does not always achieve. Miss Anne Leslie, a younger sister of Miss Eliza, has succeeded, as an artist, beyond what females usually do; she has copied her brother's pictures with such truth and spirit, that her work is often mistaken for the original.

After the return of Mr. Leslie, Senior, to Philadelphia, he engaged in business; yet, being fond of books, he devoted much of his time, while abroad and when in his own land, to mathematics and natural philosophy. These pursuits brought him, before he went abroad, into intimacy with Franklin, Jefferson, Rittenhouse, and other philosophers of the day; and his reminiscences of these distinguished men had, doubtless, an abiding influence on the mind of his young and gifted daughter, the bent of whose genius has always been towards the useful and practical.

Miss Leslie's first book, "Seventy-Five Receipts," a little manual to assist ladies in their housekeeping, owed its appearance to this desire of being useful. She had had the benefit of an institution, peculiar to Philadelphia, which may be termed "A Cooking School for Young Ladies," where practical instruction was given in the mysteries of making cakes, pastry, preserves, &c. At this school, under the care of Mrs. Goodfellow, (no relation of Robin,) who acquired a great reputation in her way, Miss Leslie not only graduated among the highest, but she had the good sense to secure her acquirements by taking notes. She soon found herself the authority to whom appeal was made, on any special occasion, for this scientific skill in cookery. She grew tired of writing out receipts for her "five hundred friends," and, yielding to the counsels of her brother, prepared the book for publication, about the year 1829. Its success was so signal, that the publisher proposed to Miss Leslie the writing of a work for children. With much persuasion, she was prevailed on to undertake this, and produced several books for juvenile readers, which were very popular and useful. The Mirror" was the first of the series; then followed "The Young American," "Atlantic Tales," "Stories for Emma," and "The American Girl's Book," published in 1832. Prior to this, Miss Leslie commenced writing for Godey's Lady's Book, and her contributions were continued, with but slight intermissions, till 1850. She also contributed to other periodicals, and has been editor of monthlies and annuals. Her various papers have been, in part, collected and published, with the title of "Pencil Sketches, or Outlines of Character and Manners." The first volume was published in 1833, and contained "Mrs. Washington Potts," a prize tale, which has been very much praised. The second volume was published in 1835, and the third in 1837. During these years, she prepared a large work on "Cookery," which has met with great favour; also, "The House Book," a useful manual for young housekeepers; and the "Ladies' New Receipt Book."

In 1841, "Althea Vernon" appeared; and in 1848, was published her longest and most finished fictitious narrative, "Amelia; or a Young Lady's Vicissitudes," in one volume. Miss Leslie has

quick observation, a retentive memory, a sprightly fancy, and a persevering mind; she has also the great merit of being free from affectation; her purpose is always to be useful, to correct faults, expose follies, and wage war with what is perverse and contemptible. If, in doing this, she sometimes seems severe on what are called trifles, it should be borne in mind, that from these little faults grave misfortunes not unfrequently have their origin; and Miss Leslie is such a truehearted American, that she earnestly desires to aid her countrywomen in becoming perfect. Few of our female writers have wielded so powerful an influence, or been more widely read. Her "Sketches and Stories," scattered through periodicals, are soon to be issued in a convenient form for popular circulation. Miss Leslie is now engaged in preparing "The Behaviour Book;" and the "Life of John Fitch," the first experimenter in steam navigation. For this, she has abundant materials, as that unfortunate man of science was an intimate friend of her father's, who took a deep interest in his projects, afterwards realized by Fulton.

From "Kitty's Relations."

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

Albert Colesbury, of Philadelphia, fell in love with Catherine Branchley, of New York, at a quarter past ten o'clock, while dancing opposite to her on the evening of his arrival at Ballston Springs; there being a ball at the Sans Souci Hotel. Perhaps the precise moment selected by Cupid for directing his shaft towards the heart of our hero, was that in which the young lady acknowledged, with a graceful bow, and a smile of unaffected sweetness, his civility in presenting to her a sprig of jessamine that had fallen from her hair. Shortly after, another sprig of jessamine happened to fall; and this time, Colesbury was so dishonest as not to return it, but took an opportunity of slipping it within his vest.

