MRS. ELIZABETH CARTER. after he became a widower, that he wished to marry her. This, however, she always denied, and was fully convinced that he felt for her nothing more than friendship and esteem. The same was reported of Dr. Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and afterwards of London. Once indeed, when the two bishops and Mrs. Carter were together, Dr. Secker jocularly alluded to the subject, and said, "Brother Hayter, the world says one of us two is to marry Madam Carter," by which name he was accustomed to address her; "now, I have no such intention, and therefore resign her to you." Dr. H., with more gallantry replied, "that the world did him great honour by the report, and that he would not pay his Grace the same compliment.” Her mode of life is thus humorously described in a letter to Miss Talbot, written in 1749. After mentioning her plan for being called early, she says: "And now I am up, you will perhaps inquire to what purpose. I set down to my lessons as regularly as a school boy, and lay in a stock of learning to make a figure with at breakfast; but for this I am not yet ready. My general practice is, about six, to walk, sometimes alone, and at others with a female companion, whom I call on in my way, and drag out half asleep. Many are the exercises of patience she meets with in our peregrinations; sometimes half roasted with the full glare of sunshine on an open common; then dragged through a threadpaper path, in the middle of a corn field; and bathed up to the ears in dew; and at the end of it, perhaps, forced to scratch her way through the bushes of a close shady lane, never before frequented by any animal but birds. In short, at the conclusion of our walk, we make such deplorably draggled figures, that I wonder some prudent country justice does not take us up for vagrants, and cramp our rambling genius in the stocks. When I have made myself fit to appear among human creatures, we go to breakfast, and are, as you imagined, extremely chatty; and this, and tea in the after noon, are the most delightful parts of the day. Our family is now reduced to my eldest sister, and a little boy, who is very amusing at other times, but over our tea every body is so eager to talk, that all his share is, to stare and eat prodigiously. We have a great variety of topics, in which every body joins, till we get insensibly upon books, and whenever we go beyond French and Latin, my sister and the rest walk off, and leave my father and me to finish the discourse, 111 and the tea-kettle together, which we should infallibly do, if it held as much as Solomon's molten sea. After breakfast, every one follows their separate employments, and my first care is, to water the pinks and roses which are stuck about in twenty different parts of the room; when this task is finished, I sit down to an old spinnet, which in its best state may have cost about £15, with as much importance as if I knew how to play. After having deafened myself for about half an hour, with all manner of noises, I proceed to some other employment, for about the same time, for longer I seldom apply to anything: and thus between reading, writing, working, twirling the globes, and running up and down stairs, to see where every body is, and how they do, which furnishes me with little intervals of talk, I seldom want entertainment. Of an afternoon I sometimes go out, not so often however as in civility I ought to do; for it is always some mortification to me not to drink tea at home. About eight, I visit a very agreeable family, where I have spent every evening these fourteen years. I always return precisely at ten, beyond which hour I do not desire to see the face of any living wight, and thus I finish my day, and this tedious description of it, that you have so unfortunately drawn upou yourself! Mrs. Carter's great work, the translation of Epictetus, with a preliminary discourse and excellent notes, was completed in 1758: she occasionally contributed to the Rambler, and in 1761 published a volume of poems, many of which are elegant, Those habits of application and correctness she had acquired in the pursuit of knowledge, she successfully applied to the current purposes of life; to the latest period of existence she retained her aptitude for study, and even persevered in the laudable habit of yielding a portion of every day to classical literature. Nor did she ever cease to cherish that spirit of independence, that taught her to value the privileges of home; in her anuual visits to the metropolis, she resisted every solicitation to domesticate in the houses of the great, constantly returning to her own lodging in Berkeley Street, where she could enjoy the privi ledes of her own fire-side. The purity of her character, her moral worth, her benevolence and dignity, are justly valued. Mrs. Carter lived to a great age, and died in London, Feb. 19, 1806. M. ACCOUNT OF A ST. ELM'S FIRE SEEN IN POLAND. CAPTAIN Bourdet gives an account of an electrical appearance he observed in Poland, in the month of December, 1806. The winter was remarkably mild, no snow had fallen, but storms were frequent. One evening about nine o'clock, after a violent gust of wind, the night became so dark that riders could no longer see even the head of their horses, and so violent a storm arose that the horses were forced to balt; but their ears became speedily luminous at the tops, as also all the long hair of the body, with the exception of that of the mane and tail. All the metallic ends of the harness became luminous, as if they were covered with a swarm of luminous worms. The whiskers of M. Bourdet, and that of the other cannoneers, also shone; but neither the eyebrows nor hair became luminous. This appearance continued as long as the gust of wind; that is, about three or four minutes As soon as the wind ceased, the luminous appear. ances vauished, and a violent shower of rain fell. TO CORRESPONDENTS. WE cannot insert the lines to “Anna,” E. S. C***y, must be aware they