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It is scarcely possible not to prostrate ourselves with deep humility before the throne of that Almighty being who wields, directs, and limits the career of an element which, if let loose on this firm globe, would winnow it to dust.
When we behold the birds that wing their way through this immeasurable void, through what vast tracts and undiscovered paths they se k their distant food; with what love and gratitude should we not reflect, that if he in mercy has become their pilot and their guide, how much n ore will he prove to us a sure and never failing protector.
And when we turn our eyes from earth, its falling leaves and fading aspect, its gathering gloom and treacherous meteors, to that great and glorious vault where "urn the steady lamps of heaven, or where, shooting into interminable space, low streams of inextinguishable lustre, we are almost instinctively reminded, that here our days are numbered, that on this low planet brief is the time the oldest oeing lives, and that, passing from this transitory state, we are destined to pursue our course in regions of ever-dunmr light, in worlds of never-changing beauty.
It is owing to these, and similar reductions, which it has been the business of this caper to accumulate, that autumn
has been ever felt as more peculiarly the Season of Religions Hope. Amid vicissitude and decay, amid apparent ruin and destruction, we behold the seeds of life and renovation; for he who pervades and dwells with all things, the unchangeable and immortal Spirit, has so ordained the course of organized nature, that not only is life the precursor of death, but the latter is essential to the renewal of existence, a chain and catenation, a cycle, as it were, of vitality, which tells us, in the strongest language of analogy, that if such seem the destiny of irrational nature, if thus she die to live again, how assured should he the hope of intellectual being.
To him who views the temporary desolation of the year with no consolatory thought—who sees not, in the seeming ruin which surrounds him, any hope or emblem of a better world, who hears not the accents of dying nature responding to the voice of revelation, and telling or a Spring beyond the grave—to him who is insensible to reliances such as these, to hopes which can whisper peace, and soothe the evils of mortality, how stale, flat, and unprofitable must appear all the uses of this feverish existence, lie may be told, in the language of the poet, in the language of faith and heartfelt consolation,
To you the beauties of the autumnal year
Make mournful emblems, and you think of man
Doom'd to the grave's long winter, spirit broke,
Bending beneath the burden of his years,
Sense-dull'd and fretful, full of aches and pains.
Yet clinging still to life. To me they show
The calm decay of nature, when the mind
Retains its strength, and in the languid eye
Religion's holy hopes kindle a joy
That makes old age look lovely. All to you
Is dark and cheerless; you in this fair world
See some destroying principle abroad,
Air, earth, and water full of living things
Each on the other preying; and the ways
Of man, a strange perplexing labyrinth,
Where crimes and miseries, each producing each,
Render life loathsome, and destroy the hope
That should in death bring comfort. Oh, my friend, .
That thy faith were as mine 1 that thou could'st see
Death still producing life, and evil still
Working its own destruction; could'st behold
The strifes and tumults of this troubled world
With the strong eye that sees the promised day
Dawn thro' this night of tempest! all things then
Would minister to joy; then should thine heart
Be healed and harmonized, and thou should'st feel
lr>d, always, every where, and all in all. . Soulhfy.
Though November is proverbially the gloomiest month in the year, it is conspicuously rich in beef, mutton, veal, pork, and house-lamb, as well as in fish, poultry, game, and wild fowl. Thus, by an admirable provision in the economy of nature, at the season when the human appetite is increasing in strength, the means of gratifying it are multiplied. Among the infinite variety of dishes formed, or compounded of these elements, it is difficult to distinguish any one which peculiarly belongs to this division of the year; the difference-of taste or choice being most observable at the period when its objects are most diversified. Yet pork during the winter months is in universal request, not only as being of itself an excellent plain dish either roast or boiled, but as affording the chief ingredient in the composition of sausages, &c. When boiled its usual escort is peas-pudding. I [are-soup may be noticed as a rich and seasonable luxury. There is now also a great consumption of oysters, as well in1 their simple state as scolloped, stewed, roasted, or served up in sauce for fowls, beef-steaks, &c.
The season for sprats commences on Lord Mayor's day, the 9th ot November, which is more eminently distinguished by the magnificent and sumptuous dinner given in Guildhall, in honor of the new chief magistrate of the city of London, when the choicest dishes in season, and every delicacy which wealth can procure, or culinary skill devise, are produced in a style worthy the great occasion.
Vegetable Garden Directory.
