistake the philosopher for a lunatic, and express their surprise that he is not in custody. He neither sees nor hears them, however, but continues to laugh and soliloquize. “Heigh, sirs! isn’t that waesome?” ejaculates one, as she shakes her head and becomes mute from very pity. “And he’s so well put on, too!” observed the other, with a sigh, as she marked his careful attire, from the cocked hat and flowing wig to the ruffles at his wrists and the buckles on his shoes. Our venerable hero now approaches the Custom House, and as he reaches the door, the gigantic porter, who keeps guard, salutes him with ceremonious formality. But what is the Economist about now? Exercising his muscles, or teaching the big janitor sword exercise? Not at all. He is only, with the most complete unconsciousness of doing any thing of the kind, imitating with his gold-headed cane every flourish that the man has made, before entering the building where the Board is sitting for the transaction of business connected with the collection of the revenue. He exchanges courteous salutations with his colleagues, among whom are a tall, stately scion of the noble house of Cochrane, and Capt. Edgar, a gentleman of eccentric habits, but a thorough man of the world, and valued by the Doctor, because, being rather out of place at a Customs’ Board, and luckily an excellent classical scholar, he is quite ready to devote the official hours to the task of amusing the philosopher. Accordingly, this personage, celebrated in verse as the _beau dîneur_, and Dr. Smith, renowned for having taught the world how nations are bound together by the reciprocal benefits of commerce, occupy their time with the recitation of passages from the Greek authors. Then a