MISCELLANEOUS.

WE had occasion, in the number of April last, to say something about the Writers, or New-York Society, who swarmed at that time; in doing which we were so unfortunate as to offend the Revue du Nouveau-Monde, who rapped us severely over the knuckles in the journal of the following fortnight.

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Now the Societists have vanished. The Day-Book soon used up his scanty materials. The Lorgnette exhausted our patience, and the Revue du NouveauMonde wore out his subscription list. Multis ille bonis flebilis—we mean the Revue. He died gallantly, laying stoutly about him with an epilogue among the non-subscribing public. Stupids," ," he cries, "I had only a few subscribers; they were lecteurs d'elite. For you, I soared too high. I wrote for fiery youth, ardente à jouir, not for mature fogyism, which reads the Journal of Commerce. I gave philosophical and literary articles de grande portée, to you who have no portee, except in carrying over a balance. I gave you, slow creatures, who spend your evenings at home with your wives, jewels of stories about those of other men; des joyaux d' un fini d'une delicatesse-sacrebleu!-full of sound French sentiment, and lively love scenes, ending abruptly with pregnant asterisks: matters which the riper intelligence of Europe appreciates, but you are not up to that sort of thing yet, my poor fellows! You read your stupid papers and magazines, and conceive of nothing better. Like the boor at the supper of Apicius, you prefer pork to peacock's brains, and beer to limonade gaTherefore I have stopped. The more shame for you!"

zeuse.

For ourselves, we regretted the fate of the Revue. So early lost! The feeling that we had never been subscribers, and were thus in some measure guilty of its demise, added to our sorrow. But it was not our fault. We did

not deserve these reproaches. We felt that we had drunk deeply of the coupe de la vie, and could claim to be lecteurs d'elite. We knew that we were French in our principles; loved wicked women and asterisks; that we were, in a word, capable of appreciating the Crise and Leonora Zorsi; but-shall we confess it ?—we had not the six dollars. Our only disposable literary fund had long since been invested in Blackwood's and the Edinburgh, tiresome journals, which too often, alas! are not above a niveau ordinaire.

About the same time last spring, the Home Journal distinguished itself by three clever papers on Polka Society, signed Pensez-y. They were done by a man who knew his subject thoroughly, and they were very well done. Yet Pensez-y could hardly have furnished another article. There is little material for describing, or for moralizing among extremely young persons, who think of nothing, and do nothing but work out their redowas and German cotillions. In truth, such a Society must be as innocent and as uninteresting as an eclogue. No occasion for asterisks-violent exercise proverbially keeps down the deviland verily they keep him down, and the polka up, until you can say of an American belle, what Ovid sang of the Nymph Echo-Vox tantum atque ossa supersunt-sharp bones and shrill tones.

This somewhat exhausted theme has been exported to England by an enterprising scribbler. Since May last, four or five articles have appeared in Frazer, on Society in America, "by a New-Yorker"-by a native American unmistakably-born and nurtured under the star-spangled banner; one might even think the hero of the tales a native of Plato's amusing ultra democracy, in which "the puppies looked more pert and the asses more independent than elsewhere." There is a briskness, a self-contented smartness about our unknown societypainter, which is charming. Our readers will certainly feel an interest to know what the model-being is like, who is sent abroad, to the World's Fair, as it were, as a specimen of the American gentleman-and our country friends may be pleased to learn what the correct get-up is for a visit to the city. They shall

The author describes the pattern-man at the start. He is "five feet ten in his boots, which help him an inch”-thin legs-moustache feeble and dyed—“ hair glossy as a woman's"--" extremities delicately small"- 'his figure more slender

in the waist and hollow in the back than one would have expected from his height." This is the natural Adam, unadorned, and knowing how true the saying is: Le costume c'est l'homme, the author dresses his hollow-backed and slender-waisted sample in costumes varied as Proteus, and variegated as Arlequins. Like M. Vieuxbois, in Topfer's caricatures, who, change de linge at every event in his career, M. Model presents himself in a different garb on every page radiant in the artistic triumphs of Beman and of Brooks.

It is winter, clear, cold, and good sleighing. The model-man, who is named Benson, drives a fast horse and a fast friend out on the Third Avenue, has trials of speed with various teams, and meets distinguished New-Yorkers. Benson is accoutred on this occasion in “a very white overcoat, with a white velvet collar, and large white silk buttons, and very black pantaloons, chequered with a white bar, so large that there is not more than a square and a-half of the figure on each leg"- for a muffler he wears a red India scarf, leaving a little aperture under the knot at the throat, to let us have a glimpse at the diamond pin that fastens his red and black satin long cravat." The chaste effect is completed by an otter-skin cap. Mr. Benson returns home safely, and dines with his grandfather, "old Backus."

