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At the ch*e of the Senior in Yale
College, on the 18 tk ofjuly, a Poem was p;o-
nounced on the occasion with good effect, by Mr.
N. P. Willis, of Boston, of which the following
is an extract:—
" So lives the soul of man. It is the thirst
Of his immortal nature, and he rends
the rock for secret fountains, and pursues
The path of the illimitable wind
Tor mysteries—and this is human pride.
There is a gentler element—and man
May breathe it with a calm unruffled soul,'
|And drink its living waters till his heart
Efs pure, and this is human happiness.
Its secret and its evidence are writ
In the broad book of nature. ’Tis to have
[Attentive and believing faculties ;
‘ To go abroad rejoicing in the joy
Of beautiful and well created things ;
To love the voice of waters, rnd the sheen
Of silver fountains leaping to the sea;
To thrill with the rich melody of birds
Living their life of music ; to be glad
In the gay sunshine, reverent in the storm ;
To see a beauty in the stirring leaf,
And find calm thoughts beneath the whisperin
tree ;
To see. and heay and breath the evidence
Of God’s deep wisdom in the natural world.
It is to linger on the magic face
Of human beauty, and from light and shade
Alike to draw a lesson ; ’tis to love
The cadences of voices that are tuned
Tiy purity and majesty of thought;
To dwell on woman’s beauty like a star
Whose purify and distance make it fair;
And in the gush of music to be still,
And feel tha' it has purified the heart.
It is to love all Virtue for itself,
All Nature for its breathing evidence ;
And when the eve hath seen, and when the car
Hath drank the beautiful harmony of the world,
It is to humble the imperfect mind
And lean the broken spirit up to God.”
FROM THF. HALLOWEtL GAZETTE.
What though we range >n ceaseless change
And wander on from pole to pole ;
TVhat though bright eyes and sunny skies,
And realms of beauty charm the soul;
What though in mind all unconfined
We range each land of beauty o’er ;—
We still may roam, nor find a home,
From clinle to clime, from shore to shore.
The brightest eyes and heavenliest skie=.
May warm our hearts where’er we roam ;
But still the breast, all void of rest,
And wearied spirit turn to nosic.
Dearer than all we can recall
Of golden visions rudely broken,
Or than the voice of her, our choice,
When love’s first, faltering word was spoken,
Is the sweet thought full often brought
From memory’s brightest, dearest bower,
That bears us back on that loved track
We trod in childhood’s guiltless hour :
For then the eye turns lingeringly
Back to the still remember’d dome,
And through the rime of snowy time
Looks weeping on its earliest home.
The riper grace that we may trace
In beauty’s autumn still may charm,
May fire the heart, and bliss impart,
And still the cooling bosom warm ;
But who that turns, while passion burns,
Back to his youth’s bright, ardent hour,
When first he felt what ’twas to melt
To simple, artless beauty’s power,
But mourns the day that saw him stray
O’er friendless, cheerless lands to roam,
Aud wonders why he e’er could fly,
And leave that consecrated home. II.
P , July, 1327.
From Blackwood s Edinburgh Magazine.
TH32 3&A2SJ ^ THE
In my younger days, bell ringing was
jnuch more in fashion among the young
ruen of , than it is now. No bodv,
I believe, practises it there at present ex
cept the servants in the church, and the
melody has been much injured in conse
quence. Some fifty years ago, about
twenty of us dwelt in the vicinity of the
Cathedral, formed a club, which used to
ring every peal that was called for; and
from continual practice and a rivalry
which arose between us and a club a-
ttached to another steeple, and which
tended considerably to sharpen our zeal,
we became very Bozarts on our favorite
instruments. But my bell-ringing prac
tice was shortened by a singular accident,
which not only stoptmv performance, but
made even the sound of a bell terriblo to
my ears.