When the set was over, he hastened to procure an introduction to Miss Branchley, by means of a young New Yorker, whom he knew, and who had just been dancing with her. Our hero would have gladly engaged her for the next set, but her hand was already promised to another gentleman; however, she smilingly consented to give it to Colesbury for the set following. Having no inclination to dance with any one else, he took his seat beside Mrs. Seabright, a young widow, whom he had frequently met with at places of public resort, where she generally did him the favour to matronize him. Colesbury, unable to think of anything else, broke forth into warm encomiums on the beauty of Miss Branchley, and even manifested his intention of endeavouring to engage her for every succeeding

set.

To do him justice, she really was pretty. Mrs. Seabright judiciously cautioned the impetuous inamorato against all violent measures, as they would certainly have a tendency to excite false hopes in the heart of a poor simple girl, who had evidently just come out, and was of course inexperienced in both balls and beaux.

"Oh!" replied Mrs. Seabright, who considered herself a wit, "the heart of the young lady may be tender, while that of the gentleman is only tinder."

"She is the most exquisite creature I ever saw in my life," returned our hero-"and the hope should be on my side rather than on hers. I am not a man to be taken by mere external beautybut look at the faultless symmetry of her figure!

""Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
The tincture of a skin that I admire;"

"That was to give you an opportunity of satisfying your curiosity. But they did you a great deal of harm."

"When and how?" persisted the boy. "How were we the worse for them, and what harm did they do us? Tell me that. You can't say we were one moment sick-any of us."

His mother endeavoured to silence him; but his father tried to laugh, and said—

"Mrs. B., you'd better let young hopeful alone. You'll find him too hard for you."

66 'He's worse than ever since he came to America," murmured Mrs. Bloxham.

"A clever lad, sir," continued Bloxham, turn

"All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest." What pearly teeth she has; so even, and so perfect! And then the turn of her head! Still I have no wish to possess a beautiful casket, unless it holds a gem within. But if, upon further acquaintance with Miss Branchley, I find her mind equal to her person, I shall esteem myself the happiest of men, if she will allow me to hope for her favour, and I will then lose no time in endeavouring to secure her as the partner of my life." “Love at first sight is certainly a most amusing thing," remarked Mrs. Seabright, "at least to the by-standers."

"I am not in love," replied Colesbury, in a calmer tone-"not in the least in love. I must first be convinced of the mental qualities of the lady."

To be brief-the next was a country dance, and before it was over, Colesbury had ascertained that Miss Branchley's mind was equal to her person, and his resolution was taken to declare himself as soon as propriety would allow. This term of probation did not prove very tedious, for the important avowal was made the very next morning on their way back from the spring to the house; the fair Kitty having looked divinely while taking the glass from the hand of her admirer, and holding it to her beautiful lips. The suddenness of the proposal somewhat startled the young lady, but she neither withdrew her arm, nor ran away; she only held down her head and smiled-she had not known him long enough to blush. And when he eagerly inquired if he might be permitted to hope, she said, "he might ask her pa."

From "The Bloxhams and Mayfields."

THE ENGLISH RADICAL AND THE AMERICAN

CITIZEN.

The dinner was profuse and excellent-the first the Bloxhams had eaten at a private house since their arrival. Mrs. Bloxham, however, carefully abstained from tasting of any article peculiarly American, and she also endeavoured to prevent her children from doing so-telling them these strange things might disagree with them.

"Why, ma," said Horne Tooke, "you let us eat all sorts of strange things at the Spread Eagle."

easily perceive. He'll make a figure in the world yet. You'll have him legislating for you in your House of Congress before fifteen years, and helping to guide, with tongue of fire, the restless rudder of your government."

"Tell me why," persisted Horne Tooke, still addressing his mother-"tell me why we were allowed to eat squashes, and sweet potatoes, and pot-pie, and pumpkin-pudding, and everything on the table, when we were at the Spread Eagle."