Early peas and mazagan beans; also short-topped radish; to be covered with litter during hard frosts.
For seed, cabbage-stalks, also beet-root and carrot.
Brocoli, cauliflower, and cabbage plants effectually, drawing the earth close about the stems, and placing it ridgeways, but not so high as t.i bury any leafstalks.
Beet-roots, carrots, parsneps, and some celery ; remove them to a dry cellar or bury them in sand.
Artichoke and asparagus beds.
Routine culture. Dig and trench vacant ground in the driest weather that the season will afford. Remove and protect endive, celery, also Cape brocoli and autumnal cauliflowers, by placing them in an out-house, immersed in sand to the lower extremities of the flower stems, where they ramify from the stalk. By such means, these choice vegetables may be had during the depth of winter.
All Saints, Or All Hallows.
Mr. Britton observes, in his " Cathedral Antiquities," that many popish superstitions are visible throughout all the principality of Wales. In the county of Monmouth, more particularly, a custom prevails among the lower classes of the inhabitants, both catholics and prates tants, of begging bread for the souls of the departed on the first of November, or All Saints day: the bread thus distributed is called dolt bread. Another ancient custom is still prevalent in Monmouthshire, that of strewing the graves of the departed and the church-yard with flowers and evergreens, on festive and holy days
November 1, 1726, died Lewis Maximilian Mahomet, a Turk, who had been taken by the Imperialists in Hungary, with Mustapha, his countryman. Mahomet was supposed to be the son of a bashaw. They both went into the service of George Lewis, then electoral prince of Hanover, whose life they are supposed to have saved, at the raising of the siege of Vienna, in 1685, when the prince war wounded. This mussulman became christian, and received his baptismal name of Lewis from his patron, who was one of his godfathers, and Maximilian, from the prince Maximilian, who also honored him as a sponsor. When prince George Lewis ascended the British throne as George I., Mahomet and Mustapha came with him to England, and the former was always about the royal person. By some they are called pages of the back stairs; by others, attendants in the privy chamber. They certainly were admitted into great familiarity, and tlieir .nfluence was so great, that, in a dispatch of Count Broglio to the king of France, they are mentioned as possessing a large share of His Majesty's confidence.— These two foreigners," says Mr. Coxe, "obtained considerable sums of money for recommending to places." Mahomet died of a dropsy, and in the "Historical Register" he is called, " valet de chambre to His Majesty." he left a family by a Hanoverian of good birth, who survived him, and well provided for them. It has been asserted, upon good authority, that after Mahomet came to England, he paid the debts of above three hundred persons who lay confined for petty sums, and released them from prison. Forty years, attendance upon courts, those nurseries of flattery and deceit, made not the least impression upon him. "He deserved power, for no other acts of his are known, than those of beneficence and humanity, which, upon every occasion, he exercised in their full degree. In him the distressed never wanted a friend. Never did be burden the royal ear with complaints; nor ever presume to ask a favor, though at the most awful distance, for himself." Pope thus records Mahomet's worth in a poetical epistle :— From peer or bishop '• is no easy thing To draw the man who loves his God or king. Alas! I copy (or my draught would fail) From Honest Mah'met.or plain Parson Hale.
There is a portrait of Mahomet, and another of Mustapha, on the great staircase of Kensington-palace, painted by Kent.*
John Fransham, a learned and eccentric schoolmaster at Norwich, was born in that city in March, 1730, and died there on the 1st of February, 1810. His father was sexton of St. George's parish; and there he was educated as boys in his condition usually are, with the addition of Latin from Mr. Pagan: in consideration of his dawning talents, he derived much gratuitous instruction from Dr. John Taylor. While quite a boy he composed some sermons, which the Rev. Dr. Salter, then
minister of St. George's, presented to the dean, who expressed his approbation of their language and manner. He applied himself to a course of preparatory study for the University, with a view to go into the church, in which design he was encouraged by pecuniary aid from a relation, who promised to continue it while he remained at college. Before Fransham could be entered, this relation died; and, his friends not being able to afford even his ordinary maintenance, he was placed with another relation, a cooper, at Wymondham, to learn the art and mystery of making tubs and barrels. He deserted this employment in about three weeks, and resorted to various expedients for maintaining himself by his pen. None of these were successful, and, on his father observing that he could not supply him with clothing, for that in the article of shoes only he had of late been very expensive, the son immediately resolved to discard shoes and stockings. His persistence in this resolution for nearly three years, with other eccentricities, induced his father to suspect that his intellects were disordered. This was a mistake.— Fransham was prevailed on to accept the situation of writing clerk in the office of Mr. Marshall, an attorney, where he found little of philosophy or literature, in compensation for laborious confinement and monotonous drudgery. He quitted the attorney's to learn weaving under Daniel Wright, a journeyman, with whom he continued two years, and supported himself almost wholly by the loom.