One Sunday I went with another into
the belfrey to ring for noon prayers, but
the second stroke we had pulled showed
us that the clapper of the bell we were at
was muffled. Some one had Been buried
that morning, and it had been prepared,
of course, to ring a mournful note. We
did not know of this, but the remedy was
easy. “Jack,” said my companion, “step
up to the loft, and cut off the hatfor
the way we had of muffling was by tying a
piece of an old hat, or cloth, (the former
was preferred,) to one side ofihe clapper,
which deadened every second toll. I
complied, and mounting into the belfrey,
crept as usual into the bell, where I began
to cut away. The hat had been tied on
in some more complicated manner than
|psual, and I was perhaps three or four
minutes in getting it off; during which
time my companion below was hastily
called away, by a message from his sweet
heart I believe, but this is not material to
my story. The person who called him
was a brother of the club who, knowing
that the time had come for ringing for ser
vice, and not thinkiug thafany one was
•above, began to pull. At this "moment I
was just getting out, when I felt the bell
moving, I guessed the reason at once—it
in jumping down, and throwing myself on
the Hat of my back under the bell.
The room "in which it was, was little
more than sufficient to contain it, the bot
tom of the bell coming within a couple of
feet of the floor of lath. At that time I
certainly was not so bulky as I am now;
but as I lay it was certainly within an inch
of my face. I had not laid myself down
a second, when the ringing began.—It was
a dreadful situation. Over me swung an
immense mass of metal; one touch of
which would have crushed me to pieces;
the floor under nie was principally com
posed of crazy laths, and if they gave way,
I was precipitated to the distance of about
fifty feet upon a loft, which would in all
probability, have sunk under the impulse
of my fall, and sent me to be dashed to
atoms upon the marble floor of the chan
cel, an hundred feet below. I remember
ed (for fear is quick in recollection) how
a common clock-wright, about a month
before, had fallen, and bursting through
the floors of the steeple driven in the ceil
ings of the porch, and even broken into
the marble tombstone of a bishop who
slept beneath. This was my first terror,
but tho ringing had not continued a minute,
before a more awful and immediate dread
came on me. The deafening sound of
the bell smote into my ears with a thun
der which made me fear their drums
would crack.—There was not a fibre of
my body it did not thrill through : It en
tered my very soul ; thought and reflec
tion were almost utterly banished ; I only
retained the sensation of agonizing terror.
Every moment I saw flic bell sweep with
in an inch of my face; and my eyes, I
could not close them, though to look at
the object was bitter as death—followed
it instinctively in its oscillating progress
until it came back again. It was in vain,
I said to myself, that it could come no
nearer at any future swing than it did at
first; every time it descended, I endea
vored to shrink into the very floor to avoid
boing buried under the down sweeping
mass ; and then reflecting on the danger
of pressing too weightily on my frail sup
port, would cower up again as far as I
dared.
At first my fears were mere matter of
fact. I was afraid thopullics above would
give way, and let the bell plunge on me
At another time, the possibility of tho
clapper being shot out in some sweep,
and dashing through my body, as I had
seen a ramrod glide through a door, flitted
across my mind. The dread also, as I
have already mentioned, of the crazy floor
tormented me, but these soon gave way
to fears neft more unfounded, but more
visionary, and of course more tremendous.
The roaring of the bell confused my in
tellect, and my fancy soon began to teem
with all sort of strange and terrifying ideas.
The bell pealing above, and opening its
jaws with a hideous clamout,seemed to me
at one time a ravening monster raging to
devour me; at another, a whirlpool ready
to suck me into its bellowing abyss. As
I gazed on it, it assumed ail shapes ; it was
a flying eagle, or rather a rock of the
Arabian story tellers, clapping its wings
and screaming over me. As I looked
upwards into it, it would appear some
times to lengthen into indefinite extent or
to be twisted at the end into the spiral
folds of the tail of a flying dragon. Nor
was the flaming breath, or fiery gl nee of
that fabled animal, wanting to complete
the picture. My eyes inflamed, blood
shot, and glaring, invested the supposed
monster with a full proportion of unholy
light.