were sent to us as original, and we are not accustomed to deceive our readers, for the gratification of any Correspondent. Whatever the motive of E. S. C***y may be to pass off his stanzas as original, he will not find the PORTFOLIO subservient to his purposes. The "Legend of Lough-Morn" appears in our present Number; for that production we thank bim, and hope for more of the same description. He must pardon our plainness and apparent want of politeness, but we have a duty we owe to the public to perform; and, when called on to exert it, we must not spare even our friends. We have to apologise to our Correspondents, for the insertion of an " Acrostic to Margaret, in a former Number: the appearance of which was owing to a mistake; its' amiable and romantic author, "Leander" (a ci-devant relation of the Hellespont Youth, we suppose), has written a long letter to us, about his courting the Muses “from his childhood upwards," The young! the beautiful! the brave! Who would not see, and could not hear, Or sign or sound foreboding fear! we caution him to stick a little more to that old-fashioned, but useful ornament boast of being able to increase the sale. to a man,-truth:for we do not credit his of this Publication or any other; and our two contemporaries, to whom he so famili arly and confidently alludes, we feelassured will treat his intended communications with the contempt they deserve : for our own part, we assert that neither ourselves, or the Publisher, will ever suffer the PORTFOLIO to be made the vehicle of any nonsense like Leander's.-We have now done with this ridiculous Correspondent, and, begging he will never again trouble, uswith his poetical-prose, or prosical-pos try, we bid him, his fair "Mariamne," aud sweet "Margaret," a long, and, as we hope, last adieu! T. N. will find a note left for him with our Publisher. Mr. A. Sinclair's “Moonlight Effusions" will not suit our pages. Any communications of Alpha we will gladly peruse; although we do not promise to insert the same. We shall avail ourselves of his advice, when we need it. L.'s poetry shall be inserted. We thank the author of the "Don and Dee" for his elegant litlte piece: we hope he will endeavour to favour us with more of the same description. "Love," by Mary Mortimer, is inadmissible. The same answer will suffice for Marmaduke, L. L. L., and Sebastiano. We regret our inability to gratify the wishes of many kind correspondents, who weekly inflict a severe punishment on our patience by the perusal of their nonsense. This bit is applicable particularly to M. D.--n., A.Z. T., and the above-named fair Mary Mortimer. LONDON: -WILLIAM CHARLTON WRIGHT, 65, Paternoster The Portfolio, Comprising I. THE FLOWERS OF LITERATURE. II. THE SPIRIT OF THE MAGAZINES. III. THE WONDERS OF NATURE AND ART. IV. THE ESSENCE OF ANECDOTE AND WIT. V. THE VI. THE MECHANICS' ORACLE. DOMESTIC GUIDE. Our English castles appear of no generally chosen figure, except such as were founded by the Romans, who preferred that of an oblong square, unless in cases where there were special reasons to the contrary. Small castles consisted of a single court, or ward, whose sides were usually flanked by towers. The great hall, chapel, and domestic apartments, built from the outer wall into the court, occupied one or more sides. The citadel, called also the keep and dungeon, was a tower of eminent strength, wherein the garrison made their last stand, and where prisoners were sometimes confined: the citadel was often detached from the walls, and built on an artificial mound, encircled with a ditch. The barracks for the soldiers in garrison were generally a range of buildings near the gate-house, or principal entrance. The latter building contained apartments for the officers of the castle, and the portal was furnished with one, two, or three port cullisses. A wet or dry moat surrounded the whole, and advanced before the draw bridge which crossed it; there was often an out work called a barbican. Large castles were only a repetition of these courts, upon somewhat of a larger scale, connected with each other. In fortresses of the first class, an extensive embattled wall sometimes encircled the mass of fortification already described, at some distance, enclosing a considerable tract of ground. Castle walls appear in some instances built of solid masonry, but their general construction is of what is understood by grout work. For this purpose, two slight walls were built parallel to each other, from six to twelve feet asunder the internal was then fitted up with loose stones and rubbish, and the whole cemented together, with a great quantity of fluid (according to some authors, boiling) nurtar: the mass soon acquired a sufficient firmness, and in the pressnt day such constructions present the solidity and adhesion of the solid rock. Of this description are many of the walls and foundations of Dover Castle; and to this have been added, from age to age, such superstructure as has been suited to the advancements of military skill and architectural knowledge. The greatest improvements it has perhaps altogether received, and the most important alterations, (involving, indeed, its very character and its application to the purposes of defence) were made during the first or revolutionary war with France, between the years 1794 and 1800, but principally between 1798 and 1802, when our coasts were held in hourly ex pectation of hostile descents from the enemy. Our visit to this imposing and formidable fortress was in 1805, at the time when it was in fresh possession of its newly acquired vigour, and, with a garrison of 6,000 British troops, at once defied a landing within range of its batteries, and practically forbade any advance into the heart of the country from a landing on any distant point. The whole extent of beach, of water, and of ground, within range, was rendered untenable to an enemy's force; the roads completely commanded, and, to provide against the probability of sudden and desperate