Mr. Kinsley’s Book.

While it is universally conceded that Chicago is rapidly achieving world-wide reputation as the great literary centre of the United States, it is distressing to note that local critics are slow to recognize and to encourage the efforts of Chicago littérateurs. We have been plunged into a most unhappy condition of mind by the continued neglect with which a recent literary work of our esteemed fellow-townsman, Mr. H. M. Kinsley, has been treated by the moulders of literary thought in Chicago. We do not know whether it is envy that lurks in the bosom of our literary critics, and instigates them to ignore home industries, but we do know that for the last three months “The Dial,” “Scandinavia,” “The Current,” and other hypercritical reviews, have devoted much space to literature in Norway, France, Italy, Belgium, England, and Prussia, but have had never a word to say of Mr. Kinsley’s valuable treatise. We mention this plain truth more in sorrow than in anger.

2Mr. Kinsley’s book, which now lies before us, treats of topics of the greatest social importance. The introductory pages give a careful description of Mr. Kinsley’s palatial refectory; and following these are several chapters upon the prices of viands, upon the lofty dignity of which (the prices) Mr. Kinsley’s claims to literary recognition would appear to be based. We learn that we can obtain a quart of Nesselrode pudding with Maraschino sauce for one dollar and a quarter, a quart of tutti-frutti ice for one dollar, a dozen pommes de terre fraises for three dollars, sauterne frappe for two dollars and a half per gallon, chicken à la Rheine soup for one dollar per quart, à la Marengo sauce for two dollars per quart, fricadelle de foie gras for seventy-five cents per pound, etc. This important, not to say necessary, information is supplemented with a large number of recipes, which should prove of vast value to the humbler classes in this city. These recipes give careful instruction as to the compounding of mushroom salads, terrapin croquettes, bisque of whitebait tongues, fricassee of canary-birds’ livers, and other viands common to the groaning board of the metropolitan day-laborer. These recipes are stated in that idiomatic, direct English which instantly conveys intelligence to the mind of the reader, and joy ineffable to the soul of the printer at forty cents per one thousand ems. So much for what we may term the sordid, worldly, practical part of the book. 3On the succeeding pages the versatile author proceeds to treat of weddings, parties, receptions, etc., and we note with pleasure that the importance of elaborate and costly refreshments is urged in each instance. But it is in his chapter on “Etiquette of the Table,” that—if we may be allowed to use the figure—Mr. Kinsley out-Kinsleys Kinsley. Perchance it was this chapter that gave our contemporary, “The Dial,” and other critical reviews, pause. Howbeit, we shall venture to regale our readers with a very few specimen excerpts,—

“Fashions change in modes of eating.”

“Never appear impatient, and employ the time in agreeable conversation.”

“Soup should be eaten carefully.”

“Never eat with a knife.”

“Never rise until the meal is finished.”

“Sit upright, with grace and dignity.”

“A fork should be used gracefully.”

“Do not pick the teeth with the cutlery.”

“Do not break the china or glassware unless you expect to pay double price for it.”

These are a few of the pleasant and admirable fundamental laws which author Kinsley lays down for the guidance of his patrons, presumably the élite, the crême de la crême, of Chicago. And, possibly with economic ends in view, Mr. Kinsley warns his readers, “Never eat so much of any article as to attract attention.”

So we say we like the book; and, having perused 4it carefully, we feel warranted in declaring that it appears to us that none could quit Mr. Kinsley’s soothing influences without exclaiming, in the historic language once employed by Ali Baba, “Allah be praised for this deliverance!”