It would be endless were I to merely
hint at all the fancies that possessed my
mind. Every object that was hideous and
roaring presented itself to my imagination.
often thought that I was in a hurricane
at sea, and that the vessel in which I was
embarked tossed under me with the most
furious vehemence. The air, set in mo-
tiuu by the swinging of the bell, blew over
me, nearly with the violence, and more
than the thunder of a tempest ; and the
floor seemed to reel under me, as under a
drunken man. But the most awful of all
tho ideas that seized on me were drawn
from the supernatural. In the vast cav
ern of the bell hideous faces appeared,
and glared down on me with terrifying
frowns, or with a grinning mockery, still
more appalling. At last, the devil him
self, accoutred,as in the common descrip
tion ofihe evil spirit, with hoof, horn and
tail, and eyes of infernal lustre, made his
appearance, and called on me to curse
God and worship him, who was powerful
to save me. This dread suggestion he
uttered with the full toned clangour of the
bell. I had him within an inch of me,
and I thought on the fate of the Santon
Barsisa. Strenuously aud desperately I
defied him, and bade him begone. Rea
son, then, for a moment resumed her sway,
but it was only to fill me with fresh ter
ror, just as the lightning dispels the gloom
that surrounds the benighted mariner, but
to show him that his vessel is driven on a
rock, where she must inevitably be dashed
to pieces. I found I was becoming deli
rious, and trembled lest reason should de
sert me. This is at all times an agonizing
thought, but it smote me then with ten
fold agony. I feared lest, when utterly
deprived of my senses, I should rise, to
do which I was every moment tempted by
that strange feeling which calls on man,
whose head is dizzy from standing on the
battlement of a lofty castle, to precipitate
himself from it, and then death would be
instant and tremendous. When I thought
of this, I became desperate. I caught the
floor with a grasp which drove the blood
from my nails ; and I yelled with the cry
of despair. I called for help, I prayed,
I shouted, but all the efforts of my voice
were, of course, drowned in the bell. As
it passed over my mouth, it occasionally
echoed my cries, which mixed not with its
own sound, but preserved their distinct
character.—Perhaps this was but fancy.
To me, I know, they then sounded as if
they were the shouting, howling, or lan
guage of the fiends with which my itna-
feelings; but 1 am not. Many a scene of
dread have I since passed through, but
they are nothing to the self-inflicted ter
rors of this half hour. The Ancientshave
doomed one of the damned, in their Tar
tarus, to lie under a rock, which every
moment seems to be descending to anni
hilate him—and an awful punishment it
would be. But if to this yoa add a clam
our as loud as if ten thousand furies were
howling at you—a deafening uproar ban
ishing reason, and dri* ing yon to madness,
you must allow that the bitterness of the
pang was rendered more terrible. There
is no man, firm as his nerves may be, who
could retain his couiagc in this situation.
In twenty minutes the ringing was
done. Half-of that time passed over me
A black servant, not a hundred miles
from St. Andrews, Holborn, being exam
ined in the church catechism, by the min
ister of the parish, was asked, ‘ What are
you made of, Jack V he said, 4 Of mud,
massa.’ On being told he sh^ult^say, of
dust, hfe refused ; 4 No massa, it won i do,
no stick togedder.’
Irishman and light Guinea.—An irish
man one day found a light guinea, which
he was obliged to sell for eighteen^..shil
lings. Next day he saw another guinea
lying in the streets. 44 No, no,” says he,
“ I’ll have nothing to do with you: I lost
three shillings by your brother yester
day.”
without power of computation, the other | jyj ons i e ur Ude, the cook, is likely to
half appeared an age. When it ceased, ‘ r ; va j NIr. Rogers in his good sayings. His
I became gradually mure quiet, but a new
fear retained me. I knew that five min
utes would elapse without ringing, but at
the end of that short time, the bell would
be rung a second time, for five minutes
more. I could not calculale time. A
minute and an hour were of equal duration.
I feared to rise, least the five minutes
should have elapsed, and the ringing
be again commenced, in which ease I
should be crushed, before T could escape,
against the walls or frame work of the bell.
