upon the same principle as the preceding, but somewhat more airy;--the _cravate à la gastronome_, which is a narrow neckcloth, without starch, fastened very slightly, so that in cases of incipient suffocation it may be removed at a moment’s notice;--the _cravate de chasse_, or _à la Diane_, which is worn only on the hunting field, and ought to be deep green the _cravate en coquille_, the tie of which resembles a shell, and is very pleasing, though a little finical; the _cravate romantique, à la fidélité, à la Talma, à l’Italienne, à la Russe_, together with the _cravate Jesuitique et diplomatique_, are interesting, and may all be studied to advantage. In concluding these observations, which are meant to rouse, if possible, the attention of a slumbering public to a subject, the vast importance of which the common herd of mankind are too apt to overlook, we cannot help reflecting with feelings of the most painful kind on the very small number of persons who are able to tie their cravats in any thing like a Brummellian or Pe-tershamic style. We call upon our readers, if they value their necks, to show a greater regard for their cravats. They may rest assured that a well-tied cravat is better than the most flattering letter of introduction, or most prepossessing expression of countenance. An elegant _noeud Gordien_ has been known to secure for its possessor 5,000 L. a-year, and a handsome woman into the bargain. Let it not be viewed as a light or trifling matter; a cravat, _comme il faut_, is synonymous with happiness, and they who know the difference between neck and nothing, will at once perceive that the “march of intellect” means little more than a due appreciation of the value of the cravat, and as near an approach as possible to perfection, in the art of tying it. [EDINBURGH LITERARY JOURNAL.] [Illustration: 322] THE MYSTERIOUS VISITOR. “In the year 1704, a gentleman, to all appearance, of large fortune, took furnished lodgings in a house in Soho Square. After he had resided there some weeks with his establishment, he lost his brother, who had lived at Hampstead, and who, on his death-bed, particularly desired to be interred in the family-vault at Westminster Abbey. The gentleman requested his landlord to permit him to bring the corpse of his brother to his lodgings, and to make arrangements there for the funeral. The landlord, without hesitation, signified his compliance.