Shortly after his drive, the model commits matrimony with a young lady of Dutch descent, clever, pretty, with a dash of the devil in her. As a preparatory measure, he sends to his father-in-law's house "seven coats, twelve pairs of trowsers, thirty waistcoats, no end of linen, carpet-bag, smoking cap, and numerous cigars.' We hope the partner of his bliss did not learn to smoke them. On this great occasion he appears "in a mulberry blue coat, resplendent with gilt buttons, and white satin skirt-lining"-his white-watered, satin waistcoat, three inches too long for him, "is set off by a heavy gold chain, streaming down from a little watch-pocket under his left arm, to the lowest button-hole, where it fastens." A flagrant case of purple and fine linen! Purple by Brookslinen by Beman. In the embroidered cambric bosom sparkle three splendid diamonds, set in dark blue enamel." A lace tie-" little white hand and fine sapphire ring" complete this costume, which must have made the bride the envy of her female friends. The groom's men are despatched briefly, as Virgil does the trusty companions of Eneas: fortem que Gyan, fortem que Cloanthum—the flashy Ludlow, and the flashy Vanhorne.

A year or more has passed; a "beautiful boy" totters about the country house, in which the model-man receives an English friend, Ashburner, who “ certainly never saw a handsomer couple." Certainly Ashburner never saw a more gorgeous male unless in the land of Cockatoos. "He wore, (model, of course,) a magnificent shawl-pattern dressing-gown, orange cashmere without, rose silk within, confined at the waist by a tasselled cord, that looked like a superior style of bell-pull; very wide light-blue trowsers, slippers of the same color, embroidered in gold, a blue and white silk cravat, and a red smoking cap." After allowing Ashburner to recover from the dazzle, the indefatigable Benson changes the many colored robes for a "cutaway," a "long-napped white beaver," "cloth boots, tipped with patent leather, like a woman's"-and ordering his redwheeled wagon, drives the Britisher to his hotel, makes him drink three sherry cobblers in rapid succession; takes him home again to Devilshoof, and treats him well, except in the matter of leaving his magazine articles "where he was sure Ashburner could read them." This was taking an ungenerous advantage of a stranger-guest. Ashburner and the family next betake themselves to a watering place, Oldport. They experience on the road the American stage, the American rail-way, and the American bug, de nuit, concerning whom Benson makes a joke, which we hope is not intended for a model-pleasantry. They met a French Vicomte-a pleasant fellow-and arrive safely at Oldport-Description of Oldport, and watering places generally. The model introduces his

English friend to types of American beaux, and enumerates the "rig" of types. Previously, however, model had arrayed himself in the extreme of summer costume a very thin, white grass-cloth coat, about the consistency of brown paper, so transparent as to make the lilac pattern of his check shirt distinctly visible through the arms of it, white duck vest, white drilled trowsers, long white napped hut, a speckled cravat, to match his shirt, highly-varnished shoes, with red and white striped stockings-altogether very fresh and innocent-looking." Mrs. Model, also very fresh and innocent-looking, dances with the types, and flirts with the types. Model abuses an acquaintance, nicknamed "the bird," who "nursed him like a brother in a dangerous illness on the frontier;" and model swears snobbishly in Spanish, and "spits ostentatiously" at two gentlemen connected with the press. This is all, thus far.

Ourselves have never enjoyed Mr. Willis' or Mr. Lorguette's advantages in the fashionable world, and cannot say if this picture is correct there. But in the name of the democracy we protest against such dressing and such doings. Mulberry and orange! lilac and rose! blue and red! what Pawnee in his war point, or what North River sloop in her streaks was ever more like a rainbow? No! dear country friends! a thousand times better is your simple national costume black throughout; satin for the waistcoat, and kersey mere for the continuations.

