CHARACTER OF ENGLAND, As it was presented in a Letter to a Nobleman of France, in 1651.

"After a short passage from Calais, we came on shore at Dover, where the people of the town entertain'd us with such suspicious and forbiding countenances, whispering, and stiff postures, that I should never have believed so great a difference in the addresses of two nations could have been produced in so short a trajection, and in a port continually accustom'd to the faces of strangers, had not the contrary humours of our contiguous neighbours, the Spaniards, made it possible in so many pleasant instances. But I was amazed, when we had taken post, and scarce out of the village, at the acclamations of the boys, running after and affrighting our horses, hooting, and crying out, French dogs, French dogs, a Mounser, Mounser!' by a particular expression of welcome, which other people would interpret derision; but in this triumph (though somewhat late e're we set out for Dover) we attain'd as far as Rochester the first night, where, how new a thing it appeared to me, to see my confident host set him down cheek by joul by me, belching and puffing tobacco in my face, you may easily imagine, till I afterwards found it to be the usual stile of this country, and that the gentlemen who lodge at their inns entertain themselves in their company, and are much pleas'd at their impertiuencies. Arriv'd at the metropolis of civility, London, we put our selves in coach with some persons of quality, who came to conduct us to our lodging; but neither was this passage without honour done to us; the kennel dirt, squibs, roots, and ramshornes being favours which were frequently cast at us by the children and apprentises without reproofe; civilities that in Paris a gentleman as seldom meets witball, as with the contest of carmen, who in this town domineer in the streets, o're-throw the hell-carts (for so they name the coaches), cursing and reviling at the nobles: you would imagine yourself amongst a legion of devils, and in the suburbs of hell. I have greatly wondred at the remisness of the magistrate, and the temper of the gentlemen, and that the citizens, who subsist only upon them, should permit so great a disorder, rather joyning in the affronts, than at all chastizing the inhumanity. But these are the natural effects of parity, popular libertinism, and insulary manners.

66

Amongst the pieces of modern architecture, I have never observ'd above two which were remarkable in this vast city; the portico of the Church of St. Pauls, and the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, but you would be amaz'd at the genius of this age, that should suffer this godly and venerable fabrick to be built about, and converted into raskally warehouses, and so sordidly obscur'd and defac'd, that an argument of greater avarice, malice, meanness, and deformity of mind, cannot possibly be expressed; nothing here of ornament; nothing of magnificence, no publique and honourable works, such as render our Paris, and other cities of France, renowned and visited by all the world; emulating even Italy her self for her palaces, uniform and conspicuous structures: but O! how loathsome a Lordship, that England is the sole spot Golgotha is this Pauls! I assure your in all the world where, amongst Christians, their churehes are made jakes and stables, markets and tippling-houses, and where there were more need of scorpions and thongs to drive out the publicans and money-changers; in sum, where these excellent uses are pretended to be the markes of piety and reformation."

AVARICE.

The covetous man is a downright servant, a draught-horse, without bells or feathers; ad metalla damnatus, a man condemned to work in mines, which is the lowest and hardest condition of servitude; and, to increase his misery, a worker there for he knows not whom : 'He heapeth up riches, and knows not who shall enjoy them;' it is only sure, that he himself neither shall nor can enHe is an indigent needy joy them. slave; he will hardly allow himself clothes and board-wages:

Unciatim vix de demenso suo, Suum defraudans genium, comparsit miser. He defrauds not only other men, but his own genius; he cheats himself for money. But the servile and miserable condition of this wretch is so apparent, that we leave it, as evident to every man's sight as well as judgement.

POETRY (ORIGINAL.

THE POET.

Creation at the Poet's birth

Around delighted smil'd,

With flowrets strew'd the gladden'd earth, And rais'd its incense wild..

Soon as the trembling tongue could speak,
It sung its infant lay;
While inspiration warm'd the check,
And fancy lent her ray.

In boyhood's years he lov'd to roam
The charms of nature o'er;
The darken'd forest was his home,
His joy-the tempest's roar.

To him the wildly warbling grove
A magic spell possest;
It wooed his feeling soul to love,

And lull'd his throbbing breast.

There, oft secluded from mankind,

Enwrapt in pleasing thought;
With classic lore he stor❜d his mind,
And hidden wisdom sought.

But ah! by fortune's adverse power,
A slave to bus'ness doom'd;
He wither'd as the early flower,
Ere yet its beauty bloom'd.

HENRY.

LINES TO A DANCING WIDOW.

Right, right, my little widow, right,
The hours of mirth are few;
Then, sans reflection, dance to-night,
For who can censure you?

The sun emerging from a cloud,
Our gladness does enhance;
So it joys me amid the crowd

To see the widow dance.