There was a peculiar bent in Fransham's inclinations. He had early resolved to devote himself to philosophy and the muses, and detested every species of manual employment which hindered him from either thinking or conversing upon his favorite subjects. The hammer of the coopeiage, and the copying of conveyances, restrained him from both, but, as a weaver, he was happy. Daniel Wright was after his own heart—a selftaught man of talent, unaided by the smiles of fortune or the assistance of the great. Wright had acquired considerable knowledge, and reflected deeply. Fransham used to say he was one who could discourse well on the " nature and fitness of things—he possessed a fine philosophical spirit—a soul well purified from vulgar errors." The nature of their employment allowed them to converse together for several hours in the day. Fransham placed his loom opposite to Wright's, and while at their occupation they discoursed without interruption to (their employment. Wright died; and Fransham was again unsettled. He lost a friend of kindred spirit, who stimulated nis exertions, encouraged his progress, and rewarded his labors: and, soon after this bereavement, Fransham formed the resolution of visiting the Highlands. He nad acquired a high esteem for the Scottish character, and seemed to consider Scotland as a country happily placed between riches and poverty. He was now about eighteen, and he desired to place himself under able professors of the University of Edinburgh or Glasgow, as long as his finances would permit, and afterwirds explore the Highlands. He strolled to Yarmouth, whence he embarked for North Shields, with an intention of walking to the Highlands; but at Newcastle his means of proceeding failed, and there he enlisted for a soldier into the Old Buffs, from which regiment he was soon discharged, because he was too bandylegged for the service. Without further resources he could not go to Scotland; and he walked back to Norwich, with three half-pence in this pocket, and a plaid he had bought on the way. It was probably about this time that—strange to say—Fransham joined a company of strolling players, who were accustomed to perform in a barn at Aylesham, in Norfolk. He was deemed the fittest person to perform Acasto, in the Orphan— Foigard in the Beaux Stratagem—Iagoin Othello—and Shylock in the Merchant of Venice. The performance did not "draw," and the manager paid his company with turnips. Fransham had proffered his services for whatever value the manager might set upon them. He expressed himself perfectly satisfied with turnips and water, till one of the performers, aware of Fransham's honesty and his rising merits as an actor, told him the turnips were stolen from the neighbouring fields. It proved to be a fact, and Fransham indignantly threw up his articles.
Fransham now engaged himself as a
Private tutor to the children of Mr. eman, a farmer at Hellesdon: this was about the year 1750. At the end of two or three years this source of support failed him, and he once more had recourse to the occupation of writing for attorneys and authors. In this latter capacity, he
was employed by the Rev. Samuel Bourne, formerly minister of the Ocingun Chapel at Norwich. He was then twentyfour years of age, and became a member of a society established about that period in Norwich, among men of original minds and small incomes, for their mutual improvement in mathematics and experimental philosophy. There he formed an acquaintance with John Barnard, a humble weaver, distinguished for high attainments in the mathematical sciences; and with Clover, a skilful veterinary surgeon, who excelled in mathematics and natural philosophy. Clover's knowledge of mathematics was superior to that of Fransham, but Fransham was Clover's superior in the classics; they discovered that they could be of service to each other, and formed a friendly connexion. At Clover's farriery they worked Latin exercises, and mathematical problems,upon aslate hung against the forge. Thus each was tutor and pupil to the other. After correcting a theme, or discussing the properties of the circle, Fransham earned his frugal meal by conducting home the horses which Clover had shod. The meal was not, however, bestowed as a reward for this sort of service. His kindness to animals in general, and his attachment to horses in particular, prompted him to earnestly entreat that he might be allowed the liberty of leading home—for he would not be so cruel as to ride—the horses after they were shod, that he might save them from sufferings he had often seen inflicted. His constant and kind performance of this duty procured him the ill will of Clover's workmen, and for this offensive humanity they avenged themselves by purposely throwing hot horseshoes about the shop, with which Fransham, owing to the nakedness of his feet, several times burnt himself. His sufferings on these occasions convinced him that he must either wear shoes and stockings, or forego the pleasure of befriending his favorite animals; and, rather than forego the pleasures of pure benevolence, he submitted to once more cover his legs and feet. The torture which he saw at Clover's, by what he emphatically dpneminated in his writings "the English, but brutal and barbarous customs of horstdocking and horse-nicking,'' filled him with astonishment and horror; and the adoption or rejection of the practice, by any individual, was to him a criterion ol the character of the man; insomuch, thui being once asked, during a contest for members of parliament, which of the candidates he would vote for if he had a vote, he replied, " I would vote for him who has humanity enough to drive longtailed horses."