I therefore still continued to be down
cautiously shifting myself, however with
a careful gliding so that my eves no lon
ger looked into the hollow. This was of
itself a considerable relief. The cessa
tion of the noise had, in a great measure,
the effect of stupifying me, for mv atten
tion, being no longer occupied by the-chi-
meras I had conjured up, began to flag.—
All that now distressed me was the con
stant expectation of the second ringing,
for which, however I settled myself with
a kind of a stupid resolution. I closed
my eyes, and clenched my teeth as firmly
as if they had been screwed in a vice.—
At last the dreadful moment came, and
the first swing of the hell extorted a groan
from me, as they say the most resolute
victim screams at the sight of the rack, to
which ho is for a second time destined.—
After this, however, I lay silent and leth-
argtic, without a thought. Wraped in
the defensive armour of stupidity, I defi
ed the bell and its intonations. When it
ceased, I was roused a little by the hope
of escape. I did not however decide on
this step hastily, but putting out my hand
with the utmost caution, I touched the
rim. Though the ringing had ceased, it
still was tremulous from the sound, and
shook under m}' hand, which instantly re
coiled as from an electric jar. A quar
ter of an hour probably elapsed before I
again dared to make the experiment and
then I found it at rest. I determined to
lose no time, fearing that I might have
lain then already too long, and that the
bell for eveningservice would catch me.—
This dread stimulated me, and I slipped
out with the utmost rapidity, and arose. I
stood, I suppose, for a minute, looking
with silly wonder on thp place of my im
prisonment penetrated with joy at escap
ing, but then rushed down the stonv and
irregular stair with the velocity of light
ning, and arrived in the bellringing room.
This was the last act I had power to ac
complish. I leant against the wall mo
tionless and derived of thought, in which
posture my companions found me when
in the course of a couple of hours, they re
turned to their occupations.
They were shocked, as well they might
at the figure before them. The wind of
the bell had excoriated my face, and mv
dim and stupified eyes were fixed with a
lack-lnstre gaze in mv raw eye-lids. Mv
hands were torn and bleeding, my hair
dishevelled and my clothes tattered.—
They spoke to me but I gave no answer.
They shook me but I remained insensible
They then became alarmed and hastened
to remove me. He who had first gone
up with me in the forenoon met them as
they carried me through the church-yard,
and through him, who was shocked at hav
ing in some measure, occasioned the ac
cident, the cause of my misfortune was
discovered. I was put to bed at home,
and remained for three days delirious but
gradually rcovered mv senses. You may
bp sure the beH formed a prominent topic
of my ravings, and if I heard a peal, they
were instamlvjincreased to the utmost vio
lence. Even when the delirium abated,
my sleep was continually disturbed by the
imagined ringings, and my dreams were
haunted by the fancies which almost mad
dened me while in the steeple. My
friend removed me to a house in the
country, which •’•as sufficiently distant from
any place of worship, to save me from the
apprehensions of hearing the church go
ing bell ; for what Alexander Selkirk, in
Cowper’s poem, complained of as a mis
fortune, was then to me as a blessing.—
Here I recovered ; bur, even long after
recovery, if a gale wafted the notes of a
peal towards me, I started with nervous
apprehension. I felt a Mahometan hatred
to all the bell tribe, and envied the sub
jects of the Commander of the Faithful
the sonorous voice of their Muezzin.—
Time cured this, as it does the most of
our follies ; but even at the present day, if
by chance my nerves be unstrung, some
particular tones of the Cathedral bell
have power to surprise me into a momen
tary start.
lamentation on the loss of his late Royal
Highness the Duke of York is worthy of
being preserved. 44 Oh, moil Prince!
he exclaimed) my kind master ! He was
the best hearted of men ! Oh, raon
Prince ! He shall miss me very much
where he has gone to !”—Lit. Gaz.
Attorneys and Physicians.—As two of
these gentlemen were sitting together in a
public house, the doctor began to reproach
the attorney with the number of strange
words which the law indulges in. viz.—
“ Habeas Corpus,” 44 fieri facias,” &c.
and amongst others, asked what was meant
by the words “ Docking an entail.”—
“ Why, doctor,” replied the attorney “ it
is doing what you will not do with your
patients—it is suffering a recovery.”