occupation, they were mined, and might, at any moment, be blown into the air! with the precision of the proceedings of a regular defence in siege. The troops occupied in the internal defence of the castle, were provided with bomb-proof barracks, at a considerable depth in the solid rock, to which the light of day was admitted by immense funnels or inverted cones of masonry; and the greater part of the guns appropriated to the defence of the place, so contrived, as to work under cover, and so as not to expose the men who worked them. Our cut is made from an originat drawing of the castle, from the summit of the ever-famous Shakspeare-Cliff; with the immortal poet's description of which we conclude our sketch : "How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The craws and choughs, that wing the midway Though scarce so big as beetles; half way air, down those woes. TO GREECE. (From the New Monthly Mag.) The maids who wreathed the laurel crowns for Who fought at Marathon, did never twine Garlands, O Greece! for nobler sons of thine Than these-the champions of thy tears and Nor history in her ample volume shows [sign More glorious tales-since fame did first conTo her the pen of Time, and task divine Down to oblivion each illustrious name To rescue from the dusky stream that flows And fair achievement-than her present page Shall now disclose, when she shall proudly write In deathless characters the deeds of fame Of Grecian heroes, who on this dark age Have cast the brightness of immortal light. SKETCHES AT A WATERING PLACE. SKETCHES AT A WATERING PLACE. Original. No. 1.--THE ARRIVAL. How comfortless is the day of arrival at a watering place! At least such was the case with our arrival at After a fatiguing ride, we found the letter bespeaking rooms, &c. had been misdirected, and after complaints and excuses had mutually passed between the landlord and our party, the end was, that we were obliged to be contented with rooms ont of the hotel for a few days. And now came the miseries of unpacking in a hurry, the things you most want being always most difficult to find, and we, the ladies of the party, being of course anxious to appear to the best advantage, on our first introduction, were sadly discomfited at having our hair en dishabille, and curling-irons were not to be procured. In the midst of the operation of dressing, the second dinner-bell rang, and we hurried to the hotel, in time to find the soup ended, the fish cold, and to receive the accustomed stare from np. wards of ninety people. But now the first few awkward minutes are over, suppose we summon courage to look round, and take a survey of the company. How often on the first glance, or from the first few words, we decidewhomwe shall,and whom we shall not like; thus a few civil attentions from our opposite neighbour, have decided that he is "a very pleasant man:" while an attack that I received from the opera-glass of S, who with his gay sisters, was seated near the top of our table, has set him down for quite the contrary. From the frequent repetitions of "major this," and "captain that," with occasionally a,---"general, may I have the honour of taking wine with you?" one would imagine we had a whole regiment at table with us. I wonder who the gay lady in the pearl coronet is, she ought to be a countess at least from her apparel.---And who is the sedate-looking man near her? he looks as though illhealth had been his companion lately, and I think his complexion hints of India ---and who?---but see this lovely romping girl running in---what beautiful clustering curls hang over her forehead and 115 neck, only in too great profusion,---and her lovely mouth! but I fear, from the way in which she displays her white teeth, that she has been told too often what a pretty girl she is. There are many of whom I long to know who and what they are, but I must trust to time or chance to make the discovery, for the signal is given for the ladies to retire, and we must follow in the train. But see us now assembled in the drawing-room; coffee concluded, what are to be the amusements of the evening? No dancing to-night? Well, the ladies are making a snug working party, and the gentlemen must form a rubber. Let us accept the ladies' invitation to join their table, and suppose I draw a sketch of the gentleman who is paying so many compliments to Miss B. (who seems to receive them entirely as a matter of course,) though by the bye, it was not till after a month's acquaintance that I found the proper colours with which to paint his character. Dr. is a physician who has travelled much, and who, possessing a good knowledge of languages, introduces them, necessary or not, into all his con. versation. He is one of our presidents, and does not abate one jot of the honours of his office. Yet in spite of his display he is a pleasant man, and endeavours, to make himself agreeable, which is what I cannot say of all. He is a widower, looking out for a second wife, and though above forty, pays his court, and his compliments, to every young lady under eight and twenty, provided she is not, as he says, intolerably plain." The two ladies sitting apart, are the Hon. Mrs. R.- and her daughter,-she never forgets that she is the honourable, and looks down on us untitled souls with suitable contempt; and her daughter, on the strength of her fortune, for she is an heiress, awes all who attempt to approach her into proper distance-no, nothing less than a title will ever obtain Miss R.'s hand. How delightful it is to turn from these over-acted airs of gentility, to a true, perfect lady, such as Mrs. A—, who, with her two daughtets and son, form a true specimen of elegaut mauners. Plain in her dress, almost as a quakeress, she affects no style, makes no pretensions; yet she is one, whom you soon perceive to be a lady in the fullest sense of the word. But we travellers must retire this gay scene is almost too great a change from our still, country life, and we must try to sketch again to-morrow. M. |