"Horne Tooke, my boy," said Mr. Bloxham, "you are certainly sharp enough to understand that when we are at an inn, and a public table, where we pay all the same eat or no eat, it is advisable to indulge ourselves with everything that is to be had; so as to be quite sure of getting the worth of our money. You know we did the same

on board of ship. Now some of the passengers were always complaining of the length of the voyage; but I always laughed, and said I did not care if it lasted two months, as long as we were on the captain's keep. Ha, ha, ha- that's me exactly-there's nothing like having the full worth of one's money."

"But here in this house we pay no money at all," said Horne Tooke, "and that is better still. Ma, I know very well what you are at. You want us to hate everything in America; and so you're afraid to let us eat any more of their nice victuals."

"The child does not know what he's talking about," said Mrs. Bloxham.

"Yes I do," said Horne Tooke; "pa says I always have my wits about me. I know I am the brightest of the family-the only bright one, too."

"Mr. B.," said his wife, "I told you it would be so. There's something in the air of this country that is not fit for English children. It makes them rude, and saucy, and unbiddable, from the moment they set their feet on the land of liberty, as you call it."

Why, I was just as bad at home," said Horne Tooke, "and I dare say a great deal worse; for I had not half such good times."

Dinner was at length over; and as they adjourned to the front parlour, Bloxham whispered to his wife, "This squire is a capital fellow —I never sat down to a better feed."

"Be quiet," said Mrs. Bloxham, "some of the family may hear you."

In the cool of the afternoon, Mr. Mayfield

showed his guests round the farm; and the Bloxham children were made free of the two peach orchards; having previously made themselves so in the forenoon. Bloxham seemed to look about, but in reality saw nothing; for his whole attention was engrossed by hearing himself relate paltry and scandalous anecdotes of the king and queen, with laudatory digressions on Fox, Sheridan, and the Duke of Bedford; talking of all these distinguished men as familiarly as "maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs." He even hinted, that through his intimacy with Sheridan he was no stranger to the Prince of Wales, whom he praised without measure, as a noble, generous fellow, that was always in debt, and whose feelings went entirely with the people; the said people being all bursting with impatience for the time to arrive when he should begin to reign over them.

"You know, of course," continued Bloxham, "that the prince is in the opposition. The heir apparent always is. I can assure you, sir, (and I have had private opportunities of knowing,) his royal highness (heaven bless him) is a republican at heart; a thorough democrat."

"That is strange," observed Mr. Mayfield; "it is certainly not his business to be so."

"Then the greater the patriotism," pursued Bloxham To see how his royal highness goes to the balls of untitled persons; and how agreeable he makes himself to ladies that are plain Miss and Mrs.; even asking them to dance. Yes, yes; he carries in his heart's core the hammer that is to strike off the grinding chains of kingridden England."

In the mean time, Mrs. Bloxham was walking with Mrs. Mayfield, and entertaining her with accounts of the vast superiority of everything in England to everything in America. As an episode, she introduced a minute description of the Lord Mayor's show, a spectacle which her son, Horne Tooke, (who followed close behind,) averred was nothing in comparison to Bartlemy fair, and not half so productive of fun as Guy Faux day.

The tea-table went on much in the same manner as the dinner-table; except that the children followed the example of Horne Tooke, and helped themselves voraciously to cakes, honey, and sweetmeats; their mother no longer essaying to check them.

From "Leonilla Lynmore."

THE FORTUNE-TELLER.

RUTH RAMBO was a large, tall woman, habited in a dingy brown worsted petticoat, and a blue calico long short-gown, in form something like the dresses that, when worn by genteel people, are called tunics. Her grey hair was partially covered by a cross-barred muslin cap, bordered with coarse Dutch lace, similar to that which ladies, who know no better, now dignify with the name of Brussels and Valenciennes. She had very cunning dark eyes, and, though grossly ignorant, possessed considerable shrewdness, combined with the most unblushing assurance.