Who the author of these papers may be, we cannot guess. It is supposed that they are the production of a literary tailor, sus minerram the heat of whose goose has mounted to his brain. We incline to this opinion. For, who except a tailor or a woman ever thought a hollow back an anatomical beauty in a man? Observe how accurate the "New-Yorker" is in his sartorial details, and what a professional pleasure he takes in dwelling upon them. A mere mortal would have been contented with writing: "Benson wore a white coat;" but your Schneider adds naturally, "with a white velvet collar and large white silk buttons." The same thing again at Oldport, he gives us the materials of Benson's Dummer clothes: duck, grass-cloth, drilling; the check shirt has a lilac pattern and the cravat is speckled. Why, any snip could cut from this descriptionand that little aperture under the knot at the throat, to let us have a glimpse of the diamond pin," &c., is an inimitable touch which reveals the tasteful hand of the "getter up for cash only." Remark too, what manner of man the sample is flashy in dress; partaking of the gent; prattling about his conversations with Webster and Clay, his wine and his wagon wheels, his magazine articles and his stump speeches-hinting at fastness in early life, and in distant countries such as setting fire to grisettes in Paris, and to chimneys in Naples; ungrateful to the man who nursed him like a brother, because he is not in "our set;" spitting ostentatiously at poor devils who are in no set at all; is not this a 'man-milliner's ideal of a gentleman and a gentleman's ideal of a snob? And all this costumery, jewelry, perfumery of model and wife, this medley of Edwards, Whites, and Ludlows, who dance the polka, and travel in Greece, is sent out to Fraser as a sketch of American society. The two reporters who caused the expectoration of the model could not have traduced it more.

Clearly these sketches are a tailor's revery. Some cutter fondly saw himself in dreams of fashion: dashing, clever, fast. What induced him to ease his mind in Fraser-whether to kill time, or to appease the scribbling demon who is remorseless when once aroused, or because he had committed a nuisance" in patrios cineres, as the poet suggests, non satis apparet. At all events, in describing his brilliant appearance in fancy-land, he makes the usual mistake of underbred people, and runs over into petulance, swagger, and snobbishness. Not that we object to his papers. Quite the reverse. We like them. They are amusing. We only wish to change the caption. They should be entitled: "A tailor-type view of American Society," or, after the manner of Alton Locke, Harry Benson, tailor and magazine writer."

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NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS.

THE GIFT BOOK OF THE REPUBLIC.-THE GALLERY OF ILLUSTRIOUS AMERICANS.Brady, D'Avignon & Lester, New-York, 1851.

This great national work, which has now been twelve months in course of publication, is just issued complete, in its first series. The second part will come out during the year 1851. This portion, however, is perfect by itself, and as such we now notice it. The design of the publishers was to bring out the most magnificent national work ever published, and they have done it. No such portraits have ever been made of our public men, and better ones could not be desired. The work is published on drawing paper, 17 by 23 inches--and now in tasteful bindings, "The Gallery of Illustrious Americans, is the noblest ornament to a library or drawing-room ever issued. The biographies are written by C. Edwards Lester, the editor, and one of the proprietors of the work. Mr. Lester has long been known as one of the most popular and powerful of our American writers. But these sketches will doubtless be regarded as his ablest production. The work has been, perhaps, more generally noticed with favor than any of its contemporaries. We have seen nothing said against it—and nothing could be said. Every American should be proud of such a publication; and those who desire a great work, which is embellished with exquisite engravings, and will forever mark the middle of this century with a splendid monument to our great men, should possess this Gallery.

We are glad to see, that the publishers have made arrangements to send a finely bound copy of the Gallery to any part of the United States, whenever $15 are forwarded to them by mail, to their address, 205 Broadway, New-York.

CHANTICLEER, A THANKSGIVING STORY OF THE PEABODY FAMILY. Second Edition. J. S. Redfield, New-York.

When a writer makes a hit, one of the best evidences of the fact is, that every body is set wondering why he or somebody else did not do it before. It is the new version of the old story of Columbus making the egg stand, so often repeated in various forms, and to be repeated, we trust, many times to come; for invention, we would fain hope, is never to grow old and die.

Here we have been reading Christmas books from our childhood, enjoying them, and regarding them as much component parts of the pleasures of that happy season as the Christmas greens of the churches, or the plum pudding of the tables. Yet, at Thanksgiving, so near a neighbor to holy father Christmas, no one has ever thought of tickling our mental as well as our physical palates. Thanks then to the anonymous gentleman, since anonymous he chooses to be, who has at last broken the egg for us; who has dished Chanticleer in a book, as he has long since figured in propria persona, at the head of the family feast. Never was a better seasoning bestowed upon him than the author's sprightly wit and genial humor affords us.

