in offering a gratuity to a well or ill-dressed attendant in travelling. Shabbiness favours our penuriousness, most remarkably! The eye scans the expectant instinctively, and instead of the generous impulse to give most liberally to those who need, we graduate our donation by the probable expectation of one who has evidently not found the world very generous. If the servant be well enough dressed to bespeak independence, and especially if he be gifted with the modest assurance which is often both cause and consequence of good fortune, pride whispers us at once not to disgust so genteel a person by a shabby gift, and we bestow on success what we should grudge to necessity DRESS OF LADIES. Women generally have an intense dislike to the picturesque style in female dress, and they are not at all apt to think favourably of the stray sheep who adopt it. Some "ill-advis'd" persons fancy that ladies dress for the eyes of gentlemen, but this opinion shows little knowledge of the sex. Gentlemen dress for ladies, but ladies for each other. The anxiety that is felt about the peculiarities of fashion, the chase after novelty, the thirst for expense, all refer to women's judgment and admiration, for of these particulars men know nothing. Here we touch upon the point in question. Women who depart from fashion in search of the picturesque are suspected of a special desire to be charming to the other sex, a fault naturally unpardonable, for ought we not all to start fair? Has any individual a right to be weaving private nets, and using unauthorized charms? A lady who values her character, had better not pretend to be independent of the fashion. The extra admiration of a few of her more poetical beaux will not compensate for the angry sarcasms she must expect from her own sex. This is a matter in which we find it hard to be merciful, or even candid. Shall the becoming, then, be sacrificed to the caprices of fashion, which consults neither complexion, shape, nor air, but considers the female sex only as a sort of dough, which is to be moulded at pleasure, and squeezed into all possible forms, at the waving of a wand? We do not go so far. There are rules of taste, -standards of grace and beauty, boundaries of modesty and propriety, restraints of Christian benevolence. Saving and excepting the claims of these, we say follow the fashion enough to avoid singularity, and do not set up to be an inventor in costume. L. LEE, HANNAH F., Is now a resident of Boston, Massachusetts, of which state she is a native. Her birth-place was Newburyport, where her father was an eminent physician. Mrs. Lee has for many years been a widow, and so situated as not to be influenced by pecuniary motives in devoting a part of her time to literature. She wrote from a full heart, sympathizing with those who suffered from lack of knowledge respecting the causes of their troubles. Her "Three Experiments of Living," published about 1838, was written during a season of commercial distress, when every one was complaining of hard times." She embodied in this tale the thoughts suggested by scenes around her, without any idea of publication. The friends who read her manuscript insisted on its being printed, and one of them, the late John Pickering, Esq., well known in the literary and scientific world, gave the manuscript to the printer, and saw to its execution. The unparalleled success of this work justified his opinion. Edition after edition was called for, (about thirty have been issued in America,) and we may say, that in no country has a work, teaching the morals of domestic life, met with such success. It circulated widely from the English press, and was advertised in large letters in the bookstores at Dresden. The name of the author was for a long time unknown, as Mrs. Lee had never prefixed it to any publication. Her suc Her next work was the "Old Painters," written with the earnest desire of benefiting youth by mingling instruction with amusement. ceeding works, "Luther and his Times," "Cranmer and his Times," and the "Huguenots in France and America," were written from the same motive. Mrs. Lee's first publication was entitled "Grace Seymour," a novel. Nearly the whole edition of this work was burnt in the great fire at New York, before many of the volumes had been bound and issued. She has never reprinted it, though some of her friends think it one of her best writings. Another little book, "Rosanna, or Scenes in Boston," was written by particular desire, to increase the funds of a charity school. As her name has not been prefixed to any of her books, it is impossible to enumerate all which have proceeded from her pen; we may, however, mention a volume of tales, and also several small tracts. One of these, "Rich Enough," was written to illustrate the insane desire of accumulating wealth which at that time prevailed. The "Contrast, or Different Modes of Education," "The World before You, or the Log-Cabin," are titles of two of her other little books. In 1849, she published a small volume of "Stories from Life for the Young." Her first known publication was the appendix to Miss Hannah Adams' memoir of herself, edited by Dr. Joseph Tuckerman. Nearly all Mrs. Lee's works have been republished in England. In contrasting the genius of the sexes, we should always estimate the moral effect of mental power: the genius which causes or creates the greates. amount of good to humanity should take the highest rank. The Hon. John Pickering, to whom allusion is made as the friend of Mrs. Lee, was a profound scholar, an eminent lawyer, a philologist of high attainments; and yet, probably, the greatest benefit his talents conferred on his country, was his aid and encouragement in developing the talents of Mrs. Lee. Her moral influence has had a power for good over domestic life, and on the formation of character, which incalculably outweighs all speculative philosophies. Great reverence is due to