From this time, about 17C0 to 1771, Fransham continued to support himself by occasionally assisting authors and attorneys, and giving lessons in the classics and mathematics. During this period the Chute family, with whom Fransham's sister lived as housekeeper, allowed him to sleep in their Norwich house, and to use their library. One morning early, while in bed, he thought lie distinctly heard young Mr. Chute call him; and, on the repetition of the voice, dressed himself, and went down stairs to meet him. He neither found that gentleman nor any one else.and very composedly returned to his rest. On mentioning the circumstance to his sister, she predicted the death of the young Mr. Chute, who had been for some time indisposed at Pickenham; and in a lew hours afterwatds they received information that he had died during the preceding night. By Mr. Chute's death he was deprived of a mate- rial portion of support. lie had very little business from attorneys, no employment from authors, and scarcely a single private pupil. His income was not equal to his wants, and, to prepare for the worst possible condition, he tried with how little expense he could sustain nature. Every day he bought a farthing's-worth of potatoes, and, having previously purchased a farthing's-worth of salt, he reserved one polatoe from his daily stock, as a compensation for the salt which he ate with the remainder. By boiling the potatoes at the fire of the host with whom he lodged, and by making a dinner his only meal, he maintained himself for some time at the rate of a farthing by day. That he might be fully prepared for abject and fugitive poverty, he resolved to try the possibility of sleeping in the open air, and repaired one night to Mouse-holdheath, some high hills in the neighbourhood of Norwich, and there, with a plaid for his covering, a green turf for his pillow, and the firmament for his canopy, he slept till he was awakened by the song of the sky-lark, and the dews of the morning. The night damps afflicted him with a violent cold, and he never repeated the experiment. He now began to practise a singular exercise, by throwing a stick
loaded with lead at one end, and pacing the distance from the place of projection to the place of fall, he ascertained, from the increasing length of that distauce, the increase of his muscular power and skill in throwing. After a time he exchanged tins relaxation for the less laborious exercise of playing with balls and marbles, beating a drum, and blowing the hautboy. On the latter instrument he performed well, and was accustomed to secrete himself in the thickets of a neighbouring wood, and so "charm the listening shades."
According to Mr. W. Saint, from whose Memoirs of Fransham these particulars are derived, about 1770, or 1771, Mr. Samuel Leeds, a member of the Society of Friends, and a former pupil of Fransham's, went to London with a view to practise physic. At the instigation of the late Dr. Fothergill, Leeds was summoned by the college of physicians to undergo an examination concerning his knowledge and skill in medicine. The better to acquit himself in Latin, he sent for Fransham to London, whose services were rewarded with aguineaa-week. Fransham remained in the metropolis about nine months, confining his instructions wholly, perhaps, to Dr. Leeds, of whom he used to speak in terms of high commendation, for his unassuming modesty, and inoffensive character. Dr. Leeds had obtained a considerable practice in his neighbourhood, near the monument; but his practice declined, and he died of a broken heart, from the unkind treatment which, Fransham used to say, he had experienced from Dr. Fothergill. While in London, FraDshara knew the under librarian at the queen's palace, who, being intimate with Foote, acquainted him with the eccentricities of Fransham, and the deportment of Leeds ; and soon afterwards the pupil and the tutor were dramatised, and exhibited to the public as Dr. Last and Johnny Macpherson.
After Fransham's return to Norwich, about 1771 or 1772, he attended the family of the Rev. Dr. Cooper, at Brooke, to which place he walked on the Saturday, and remained till the Monday morning or evening. This he did every week for two years, during the summer season, till, finding the walk too long, he relinquished his attendance on the following year. He had not received any remuneration for these walks and instruction, beyond board and lodging while with the family. In Tim course of time Dr. Cooper obtained