Chanticleer is of course a story of American life-of country life-of New-England life-to which we New-Yorkers are not to object, New-England being the unquestion able father-land of Thanksgiving. The author, however, by the happy device of assembling the scattered members of a numerous family round the home's fireside of a sire, whose head is whitened by the cares, though his eye is bright with the remembered joys of a hundred winters, has succeeded in giving his work a truly national interest. We have representatives from all parts of the wide domain of American soil, or Ameri can enterprise. Thus we have the fine lady from the city, the broad-shouldered, hardfisted farmer from Ohio, the hardy, sun-bronzed sea captain from his broad seas; and last, not least in moping, the black cook, a representative of a humble, but not unimportant class of our varied social constitution. After this bill of fare, our readers will naturally expect a slice or two of the dainty we have commended to them, but we shall be compelled to refer them to the complete dish.

THE ARTIST'S CHROMATIC HAND-BOOK. being a Practical Treatise on Pigments; their properties and uses in painting, to which is added a few remarks on vehicles and varnishes. By John P. Ridner. George P. Putnam, 155 Broadway.

This is a most useful and reliable work on the nature and properties of colors.

THE WORLD'S PROGRESS, a Dictionary of Dates, with Tabular Views of General History, and an Historical Chart. Edited by Geo. P. Putnam, Member of the American Ethnological Society; of New-York Historical Society; Honorary Member of Connecticut Historical Society, etc. George P. Putnam, 155 Broadway.

That an eminent publisher may also be a maker of admirable books, the present volume affords decisive and agreeable evidence. It is an amplification, as the author informs us in his preface, of a Chronological Manual, compiled by himself, at the age of fifteen. This, with improvements and additions brought down to the present year, including contemporary tables, form a work of extraordinary utility, not only to the reader of history, but as a work of constant reference in every library. Almost every important historical event is arranged in alphabetical order, with date, and short sketches of the facts. The obvious convenience of such a work will strike every one.

POEMS OF HOPE AND ACTION. By Mr. Oland Bourne. George P. Putnam, 155 Broadway. A collection of poems of much merit.

THE DISTRICT SCHOOL AS IT WAS. By one who went to it. Boston: Phillips, Sampson & Co.

This is a very pleasant narrative of a supposed school-boy, at a New-England District School, representing its operations in contrast with the more improved system of the present day.

THE MINISTRY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. By Henry James Slack, F. S. S. of the Middle Temple. A. Hart: (late Carey & Hart,) Philadelphia.

This is a series of conversations of a most attractive and agreeable nature.

POPULAR EDUCATION: for the use of Parents and Teachers, and for Young Persons of both sexes, prepared and published in accordance with a resolution of the Senate and House of Representatives of Michigan. By Ira Mayhew, A. M. Harper Brothers, 82 Cliff-street.

This is a most able and elaborate treatise, embracing physical, moral, and intellectual education, with the proper training of the five senses. It is the philosophy of the freeschool system, and should be widely read.

THE ADVENTURES OF DAVID COPPERFIELD THE YOUNGER. By Charles Dickens, with Illustrations by H. K. Browne. Lea, Blanchard & Co., Philadelphia.

This is a very neat edition of this most popular work, called the last of Dickens'. It has five illustrations, and is sold at the low price of 37 cents.

THE TWO BROTHERS: or the Family that Lived in the First Society. A Novel. A. Hart: (late Carey & Hart,) Philadelphia.

A very interesting work, complete in one volume, at 50 cents.

THE GALLERY OF ILLUSTRIOUS AMERICANS. New-York: published from Brady's Gallery.

The eleventh number of this great national work is illustrated with an admirable. portrait of W. E. Channing, the great American genius. It affords another unmis takable proof of D'Avignon's unrivalled genius and masterly power as an artist. The brief letter-press sketch of the life and character of Mr. Channing, by C. Edwards Lester, scarcely covering two pages, affords one of the finest specimens of comprehensive biography that we have ever seen. It condenses many things in a few words; and that without sacrificing that graceful elegance of diction which characterizes the best efforts of the gifted editor.

THE PARADISE LOST. By John Milton, with Notes Historical and Critical. Edited by Rev. James Robert Boyd, author, &c. Baker & Scribner, New-York.

This greatest epic in the English language has been produced in an elegant and substantial style, by the Messrs. Baker & Scribuer. A new edition was much wanted, and it has been supplied with taste and skill at a cheap rate, by this enterprising house.