Almost since the world began, people have been interested in and entertained by gossip respecting the personal habits and individual idiosyncrasies of popular writers and orators. It is a universal and undying characteristic of human nature. No age has been exempt from it from PLINY'S time down to BEECHER'S. It may suitably be called the scarlet-fever of curiosity, and rash indeed must be the writer who refuses or neglects to furnish any food for the scandal-monger's maw. While we deprecate in the strongest terms the custom which persists in lifting the veil of personality from the forehead of the great, respect for traditional usages and obligation to the present, as well as veneration for the future, impels us to reveal some things that are not generally known concerning the men who are playing "leading business" on the world's great stage of to-day. For instance, mankind is generally ignorant of the fact that Mr. SUMNER bathes twice a day in a compound, two thirds of which is water and one third milk, and that he dictates most of his speeches to a stenographer while reclining in the bath-tub. WENDELL PHILLIPS is said to have written the greater portion of his famous lecture on "The Lost Arts" on the backs of old envelopes while waiting for a train in the Boston depot. Mr. GEORGE W. CURTIS prepares his mind for writing by sleeping with his head encased in a nightcap lined with leaves of lavender and rose. GRANT, it is said, accomplishes most of his writing while under the influence of either opium or chloroform, which will account for the soothing character of his state papers. WALT WHITMAN writes most of his poetry in the dissecting-room of the Medical College, where he has a desk fitted up in close proximity to the operating table. Mr. DANA is said to write most of his editorials in one of the parlors of the Manhattan Club, arrayed in black broadcloth from the sole of his head to the crown of his foot, his hands encased in corn- colored kids, a piece of chewing-gum in his mouth, and a bottle of Cherry Pectoral by his side. The report that he eats fish every morning for his breakfast is untrue: he rejects FISH. COLFAX writes all his speeches and lectures with his feet in hot water, and his head wrapped in a moist towel. His greatest vice, next to being Vice-President, is to insist upon having his writing desk in front of a mirror. BUTLER accomplishes most of his literary labor over a dish of soup, which he absorbs through the medium of two of his favorite weapons, thus keeping both his hands employed, and dictating to an amanuensis every time his mouth enjoys a vacation. BEECHER has several methods by which he prepares his mind to write a sermon: By riding up and down Broadway on the top of a stage; visiting the Academy of Anatomy, or spending a few hours at the Bloomingdale Retreat. Neither HOLMES nor WHITTIER are able to write a line of poetry until they are brought in contact with the blood of freshly-slain animals; while, on the