Should it not be added that these errant minstrels of ancient family, decayed circumstances, and courtly manners, had their faces lamp-blacked, and carried bones and banjos, and sang songs in negro slang with gurgling choruses? Some such professors we have occasionally seen parading the streets of English towns, although we are not aware of their being customarily welcomed in drawing-rooms. We ask Mr Herman Melville to explain to us his intention in this sort of writing. Does it contain some subtle satire, imperceptible to our dull optics? Does he mean it to be humorous? Or is he writing seriously? (although that seems scarcely possible,) and does he imagine he is here recording a common English custom? If this last be the case, we strongly urge him immediately to commence a work "On the Manners and Customs of the British Isles." We promise him a review, and guarantee the book's success. But we have not quite done with Harry Bolton, and may as well finish him off whilst our hand is in. Objections being found to troubadourising in New York, the notion of a clerkship is started, Harry being a good penman; and this brings on a discussion about hands, and Redburn utterly scouts the idea of slender fingers and small feet being indicative of gentle birth and far descent, because the half-caste paupers in Lima are dainty-handed and wee-footed, and moreover, he adds, with crushing force of argument, a fish has no feet at all! But poor Harry's tender digits and rosy nails have grievously suffered from the pollution of tar-pots, and the rough contact of ropes, and oftentimes he bewails his hand's degradation, and sighs for the palmy days when it handed countesses to their coaches, and pledged Lady Blessington, and ratified a bond to Lord Lovely, &c. &c. All which is abundantly tedious and commonplace, and will not bear dwelling upon.