An Irishman left “sweet Ireland” in
the Revolutionary war, to chastise the re
bel Yankc-s, and being on a scouting
party, he lost his way, and after travel
ling a number of days, he became lost in a
swamp, just at evening.—He had never
heard Bullfrogs in Ireland ; and now their
strange voices fell upon his ear ominously.
It was dark, but the lightning bug occa
sionally showed her lamp, and he thought
that he was surrounded by tho avenging
spirits of dead Yalcnees spitting fire.—He
clasped a tree and called on St. Patrick
all night.—In tho morning he found his
way to a habitation, and related his story
—“ Oh,” savs lie, “ I am safe at last—I
have been all night in the power of crai-
chers caicVd Yankee Spirits.— I held tight
to a tree. One would cry out kailVim !
kailVim! and if it had not been for one
auld gentleman close by, with a glum
voice they would have Icaill'd me.—He
now and then would say, Moderation!
Moderation ! and to this auld gentleman,
who cried out Moderation! I owe my
life.”—[Pittsfield Argus.
Ingenious Defence.—Atibe late Lime
rick Assizes, a man of the name of Pat
rick Mograth was tried for stealing tho
great coat of the prosecutor. After this
fact had been proved, the learned Judge
(Mr. Sergeant Lefroy) called on him for
his defence, when the prisoner addiessed
the Court: “ My Lord, he saw what a
bad wav I was in for clothes, being almost
naked, and he said, 4 I would advise you,
Pat, the first coat or blanket you get, to
throw it about your shoulders ;’ I did so,
my Lord, and now he is prosecuting me
for following his own bad advice, and this
is my defence, pleaso your Reverence’s
Lordship.”—The Court was convulsed
with laughter.—Galway Independent.
Anecdote of Dr. Friend.—The doctor,
on coming home highly primed from a
dinner party, was called out to see a lady
taken dangerously ill. 44 So (said the doc
tor, to his man) by Jove, I ca’nt go at all!
—If I do, you must lead me.” He was
led to the room, and having got fast hold
of a bedpost with one hand for a balance,
with the cher be seized the ladv’s wrist ;
but alas ! all attempts to note the pulsa
tions were vain, and he could only mumble
out. “ Drunk, by Jove ! drunk !” “ Ah,
madam !” cried the Abigail, as soon as the
physician bad staggered out, “ what a
wonderful man ! how soon he discovered
what was the matter with you !”
Singular and Plura.l.—The Rev. J.
L. Garratl was met, a few years ago, by
a young ecclesiastic of Oxford University,
accompanied by a few "pupils under his
care, who very jocosely exclaimed, e ‘ Sir,
we have had a dispute in our school about
the difference of the terms phenomenon
and phenomena ; what is your opinion of
the difference ?” The question excited
all the risible faculties of the philosopher,
but when sufficiently recovered, he wrote
as follows :
When one bright scholar puts the fool’s cep ou
He makes himself a real phenomenon ;
If others join him, and like asses bray,
They all together make phenomena.
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July 9 17
Quick Pusincss.—It is reported of a
physician in Laurens countv, Geo., that
about three weeks ago he began to court
a lady on Friday evening, took out license
on Saturday, and married her on Sunday.
May his practice always be as successful.
Macon Tel.. 6th inst.
A lady who has fouud the following re
medy for the prevention of bed bugs,
wishes to make it public.—After cleansing
the bedstead thoroughly, rub it over with
hog’s lard. The lard should be rubbed on
with a woollen cloth. Bugs will not infest
such a bedstead for a whole season.
[ Cincinnati Gaz,
A Disagreeable Hypothesis.
Two persons were one day engaged in
an argument. 44 Suppose,” said one of
them, 44 that you owe me two thousand
crowns.” 44 1 wish,” replied the other,
that you would suppose some other hypo
thesis.”
Irish Malediction.—An Irishman speak
ing with great bitterness against an op
pressive landlord of his, wished that he
might live to see his children fatherless.