the memory of Mr. Pickering for his high estimation of woman's moral power. From Three Experiments of Living." BEGINNING LIFE. Most young physicians begin life with some degree of patronage, but Frank Fulton had none; he came to the city a stranger, from the wilds of Vermont, fell in love with Jane Churchwood, uncle Joshua's niece,-a man whom nobody knew, and whose independence consisted in limiting his wants to his means. What little he could do for Jane, he cheerfully did. But after all necessary expenses were paid, the young people had but just enough between them to secure their first quarter's board, and place a sign on the corner of the house, by special permission, with Doctor Fulton handsomely inscribed upon it. The sign seemed to excite but little attention, -as nobody called to see the owner of it, though he was at home every hour in the day. After a week of patient expectation, which could not be said to pass heavily, - for they worked, read and talked together,-Frank thought it best to add to the sign, Practises for the poor gratis. At the end of a few days another clause was added, Furnishes medicines to those who cannot afford to pay for them. In a very short time, the passers by stopped to spell out the words, and Frank soon began to reap the benefit of this addition. Various applications were made, and though they did not as yet promise any increase of revenue, he was willing to pay for the first stepping-stone. What had begun, however, from true New England calculation, was continued from benevolence. He was introduced to scenes of misery, that made him forget all but the desire of relieving the wretchedness he witnessed; and when he related to his young and tender-hearted wife, the situation in which he found a mother confined to her bed, with two or three helpless children crying around her for bread, Jane would put on her straw bonnet, and follow him with a light step to the dreary abode. The first quarter's board came round; it was paid, and left them nearly penniless. There is something in benevolent purpose, as well as in industry, that cheers and supports the mind. Never was Jane's step lighter, nor her smile gayer, than at present. But this could not last; the next quarter's board must be provided, and how? Still the work of mercy went on, and did not grow slack. THE REWARD. It would be pleasant to dwell longer on this period of Dr. Fulton's life. It was one of honest independence. Their pleasures were home pleasures, -the purest and the most satisfactory that this world affords. We cannot but admit that they might have been elevated and increased by deeper and more fervent principle. Nature had been bountiful in giving them kind and gentle dispositions, and generous emotions; but the bark, with its swelling sails and gay streamers, that moves so gallantly over the rippling waters, struggles feebly against the rushing wind and foaming wave. Prosperous as Frank might be considered, he had attained no success beyond what every industrious, capable young man may obtain, who, from his first setting out in life, scrupulously limits his expenses within his means. This is, in fact, to be his text-book and his ægis. Not what others do, not what seems necessary and fitting to his station in life, but what he, who knows his own affairs, can decide is in reality fitting. Shall we, who so much prize our independence, give up what, in a political view alone, is dross, compared to independence of character and habits? Shall we, who can call master spirits from every portion of our land, to attest to the hard-earned victory of freedom and independence, give up the glorious prize, and suffer our minds to be subjugated by foreign luxuries and habits? Yet it is even so; they are fast invading our land; they have already taken possession of our sea-ports, and are hastening towards the interior. Well may British travellers scoff, when they come amongst us, and see our own native Americans adopting the most frivolous parts of civilized life, - its feathers and gewgaws,- our habits and customs made up of awkward imitations of English and French; our weak attempts at aristocracy; our late hours of visiting, for which no possible reason can be assigned, but that they do so in Europe! Let us rather, with true independence, adopt the good of every nation, their arts and improvements,-their noble and liberal institutions,—their literature, and the grace and real refinemen, ɔf their manners; but let us strive to retain our simplicity, our sense of what is consistent with our own glorious calling, and above all, the honesty and wisdom of living within our income, whatever it may be. This is our true standard. Let those who can afford it, consult their own taste in living. If they prefer elegance of furniture, who has a right to gainsay it? But let us not all aim at the same luxury. Perhaps it is this consciousness of unsuccessful imitation that has given a colour to the charge made against us, by the English, of undue irritability. Truly, there is nothing more likely to produce it. Let us pursue our path with a firm and steadfast purpose, as did our fathers of the Revolution, and we shall little regard those who, after receiving our hospitality, retire to a distance, and pelt us with rubbish. LIVING BEYOND THE MEANS. Jane was not behind Mrs. Bradish, in costume or figure. Every morning, at the hour for calls, she was elegantly attired for visitors. Many came from curiosity. Mrs. Hart congratulated her dear friend, on seeing her moving in a sphere for which it was evident nature intended her. Mrs. Reed cautioned her against any mauvaise honte, that might remind one of former times. Others admired her furniture and arrangements, without any sly allusions. On one of these gala mornings, uncle Joshua was ushered into the room. Jane was fortunately alone, and she went forward and offered two fingers with a cordial air, but whis pered to the