After taking her seat behind a little old table, and surveying the young ladies from head to foot,

she fixed her eyes upon their faces in such a manner, that each imagined the gaze to be directed exclusively to herself, and quailed beneath what they considered its almost supernatural influence. There was a silence, which was at last broken by the weird-woman pronouncing, in a tone of awful solemnity, the monosyllable- Well." Merial's courage failed; and she made a sign to the timid Leonilla, who found it necessary to be spokeswoman. "We have come"- said she"to consult you on the subject of your art-the art which you profess. We have come to hear what are likely to be the chief events of our future lives in short, to have our fortunes told."

"Ay-now you've got it right" said the old woman"I knew, by my art, what your errand was, as soon as I saw you. So now let us proceed to business, for I have no time to lose, and there be them that are waiting for me; but the last shall be first, and the first shall be last. Take off your bonnets, and give to the world all the features of your visards and visages.”

They did so; and the sibyl, contracting her brows mysteriously, and looking from the one to the other, slowly uttered-"Fate bids me begin with the least of you"-pointing her finger at Leonilla.

Ruth Rambo then drew from her pocket a marvellous dirty pack of cards, and said, sternly, to our heroine-"How old are you? Woe betide you, if you do not tell me the naked truth."

"I am just sixteen and three months"-replied Leonilla. "I can have no reason for misrepresenting my age."

"Not yet, may be"-replied the fortune-teller -"but perhaps you may have, when years have gone by, and the stars begin to run round upon their poles. Women that's got beyant twenty, often try to cheat me; but I am an old fox, and can always find them out by my art. Now I see plain enough you're a foreigner." "Oh! no, indeed, I am not"- exclaimed Lecnilla, earnestly.

"There is no cheating me"-said the old woman. with increased solemnity.-"I have set before all the nations of the earth, and I know a foreigner when I see one."

This (after reflecting a moment) the young ladies understood to mean, that Ruth Rambo had told fortunes to strangers from every part of the world.

"I was born in Philadelphia"- said Leonilla"and have never, in my life, been out of America." "Well-and what's Philadelphia but foreign parts; foreign to Boston, is not it?"

She then, after shuffling the cards, produced the four queens from the pack, and desired Leonilla to choose one. She chose the queen of diamonds.

"That stands for yourself" said the fortuneteller. She then went through the tedious process of shuffling the cards nine times over, always desiring Leonilla to cut them; the old woman each time looking at the bottom card. When all the shuffling and cutting was accomplished, the sibyl raised her eyes to the black circle on the ceiling, as if invoking its aid, paused a moment, and then, with practised dexterity, ran rapidly

over the whole pack of cards as she held them, with her hands resting on the table.

"That's you" said she to Leonilla, displaying the queen of diamonds.-"Every card in the pack has its meaning, in all the four corners of the globe, and persons of art can read them as easy as they can read a buk."

"Is it by the vicinity of certain other cards to the queen of diamonds, that you propose to discover what is to happen to me?"-asked Leonilla. "That's tellings"-replied the old woman."Do you suppose I am going to let people into the secret of my arts and sciences? Some goes by coffee-grounds, which is low and vulgar; and some goes by the lines on the parms of your hands, which is nothing but plexity and puzzledem; and some goes by the stars and planipos, which is too far off to be certain. But cards is the only true things, as all the best judges can scratify. Besides, who can tell but I have awful powers, holden from them that is seldom seen, but always about, and may be looking at us now."

LEWALD, FANNY,

Is a woman of letters belonging to Berlin. By no means a speculative recluse, she maintains a very marked position in society, cultivating the acquaintance and intimacy of all the celebrities of the day, to whom she is rendered interesting, not only by her reputation as an authoress, but by her conversational powers. She has travelled through various parts of the continent of Europe, with an eye open to every striking object, and a mind filled with enthusiasm for every personage of note; let it be added, with a pen ready to stamp her impressions.