American Farmer.
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merican Parmer, Baltimore”—and whether the
money be received or not, the paper will be for
warded immediately, and the actual rccept of
each number of the volume will be guaranteed
by jhe editor.
The American Farmer is pubiished weekly by
J. S. Skinner, postmaster, of Baltimore, printed
cn fine paper the size of ordinary newspaper, acted by contaminating example abroad. Pa:
folded so as to make 8 pages ; about one half, or ticularattcntion will be paid to domestic education.
four pages devoted to practical agriculture; the or that which emanates from parental and family
remainder to internal improvements, rural and influence ; nor shall we neglect personal :dv:o
rS.OSPSGT7JS.
T HE spirit of inquiry, which has efiate yc„ :
extended to every thing connected wi:
human improvement, has been directed with p c .
culiar earnestness to the subject of cducatior
In our own country, the basis of whose insiitu
tions is felt to be intelligence and virtue, this topi-
has been regarded as one of no ordinary interey
and has excited a zeal and an activity worthy ,/
its importance. By judicious endeavors to ad- •
the character of instruction to the progress'-'
requirements of the public mind, much hasbet-
| done to continue and accelerate the career c'
! improvement. These very efforts, however, nc,'
| this success, have produced the conviction that
much remains to be done.
! A periodical work, devoted exclusively to cd-.
| cation, would seem likely to Ijc of peculiar scr
j vice at the present day, when an interest in th i;
i subject is so deeply aud extensively felt. At n-
period have opportunity and disposition for t; •
extensive interchange and diffusion of thou--!-
been so favorably combined. Science and Liter
ature have their respective publications, tssuirr
at regular intervals from the press, and rontr;
buting incalculably to (he dissemination ofknoir
ledge and of taste. But education, a subject of
the highest practical importance to every schorl
every family, and every individual in ’the roir,-
munity, remains unprovided with one of tbosr
popular and useful vehicles of information. A
minute detail of the advantages which may i, c
expected to result from a pciiodical work sue!
as is now proposed, we think unnecessary Wit!
the success of other publications cf the same
class before us, wc feel abundant encouragement
to proceed in oitr undertaking.
A leading object of the Journal n i l be to fur.
nish a record of facts, embi acing u hatever infer
mation the most diligent inquiry can procure
regarding the pas: and present state of education
in the United States, and in foreign countries.
opportunity will thus Ic afforded fur a fair com-
parison cf the merits of various systems of in
struction. 'i lie results of actual experiment wi',',
be presented; and the causes cf failure, as will
as of success, may thus be satisfactorily trarec,
aud be made to suggest valuable improvement;.
The conductors of the Joup.vat. w ill make it
their constant endeavor to rid in diffusing ruler.--
erf raid liberal ticics of education. Nothing, i:
seems to us, has more inffuervao retarding"the
pwgrow itrrfrrcrr. iurnt in the science of instrir
tion, than narrow and impartial views of what
education should be expected to produce. latch
lectual attain meals have been too exclusively tic
object of attention. It is too common a thing t.>
cons der a man weii educated, if he has made a
proper use of the facilities for the acquisition of
learning; though the result may have been ob
tained atthe expense of his health, and with much
neglect of that moral erdture, which is the surest
foundation of happiness. In many plans of edi:
cation, which are in other respects excellent, the
fact seems to have been overlooked that man p.v-
sesses an animal, arid a moral, as well as an in
tellectual constitution. Hence the fatal neglect
ol the requisite provisions for the development
of the corporeal system, the confirmation and
improvement of health, the only foundation cf
mental as well as bodily power. The moral de
partment of education lias too commonly been
restricted to an occasional word of parental ap
probation or reproof; or, at the best, to efforts
limited by the sphere of domestic life. The natu
ral consequence of the restrictions thus unjustly
laid on education, is, that we often find, in the
same individual a learned Lead, but a debilitated
body, and a neglected heart. Education should,
we think, be regarded as the means of fitting man
for the discharge of alt his duties : it should pro
duce vigorous and hardy bodies, trained to pow
erful action, and inured to privation and fatigue,
hearts formed to all that is pure ami noble in
moral principle ; and minds prepared for effi
cient exertion in whatever may be their depart-
meat in the great business of accomplishing the
purposes of human existence. Under these im
pressions, we shall give to physical education that
proportion of our attention which seems due to
its importance. Moral education wc sliali consi
der as embracing whatever is to form the ha bin
The influence of ti-
amplt in the sphere of daily intercourse, we re
gard as the most powerful instrument in the for
mation of moral habits In no light do wc con
template the progress of education with mart
satisfaction, than when we view it as elevating
and purifying the gieat body of the community,
and thus affordirgto the attentive and rcflec'i.ic
parent, the pleasing assurance, that his efforts
with his children at home, will not be counter-
cted by contaminating
A dandy once observed he had put a
plate of brass on his boots to keep him
upright. Well balanced, by Jove, said
a bye-stander, brass at both ends.