Are weeds to clog the inmost soul?
To fill the heart with sorrow;
Ah, no! they are but the controul,
That we from custom Borrow.
The flimsy gauze cast o'er a gem,
That we may gaze upon it,
Resembles mush the widow's hem-
Her weepers, cap, and bonnet.
Then dance, my little widow, dance,
"On light fantastic toe;

In train of Terpsichore advance,
Tho' clad in weeds of woe,

J. W. F. BURDEN.

STANZAS ON LIFE.

Life is like the glassy ocean,
Ever wavering, never still;

Its bosom chang'd by each new motion,
Seldom answering to our will:

But now it knows the calm of peace,
And now 'tis ruffled by despair;
But let the winds of trouble cease,
And Hope's bright ray is glitt'ring there.
SCRIBLERUS.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. "W. T." came too late to hand: his account from St. Albans and Calais will appear in our next.

"Momus" will have a place.

"Eliza" is under consideration. "The Selections" we are unable to decypher. Part of" The Indians grave" will do. Two things many Correspondents neglect to do-shorten their articles and pay postage.

Mrs. S. has our best thanks for her poetical favours.

"A Parson is informed we neither preach or publish sermons.

NOTICE.

The whole of the back numbers of the Portfolio have been reprinted, and the 5th vol. is now completed. Those who wish to bind up their numbers can have an engraved title page on application. The 5 volumes contain upwards of 200 engravings, and are sold at the low price of 6s. per vol., in boards.

Printed and Published by T. WOOD, New Church Court, facing Somerset House, Strand; to whom all communications (postpaid) for the Editor, are requested to be addressed; also by J. GIFFORD, 16, Paternoster-Row; and to be had of Simpkin and Marshall, Stationers' Hall Court; Sherwood and Co., Paternoster-Row; of Mc Phun, Glasgow; and of all other Booksellers and Newsmen.

THE ASYLUM FOR FEMALE

ORPHANS.

There is no kingdom in Europe where so many Institutions for the preservation of the human race are to be found, as in England: the helpless of every sex and age have an Asylum provided for them: poverty, disease and affliction are certain of finding a friend. The hoary pilgrim, pursuing, with palsied frame and trembling steps, his last journey, has the evening of his day lighted up by charity, and he is made to go down to the grave in peace. The infant, before it sees the light of heaven, has a place provided, where father, mother, and all are found, to supply those natural ones, which fate, chance, death, or crime, have deprived it of: and almost all the evils of life are guarded against, in this happy land, by the powerful influence of heavenly charity. The Spirit of Mercy is, in this country, never asleep; she keeps on "the noiseless tenor of her way," dispensing blessings with an unsparing hand-indeed the Divine Spirit of Mercy appears wedded to the soil; it shines in the morning ray, basks under the noon tide heat, and hovers in the healing-balm th atdescends on the evening air,

"For ever blessing, and for ever blest."

The Female Orphan Asylum, on the Westminster road, was formed about seventy years ago, by a society of ladies and gentlemen, who took compassion on the numerous orphans who were then found begging in the streets, and becoming the preys of gypsies and thieves.

A house was built in a spacious garden, at the corner of the road leading to Vauxhall and the Obelisk, in St George's fields; and, in a short time, subscriptions flowed in so fast, that the building was encreased, and a chapel built, to which was appended a morning and evening Preacher. Mistresses were made to reside in the school house.Directresses, Visiters, Examiners, Collectors, and Medical Professors, appointed. The children were received at the age of seven years, the only qualification necessary for admission being, that they were parentless, houseless orphans. They are instructed in reading, writing, and arithmetic, all kinds of needle work, dress making and embroidery, with fancy work of every description, and all the arts by which an industrious female can acquire an honest livelihood. At a proper age they are apprenticed out, and those who serve out their time ho

nourably, have a sum of money given

them to settle in life. The Society never loses sight of the well-behaved, but give them marriage portions, and otherwise further their comfortable establishment in the world. It has long been a complaint that the house was inconvenient and by far too small. Donations, legacies, and life subscribers, had enriched the funds so much, it was resolved to erect a new Asylum, every way worthy of the comprehensive charity and grandeur of the metropolis. A plot of ground was purchased near the old house, and a new building finished under the directions, and from the plan of Mr. Smirke the architect; it consists of a front and two side wings, with an elegant iron railing, and Grecian gates in front; facing the high road, in the centre rises a handsome spire of the light Doric order, terminating in a ball cross, and golden arrow weather cock; the pillar, on which rests a small dome, is of an octagan shape, on which is a dial; the entablature, on which is inscribed "Female Orphan Asylum," is placed in a Grecian triangle of Portland stone, with indented cornices, and this rests gracefully upon six columns, those outside being flat, with a plinth and friese of flowery ornament, something in the Tuscan stile; the two middle columms are fluted, with rolled and falling drapery at the summit; they are of the Gothic order, and within them, in a purposely darkened recess, is placed the door, which also is gothic, with a window over it, scolloped and splintered, that has a very handsome appearance. The side wings have attics, finished in modern taste, and the basement story has cathedral windows. A line of handsome, cornice work surmounts the whole, and joins the spiral part; the area in front is spacious, and ornamented with a weeping ash; on the whole, the building is a fine ornament to that part of the town, and creditable to the skill and taste of the architect. The interior is commodiously laid out, and warmed by steam; gas is also introduced, and the new species of ventilation applied to all the apartments. The Chapel is plain and neat, entirely framed of British oak. The old building is now pulling down, and the space on which it stood will be thrown into a large garden and play ground.

