It has long been the custom for advertisers in the continental
journals to typify their wares. The George Robinses of Brussels, for
instance, embody their account of some exquisite villa in a charming
perspective of the same, or of a capital town mansion in a grim
likeness; while the _carossiers_, who have town chariots or family
coaches to dispose of, make it known in the most designing manner. The
consequence is, that the columns of certain foreign papers bear a
striking likeness to a child's alphabet, such as "A was an archer, and
shot at a frog." Among ourselves, this practice is at present only
partially adopted. We are all familiar with the shape of Mr Cox
Savory's tea-pots, and Messrs Dondney's _point-device_ men in buckram;
while Mordan acquaints us, with much point, how many varieties he has
invented of pencil-cases and toothpicks. As to the London Wine
Company, the new art has long imprinted upon our minds a mysterious
notion of a series of vaults in the style of the Thames tunnel,
frequented by figures armed with spigots and dark lanterns, that
remind us of Guy Fawkes, and make us tremble for ourselves and Father
Mathew! Loose notions of the stay-making trade have been circulated by
the same medium; and we have noticed wood-blocks of wig-blocks,
deservedly immortalizing the pernquier.

But consider what it will be when the system is adopted on a more
comprehensive scale. The daily papers will present a series of
designs, remarkable as those of the Glyptothek and Pinacothek at
Munich; and in all probability, the artists of the prize cartoons will
be engaged in behalf of the leading journals of Europe. Who cannot
foresee her Majesty's drawing-room illustrated by Parris! Who cannot
conceive the invasion of Britain outdone in an allegorical leading
article: "Louis Philippe (in a Snooks-like attitude) inviting Queen
Victoria to St Cloud; and the British lion lashing out its tail at the