Politics.—The Oracle of Apollo at
Delphos being asked why Jupiter should
be chief of the Gods, since Mars was the
best soldier, made this answer—' 44 Mars is
valiant, but Jupiter is wise.”
A magistrate asked a negro if he could
read— 4 Yes massa, little,’ said he. ‘Do
you ever use tiie bible ?’ inquired the jus
tice ; 4 Yes, massa, I ’trap my razor on it,’
domestic economy, selections for house-keepers
and female readers and natural history and ru
ral spots. A minute index and title page to the
whole volume is published, and forwarded with
the last number of eachvolume. Asingle number
u-ill be sent to any one who may desire to see a
specimen of the Publication.
EFTe all editors who will give the above one
or two insertions, we shall feel much indebted,
and wHl gladly reciprocate their kindness.
P. S. The American Farmer is circulated thro’
every state and territory, and is written for by
many of the most distinguished practical farmers
in the Union.
Office of American Farmer.
MENDENHALL’S
Paten} Improved Grist Mills.
T HE undersigned, living in Augusta, being
appointed, by Monfort S. Street, and John
VVilson, Assignees of Moses Mendenhall, sole
Agent, in future, for selling in Georgia the above
important and valuable improvement in the
Grist Mill, informs the Public that he is ready to
dispose of the same to those who may want only
an individual right, or to those who may wish to
purchase for counties. Those who prefer seeinr
specimens before they purchase, can be satisfied
at my house or can see several now in operation
in this neighborhood. r
Individual Rights §25.
M.y.SS B -
nubiChTv ^edgevtile Journal will please to
for two month san<i send the
lpayrS e ° ffiCe0f the Geor fP a Courier for
t persi
tion, or that which consists in the voluntary for
mation of individual character.
The subject of female education is one which
was deemed unspeakably important. We have
no hesitation in expressing our conviction that it
has not yet received the consideration which it
merits. W hatever concerns the culture of tbs
female mind, extends ultimately to the formation
of all minds, at that early and snsceptible period
when maternal influence is forming the impres
sions which eventually terminate in mental and
moral habits. But the theme is too full of impor
tant and interesting topics to admit of discussion
in a prospectus. There is no department of our
labours, from which we anticipate a higher grati
fication,. than onr endeavors to aid the instruc
tion of the female sex.
Our efforts shall be directed chiefly to earl'y
and elementary education, because it is, in our
view, more important than that of any other pe
riod or department. At the same time, we shah
not omit the higher branches of science and lit
erature, nor the training preparatory to profes
sional pursuits. In particular branches of in
struction, we have no favorite theories to obtrude
To what is of oid standing, we have no hostility
arising merely from its being old. Novelty we
shall always regard as an indifferent circum
stance, rather than a recommendation. But ex
planatory, practical instruction, under whatever
name it may appear, we shall be happy all times
to aid with our bestexertions.
As our pages are to be devoted exclusively to
the cause of education-throughout our country,
an earnest and cordial invitation is given to per
sons in every quarter, who take an interest in
our labours, to assist us by the communication of
useful and interesting matters,
August 2 62
edge cut off