ure. Instead of
_writing_ slander and flat blasphemy, the modern method is to _draw_ it,
and not to 'draw it mild' either. The columns of certain papers bear a
striking likeness to a child's alphabet, such as 'A was an Archer, and
shot at a frog.' All the world is now instructed by symbols, as formerly
the deaf and dumb. We have little doubt of shortly seeing announcements,
standing like tomb-stones in those literary cemeteries, the Saturday
papers, of 'A new work upon America, from the graver of GEORGE
CRUIKSHANK;' or 'A new fashionable novel, (diamond edition,) from the
accomplished pencil of 'H. B.'' . . . WE have a '_Query_' from a
Philadelphia correspondent, as to whether Mr. and Mrs. WOOD would not be
likely to come over here, if invited, and in company with BROUGH, and
other artists, establish English opera among us. Touching the disposition
of the WOODS in this matter, we know nothing; but BROUGH is too busily
employed to admit of such a consummation. What with his agency for the new
sporting gun-powder, (which DANIEL WEBSTER declares to be superior in
strength and cleanliness to any other thing of the kind in the world,) and
for the 'Illustrated London News,' 'Old PARR'S Life-pills' etc., he has
scarcely leisure to achieve his private calls, and execute occasionally,
for the gratification of his friends, those charming airs which are
indissolubly associated with his name. . . . Messrs. SNELLING AND
TISDALE'S '_Metropolitan Library and Reading-Room_,' at 599 Broadway, near
Houston-street, supplies an important desideratum in that quarter of the
metropolis. In addition to a well-stocked library and reading-room, there
are coffee, conversation, chess, and cigar-apartments, and all the
belongings of a first establishment after its kind. . . . WE had clipped
for insertion, from a Baltimore journal, a poem in honor of OLE BULL,
entitled '_The Bewitched Fiddle_,' which we have unluckily mislaid or
lost. It was by Mr. HEWITT, a popular song-writer and musical composer,
and was one of the most fanciful and felicitous things we have seen in a
month of Sundays. As it is at this moment out of our power to print it, we
can only counsel our readers, if they encounter it any where, not to fail
of its perusal. . . . WE have a pleasant metropolitan story to tell one of
these days, (at least we think so,) of which we have been reminded by the
following from a late English magazine:

'THE vulgar genteel are nervously cautious