Fraulien Lewald, as she is called in Germany, began her literary career as a novel-writer; her first two works were " Clementine," and "Jenny;" neither of which made much impression on the public. She then brought out "Diogena," her third novel, anonymously; it was clever and satirical, and created a sensation altogether unprecedented in Germany in that department of literature. Describing this success, which seems to have been as complete as was that of "Jane Eyre" in England and America, the Editor of the Foreign Quarterly observes: This was the more remarkable, as the book made its appearance during a time when political events were of absorbing interest, and especially when the debates of the first Prussian Parliament left the reading public of Berlin little time or attention to bestow on romances. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, the success of " Diogena" was complete, and much ingenuity was exercised in endeavouring to penetrate into the mystery of the authorship. Almost every distinguished name which could possibly be brought into connexion with a subject of this kind, was successively mentioned as undoubtedly the true one, by some critic or other, though it happened, unluckily, that no two were agreed. On one point, however, our German brethren of the craft were nearly unanimous. Whoever it might be, it could not be a woman,that point was soon settled. Such firm and vigo

rous drawing, such keen satire, such strict logical sequence in carrying out the principles of the noble romance,' could by no possibility characterize the productions of a writer of the less worthy gender. These gentlemen are, as all who are familiar with German periodical literature will know, especially clever at pointing out, on all occasions, precisely what is, and what is not attainable to genius, which happens to wear in the flesh the mortal garb of a woman, in declaring its precise limits, and pronouncing their authoritative thus far shalt thou go, and no farther.'"

However, the secret was at last disclosed, and Fanny Lewald became celebrated as the author of "Diogena." Her next work was 66 Italienisches Bilderbuch," (Italian Picture-Book,) published at Berlin in 1847, and soon afterwards reprinted in London. In this work she very judiciously eschews pictures and churches, the usual staple of a traveller's note-book, but tells as much as possible of the country and the people—" of their joys and sorrows, their eating and drinking, their play and their work;" which she has done as far as was possible for a woman and a stranger to become acquainted with them. She was in Rome toward the close of the pontificate of Gregory XVI.: we shall give her opinions of Italy at that period.

She next visited France, and passed there the exciting winter of the Revolution. The result of her observations she gave to the world in a volume, published in 1850, where we see appearing, to use the artist's own idea, as in a "camera obscura," a most wonderful variety of men and women. They pass through her pages with the same unconnectedness as objects do in the aforesaid optical toy; yet the praise cannot be withheld, that they have the natural air, the masterly outline, and the true properties, so pleasing in the pictures of the camera; to demand from Miss Lewald delineations of equal faithfulness and impartiality, would be asking too much; "mechanical powers" only could reach such result. She certainly merits the approbation of the sober-minded, that being in Paris during the topsy-turvy of 1848, she was not infected with the mania of socialism, or any of the extravagances of reform, though appreciating true progress in civil and religious freedom. Besides the works enumerated, she published, in 1849, a novel called "Prince Louis Ferdinand," which has been much commended in the first journals of Europe.

From "Italienisches Bilderbuch."

SOCIAL INTERCOURSE IN ITALY IN 1846. The best kind of social intercourse, that by which the spiritual life is excited to a higher activity, is only possible in free countries. Everywhere, in Russia as well as in Germany or Italy, people can dine, and dance, and drink, and smoke, and play at cards, and flatter the women.

But these pleasures are not very lasting; they form no bond of union between individuals, and there is no real interest in them for any one who requires something more of his time than that it shall go as fast as possible. The better spirits among us have passed beyond the childish state of

mind that could be content with these things, and desire, even in their recreations, a certain earnestness, to which, however, no playful grace or gaiety need be wanting.

The Italians have inherited from past ages the most pleasing and graceful forms of behaviour; they are children of noble birth, well-bred, and accustomed to elegant manners. Had they more of intellectual culture, they would be in a position to develop the highest attractions of social intercourse. But in Italy, the mind, and with it the life of society, has been laid in fetters; and there is, consequently, a something in the manners of the Italian circles that reminds one of their stately but unoccupied palaces, whose dust-covered pictures and furniture, rich as they are, have a mournful and decayed aspect.

