On the afternoon of an autumnal day in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, two gentlemen, who had considerably passed the prime of life, and looked like confirmed, but highly-respectable bachelors, as indeed they were, might have been observed to leave the vicinity of the South Bridge of Edinburgh at a leisurely pace. They had just succeeded in negotiating the hire of a room, where, with several of their literary friends, they proposed to hold a convivial meeting once during every week of the winter that was coming on. In pretty light spirits, from having proved themselves men of the world by bringing this important matter to a satisfactory conclusion, they were――it might be――discussing and denouncing the ridiculous prejudice, as they believed it to be, which prevented their countrymen making use of snails as an ordinary article of food, and vowing that they would, ere long set an example in this respect which should have the effect of divesting the public mind of such an absurd delusion; though it must be confessed, that when they did attempt to execute this bold intention they suddenly discovered that their appetites had taken an unceremonious flight. Each of these personages was distinguished by amiability of character, and utter unconsciousness of the guile and wickedness that prevailed around him. Their studies and pursuits were somewhat similar; and though frequently taking opposite views of debated questions, they were ever bosom friends. But in dress and manner they presented a striking contrast. One wore on his slender but active person garments plain to affectation, and might have easily passed for a member of the Society of Friends but for his cocked hat. He conversed with force and animation, always displaying much original information; but the accents that came from his lips, which parted while listening, were undiluted Scotch; and his bearing was so remarkably simple, that it was necessary to mark the thin, intellectual face, the high, thoughtful forehead, and the keen, penetrating eye, before being aware that he had “stuff” in him, or was more than an ordinary citizen. The other was of a different stamp. He wore a sort of academic dress; but it had received such careful and harmonious additions, as proved that he was by no means indifferent to external decorations and the propriety of costume. His aspect was comely and prepossessing; his manner was correct and graceful; he was evidently a person of elegant tastes and no inconsiderable refinement; and he used a musical voice to speak good English, with a punctilious accuracy of expression not often heard so far north at that time.