One personage, a Mr. Porgy, we have not mentioned in his proper place among the _dramatis personæ_, because we think he deserves a separate paragraph of animadversion. This man is a most insufferable bore; and had we, by accident, opened the book when about to read it for the first time, at any one of his manifold absurdities, we should most probably have thrown aside "The Partisan" in disgust. Porgy is a backwoods imitation of Sir Somebody Guloseton, the epicure, in one of the Pelham novels. He is a very silly compound of gluttony, slang, belly, and balderdash philosophy, never opening his mouth for a single minute at a time, without making us feel miserable all over. The rude and unqualified oaths with which he seasons his language deserve to be seriously reprehended. There is positively neither wit nor humor in an oath of any kind--but the oaths of this Porgy are abominable. Let us see how one or two of them will look in our columns. Page 174, vol. ii--"Then there was no tricking a fellow--persuading him to put his head into a rope without showing him first how d----d strong it was." Page 169, vol. ii--"Tom, old boy, why d----n it, that fellow's bloodied your nose." Page 167, vol. ii--"I am a pacific man, and my temper is not ungentle; but to disturb my slumbers which are so necessary to the digestive organs--stop, I say--d----n!--don't pull so!" Page 164, vol. ii--"Well, Tom, considering how d----d bad those perch were fried, I must confess I enjoyed them." Page 164, vol. ii--"Such spice is a d----d bad dish for us when lacking cayenne." Page 163, vol. ii--"Dr. Oakenburg, your d----d hatchet hip is digging into my side." Page 162, vol. ii--"The summer duck, with its glorious plumage, skims along the same muddy lake, on the edge of which the d----d bodiless crane screams and crouches." In all these handsome passages Porgy loquitur, and it will be perceived that they are all to be found within a few pages of each other--such attempts to render profanity less despicable by rendering it amusing, should be frowned down indignantly by the public. Of Porgy's philosophy we subjoin a specimen from page 89, vol. ii. "A dinner once lost is never recovered. The stomach loses a day, and regrets are not only idle to recall it, but subtract largely from the appetite the day ensuing. _Tears can only fall from a member that lacks teeth; the mouth now is never seen weeping. It is the eye only; and, as it lacks tongue, teeth, and taste alike, by Jupiter, it seems to me that tears should be its proper business._" How Mr. Simms should ever have fallen into the error of imagining such horrible nonsense as that in Italics, to be either witty or wise, is to us a mystery of mysteries. Yet Porgy is evidently a favorite with the author.