servant, "if any one else called while he was there, to say she was engaged." She had scrupulously observed her promise, of never sending word she was not at home. There was a mock kind of deference in his air and manner, that embarrassed Jane. world can give. When I lost you, Jane, I was a poor solitary being. The world, you know, is not much to me, and I was still less to that. For a time, you were still my own Jane; but when your family increased, and-as was very natural-you were occupied by it, then I was thrown quite on "So," said he, looking round him, "we have a myself. And a dreary prospect it was. Then I palace here!" "The house we were in was quite too small, now that our children are growing so large," replied Jane. "They must be greatly beyond the common size," said uncle Joshua, "if that house could not hold them." "It was a very inconvenient one; and we thought, as it was a monstrous rent, it would do better to take another. Then, after we had bought this, it certainly was best to furnish it comfortably, as it was for life." "Is it paid for?" asked uncle Joshua, drily. Jane hesitated. "Paid for? O certainly; that is, yes, sir." "I am glad to hear it; otherwise, I much doubt if it is taken for life." Jane was silent. "Very comfortable," said uncle Joshua; "that is a comfortable glass for your husband to shave by; and those are comfortable curtains, to keep out the sun and cold." Both of these articles were strikingly elegant. "That is a comfortable lamp that hangs in the middle of the room; it almost puts out my eyes with its glass danglers. Times are strangely altered, Jane, since you and I thought such comforts necessary." "Frank has been very successful in his speculations, uncle; he does not now depend on his profession for a living; indeed, he thinks it his duty to live as other people do, and place his wife and children upon an equality with others." "And what do you call an equality, living as Juxuriously, and wasting as much time, as they do? Dwelling in as costly apartments, and forgetting there is any other world than this? When you were left to my care, and your dear mother was gone from us, how often I lamented that I could not supply her place, that I could not better talk to you of another world, to which she had gone; but then, Jane, I comforted myself that I knew something of the duties that belonged to this, and that, if I faithfully instructed you in these, I should be preparing you for another. When I saw you growing up, dutiful and humble, charitable and self-denying, sincere, and a conscientious disciple of truth, then I felt satisfied that all was well. But I begin now to fear that it was a short-sighted kind of instruction, that it had not power enough to enable us to hold fast to what is right. I begin now to see that we must have motives that do not depend on the praise or censure of this world, -motives that must have nothing to do with it." "Frank told me the other day," said Jane, "that he thought you were growing quite religious." "If I am," said uncle Joshua, "it is from the conviction that I want higher motives than this asked myself, if all was to end here? Not but what I believed in another world, but it was just as I believed in England or France: but now, Jane, I have thought it over, till I feel that heaven is a land I am going to, and the Bible my chart to steer by; and I am no longer solitary or alone. Now, my dear Jane, I want you to believe it." "I do, uncle," said Jane, affectionately; "you always taught me that my mother had gone to heaven, and that if I was good, I should go, too." "Ah, but, my dear child, I want you to feel it, -to feel the comfort and blessing of God's presence. It seems to me that when we once realize the glory of heaven, we shall not think much of these earthly palaces. Do not wait till you go to heaven, to realize God's presence, but feel that he is with you always, -teach it to your children,win your husband to the truth." Is a native of Philadelphia, where she has resided the greater portion of her life. Her paternal ancestors were from Scotland; her great-grandfather, Robert Leslie, emigrated to the then colony of Maryland about the year 1745. The father of Miss Leslie removed to Philadelphia before she was born; but he had previously married, in Maryland, the grandaughter of a worthy Swede; and thus Miss Leslie, who has been criticised as an English authoress, "has not," to quote her own. words, "a drop of English blood in her veins." The mistake probably arose from the circumstance that, when she was a child, her father took his family with him to London for a few years, and afterwards to Portugal; and her brother, Charles Leslie, the distinguished artist, settled in London. This American family of Leslies are very talented, and, moreover, have won success, which genius 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. 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. 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 66 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. Washing-forth into warm encomiums on the beauty of Miss ton 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 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 set. Branchley, and even manifested his intention of 66 Why "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, But was there ever a purer red and white, or a nose, mouth, and chin, all more perfectly lovely? Yet these are not the charms to make an impresșion on my heart. Only look at the heavenly blue of her eyes, and the wavy go of her hair! Certainly I am well aware that "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." | | "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." "He's worse than ever since he came to America," murmured Mrs. Bloxham. "A clever lad, sir," continued Bloxham, turn ing to Mr. Mayfield—“a clever lad, as you may 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 |