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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. NO. 66 LOMBARD-STREET—“PHILADELPHIA, For publishing a Literary Journal to be called THE EMBELLISHED WITH Splendid, Quarto Engravings. T HIS work is intended as an agreeable and instructive companion for the parlour, and an appropriate attendant at the Toilet—to be is sued every Wednesday, commencing with the first Wednesday in July next. No exertion will be spared to reader “THE SOUVENIR,” in all respects worthy the patron age of the public, both as a cheap a®d elegant emporium of useful and interesting information, and a valuable repository of choice specimens of Miscellaneous literature. Strict attention will be bestowed on the moral tendency of “ THE SOUVENIR,” and a constant watchfulness pre served over the interests of virtue. A portion of the contents will be as follows : 1. Tales, original and selected from the best American and Fo.eign publications; Biographi cal Sketches of distinguished persons, male and female, particularly the latter; Anecdotes, Bon Mots, Sgc. The original matter necessary for this department of our paper will be furnish ed by individuals who are advantageously known to the public through the medium of thei* Lite rary productions; besides the numerous corres pondents who may be expected to contribute. * 2. Miscellany.—Interesting items of intelli gence, foreign aud domestic occurrences, deaths, marriages, he. 3. Engravings.—The first number of every month will be embellished with a splendid quarto Copper Plate Engraving, fitted to the size of the work among which will be the following. Alhambra, Ancient Pal-Man. Burning Fountain, one of the seven wonders of Dauphinv. Grotto of Osellcs. Temple of Pluto. Pont Du Gard, near Nisnies. Languedoc, Saussure's ascent o- Mont Blanc. iCascade near Oysans, Dauphiuy. Desert of the Grand Chartreuse. East Prospect of Gi ant’s Causeway. Castle of Segovia. Lake of Killarney from ace of the Moorish Kings in Spain. View of the permanent Bridge over the Schuyl kill. .Etna, from the Gardens of the Prince of Bisca- ria. View of St. Pctcrsburgh Arch Street Ferry, Phil adelphia. Paraclete, founded by Abelard. Giant’s Causeway and Bridge of Bridon. State Prison, Auburn,' New York. j Tynwald Hill, Isle of Kenmure Park Each Subscriber will thus be furnished yearly with 13 superior Copperplate Engravings, the price of which if purchased singly would more than double the annual cost of the entire work. 4. The Toilet.—In addition to the usual Litera ry matter contained in similar publications, the Proprietor has completed an arrangement by which he will be enabled to furnish correct de scriptions ofihe prevailing fashions, both foreign and domestic, illustrated with elegant engra vings, besides the regular series, cnce in each quarter; places of fashionable resort; sketches cf life, manners, Sic. Sic. at the earliest possible period, and from the most authentic sources. 5. Editor’s department; Notices of passing events: The Drama , New Publications; Criti cisms ; Reviews. Sic. Sic. TO RENT, T HAT valuable Establishment, known a,?*-. Mansion House, in the City of Augn s J. situated on Green-street, and at present occupj^ by Mr. M’Kccn. The accommodations are cj tensive and good. The situation is consider^ one of the most eligible for a Public House i- the city. Possession given on the 1st of October next. For terms apply at the Branch Bank' Augusta. June 7 10 tf Thomas B. Wait & Son, BOSTON, Publish monthly, a Periodical ITork entitled JOURNAL OF EDUCATION. TTIE SOUVENIR” will be published every Wednesday morning, on extra-medium fine white paper, printed with new and elegant type, and decorated, in addition to the cngrav’ngs alluded to above, with many appropriate embellishments. Each No. will comprise eight pages, stitched and expressly adapted for binding. At the expiration of eveiy year, or the close of a volume, subscri bers will be furnished gratis with a general index of tho contents, and a handsomely engraved ti tle page. Price cf subscription S2 20 per annum paya ble in advance. Post Masters and others out of the city, procuring five subscribers and becoming responsible forNhe payment will be entitled to a sixth copy gratis. The Copper-Plate embellishments will be su perintended by the Publisher, and the typo graphical part of this work will be under the ex clusive direction of Messrs. Atkinson fc Alexan der, who have been so long known to the public as able and enterprising artizar.s, that it is entire ly unnecessary to say that so far as they are con cerned, there can he no doubt as to the elegance of its execution; end with regard to his own share of the arrangements, the Publisher Linns himself, in case he should fail to perform anv es sential part of his undertaking to refund the price of subscription. Agents will shortly be appointed in different parts of the United States, until which time sub scriptions will be received by PHILIP PRICE, Jr. No. C6 Lombard street, Philadelphia, to whom all orders must be addressed, post paid.—And al so by Judah Dobson, 108 Chesnut street: at the Office of the Saturday Evening Pest, No. 112 Chesnut street, two doors below the Fost-Officc. 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. W E wish every friend of this journal should understand, and that they would have the kindness to make it known, that to any one who will procure four subscribers and remit on their account §20, wc will send a fifth copy of the American Farmer without charge,—or,"any' one who will procure five subseribers, will be allowed to retain §5 on his remitting the remain. §20. We beg also to repeat, that all which is necessary to be done by any one, wishing to sub- j and stamp the character, scribe is to inclose a five dollar note by mail, at the risk of, and addressed to “the editor of the A- 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