Our plate presents an accurate view, taken on purpose for the Portfolio, which we have been anxious to give, well knowing how it would animate every feeling bosom; the expences have been very great, but the object is so praise

worthy-comes so home to every one's heart, we entertain no doubt, but the public will exercise their efforts to support an Institution which preserves from misery and ruin, and trains up in virtue and truth, the Orphan child, who, without it, would become a prey to vice and destruction. Such a building as this possesses a higher character, and a deeper interest than all the shewy mansions dedicated to luxury and dissipation.Here, the Orphan's story is connected with the picture, modest, mild, and prepossessing it requires no laboured delineation-it calls to mind hundreds saved from guilt,infamy, and prostitution the beauty of innocence, and detestation of a foul seducer's atrocity of heart, and infernal conduct.

A more useful, and pleasing present cannot be made to a young person than this illustrated description of an Asylum dedicated to Mercy; these things make a lasting, and good impression on a young person's mind; here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, here grow no antipathies, but every thing calculated to make us pity the- sorrows of the fatherless; this is the sure foundation on which to rear a noble, kind, and intrepid character, and keep our thoughts away from the vices, follies, and absurdities of the age.

The child when, she once enters this Asylum, is, in a manner, new born, and advancing into a new world. From the moment she looks her protectors in the face, she is at peace with her own heart, no angry subjects rise to disturb the silent progress of her reformation-no irritable humours are set afloat. The mind is calm, and full at the same time; the hand and eye are equally employedsomething is learnt every moment---no playing of tricks, or purposely mistaking things; each is made to set down what she sees, to find out her own error, and correct it. Labour is suited to the constitution--patience grows out of the endless pursuit, and turns it into a luxury.

The hours pass away untold, without chagrin, and free from ennui, and the child would never wish to pass them otherwise. Innocence is joined with industry, pleasure with business, and the infant mind is satisfied, though it is not engaged in thinking, or doing any mischief.

To forward such a humane and religious object is the duty of all-even the widow's mite is acceptable to the parentless child: and it gives us pleasure

to think, that in the wide circulation of the Portfolio, we, by engravings and notices of objects similar to "The Orphan's Home," gratify all our readers, and set the stream of charity flowing into that divine ocean of peace, of which it is emphatically said in scripture, "cast thy bread upon the waters, and thou shall find it after many days."

THE RUINS OF AGRIGENTUM.

Time has spread over them its sombre tints, which blend harmoniously with the surrounding landscape, and throw, as it were, a sacred charm around its rocks and mountains.

Imagination can scarcely conceive a more glorious prospect than that which the southern cliff of this great city once displayed, surmounted bya longunbroken line of the finest monuments of Grecian art! Amongst them stood six majestic temples, of that severe Doric order, which so happily combines elegance and simplicity with solidity and grandeur. The S. E. angle is still seen crowned with the ruinated colonnade of Juno Lacinia, surrounded by broken masses of its entablature: next to it is a very fine temple nearly entire, except the roof, commonly supposed to have been dedicated to Concord, being indebted for this extraordinary state of preservation to the piety of those ages which converted it into a Christian church. That of

Hercules, the next in order, seems to have been demolished by the violence of an earthquake, as it lies in all the confusion which such an overthrow would be expected to occasion. This was one of held by the citizens in peculiar venerathe finest temples of Agrigentum, and Parthenon of Athens, and contained setion; in size and plan it resembled the veral chef d'œuvres of painting and statuary. Its inimitable picture of Hercules strangling the serpents, was presented to the Agrigentines by Zeuxis; the Adytum was adorned with a miracle of art, a statue of the presiding deity by Myro, who inscribed his own name upon the thigh, in small studs of silver. Cicero, in his lively description of a nocturnal attempt made by the emiss ries of Verres to carry off this statue, takes notice of a circumstance, which shows how similar are the effects of superstition in all ages; he observes, that its mouth and chin, though made of bronze, were actually worn by the kisses of its admiring vo- taries!