“We shall never,” wrote Sir Walter Scott in some recollections of these “old Northern Lights,” which appeared in an early number of the _Quarterly Review_, “forget one particular evening when he [Smith] put an elderly maiden lady who presided at the tea-table to sore confusion by neglecting utterly her invitation to be seated, and walking round and round the circle, stopping ever and anon to steal a lump from the sugar basin, which the venerable spinster was at length constrained to place on her own knee, as the only method of securing it from his uneconomical depredations. His appearance mumping the eternal sugar was something indescribable.” Sir Walter was a schoolfellow of young David Douglas; and the incident no doubt took place in Panmure House, where Miss Douglas would naturally preside at the tea-table. Scott had a vivid recollection of Black and Hutton. The former used the English pronunciation, and spoke with punctilious accuracy of expression. He wore the formal full-dress habit then imposed on members of the medical faculty. Dr. Hutton’s dress had the simplicity of a Quaker’s, and he used a broad Scotch accent which often heightened his humour. Sir Walter told an amusing anecdote which may, perhaps, explain why the dining society, founded by the three philosophers, was called the Oyster Club. It so chanced that Black and Hutton had held some discourse together upon the folly of abstaining from feeding on the crustaceous creatures of the land, when those of the sea were considered as delicacies. Snails were known to be nutritious and wholesome, even “sanative” in some cases. The epicures of ancient Rome enumerated the snails of Lucca among the richest and rarest delicacies, and the modern Italians still held them in esteem. So a gastronomic experiment was resolved on. The snails were procured, dieted for a time, then stewed. “A huge dish of snails was placed before them; but philosophers are but men after all; and the stomachs of both doctors began to revolt against the proposed experiment. Nevertheless if they looked with disgust on the snails, they retained their awe for each other; so that each, conceiving the symptoms of internal revolt peculiar to himself, began with infinite exertion to swallow, in very small quantities, the mess which he loathed. Dr. Black at length ‘showed the white feather,’ but in a very delicate manner, as if to sound the opinion of his messmate. ‘Doctor,’ he said in his precise and quiet style, ‘Doctor, do you not think that they taste a little—a very little green?’ ‘D——d green, d——d green indeed!—tak’ them awa’, tak’ them awa’!’ vociferated Dr. Hutton, starting up from table and giving full vent to his feelings.”