In France, the various parties, political, religious, and literary, are brought together by the desire to discuss freely the questions that arise; for a single word spoken will often put an end to a misunderstanding better than whole pamphlets full of controversy; and the variety of opinion that always manifests itself in conversation, opens fresh springs of interest and progress. In Italy, however, such an intellectual movement has been hitherto impossible. It does not want for men, who, with watchful eye and hopeful soul, follow the movements that take place in other countries, and fervently desire them for their own; but they are denied the freedom not only of action, but of word. All society is watched, and this vigilance extends even to foreigners. I have heard it positively asserted that the entertainments of an Italian lady of good family, who receives a great number of strangers, are paid for by the papal court, and that the lady herself is in its service as a spy. A very clever Abate of my acquaintance pointed out to me a certain chevalier, decorated with the highest papal order, who filled the same office; and afterwards, a German friend, long settled in Rome, warned me, for a similar reason, against the Abate himself. Whether any one of the parties really deserved the accusation, is what I had no means of ascertaining; but the mere possibility of being watched by spies, is enough to drive people out of society; and there can be no difficulty in finding spies in a country where every free thought on religion is a heresy, and the betrayal of a heresy is regarded as a service to God.

CONVERSATION IN ROME.

In Italian circles, I have found the conversation very superficial, consisting much of playful and not ungraceful trifling on subjects of traditional gallantry, (from which, by-the-bye, the clergy is by no means excluded,) and of the topics of the day, treated much in the style of a court journal. The comings and goings of illustrious personages, the changes in the genealogical calendar, accidents by flood and fire; theatres, singers, and, though last not least, the ballet; these are the points round which conversation perpetually revolves. Now and then one sees a group whispering toge

ther on matters of greater importance, and from such a one, there can occasionally be gleaned intelligence not to be found in books or papers, that have to pass under the eye of the censor. I was told, however, that all prohibited books were always to be found with the cardinals, and that they are read a great deal underhand.

It is in some measure the deficiency of material for interesting conversation that, in Rome, compels people to have recourse to poetry and music to fill up tedious intervals, which occur more frequently from its being the custom in many Italian houses to bring no kind of refreshments, no ice, no supper, not so much as water, to the guests.

The middle classes of the Italians, the official persons, and the lower order of the nobility, live in their own circles, and see little of strangers of a similar class. The intercourse amongst the aristocracy of the various nations is more lively, but still seldom passes beyond an invitation to a ball, a box at the opera, or a drive on the Corso. The interior of the domestic circle still remains closed to strangers, and, consequently, a real intimacy of mind with mind scarcely ever takes place; while in general society, all the profounder interests, social, political, or religious, -are of course intentionally avoided, as likely to lead to forbidden ground.

LOTTERY TABLES.

At night the tables are illuminated, and these lottery-offices remain open till a late hour of the night, when all others have long been closed. Since as little as a penny may be put in, the very poorest have it in their power to venture the hard earnings of the day, in the delusive hope of a vast return. The plan is to draw five numbers out of ninety: the player takes three, and should these three be found amongst the five drawn, he wins the great prize; should there be two, he wins twelve hundred scudi; but one is of no use. The lottery tables are kept open to tempt the people on Sundays and Saints' Days.

"SMORFIA," A DREAM-BOOK ABOUT LOTTERIES. I could not contain my indignation against the Italian government as I read this book! It is not enough that, from their accursed avarice, they plunder the subjects whom they call their children, and plunge them into the ruin from which it should be their care to preserve them; not enough that, by their rigid censorships, they shut out as far as possible every ray of mental illumination; they must bestow privileges, forsooth, upon books whose only purpose is to promote the more systematic carrying out of this system of plunder, and thicken the darkness of superstition in which the people are enveloped.

Almost every article of merchandize passing between the Italian States is subjected to duty, as if they were foreign countries. The governments remain separate, when the question is of the welfare of the people; but to do them injury, the