NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 209 



lucky moment, for in ten minutes Professor Wilson made his appearance, 

 and requested to be introduced tome. This was followed, instanter, by 

 an invitation to dinner ; in two hour's time I had my feet under his 

 mahogany, and the very name of my host is a sufficient voucher for a 

 most agreeable evening. We talked of every thing but moral philosophy, 

 of which Mr. Wilson is Professor ; but as that celebrated naturalist Mr. 

 James Wilson, the Professor's brother, was one of the party, natural 

 philosophy, which includes fox-hunting, was a frequent topic. " I have 

 been in at more deaths this year, than you will be in at," said this well- 

 known entomologist to me, facetiously; " I have killed one hundred 

 and sixty-four different kinds of beetles." "Indeed!" I replied, " I 

 was not aware there were so many to be found." (Ray only reckons one 

 hundred and fifty-four.) And I wonder how many butterflies you have 

 impaled, thought I, quietly within myself! But I rather like to hear of 

 these scientific tormentors of insect life ; they form somewhat of a set 

 off against the charge of cruelty we fox-hunters labour under, in the 

 torments we inflict upon the animal world. Shakespeare says, 



" The poor beetle that we tread upon, 



In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great 

 As when a giant dies !" 



I am not able to say, exactly, how long the Linlithgow hounds have 



been established, but I believe about fifteen years. They are in the 



hands of a good man named Scott, — commonly called " old Scott" — 



particularly good I was given to understand in the kennel department 



and an excellent servant throughout. He is a Yorkshireman, as his 



tongue proclaims ; and was brought up in the racing stables of Sir 



William Maxwell, and now, as he himself says, " walks fourteen stone 



upon the same legs that carried him when he rode exercise in Sir 



2 E 



