We come next to the consideration of the physiological principles, upon which the success of the nasal operation depends. By a law common to all animated bodies, every injury done to them gives rise to certain processes, whose ultimate tendency is to repair damage, and compensate loss. These processes are according to the nature of the subject, or the injury done to it, either simple and effectual, or violent and tedious, sometimes to a degree incompatible with the continuance of life. They are in general more successful, in proportion as the subject is lower in the scale of animation. Thus the vegetable kingdom is able to support much more severe injuries than the animal. Its powers in this respect are exemplified in the curious experiment, in which a tree is made to flourish, when entirely cut up from its roots, by first inarching, or incorporating its branches with two others, one on each side of it. They are also matters of every day experience in the common operations of grafting, girdling, &c. The lower orders of animals again, are much superior to the higher in this particular. Even those animals, which resemble man so much in their organization that they have been placed in the same zoological class, excel him in the power of supporting injuries, when unassisted by art. These compensating or defensive operations of nature, again, are more successful in proportion to the simplicity of the injury. One of the most simple is of course the mere solution of continuity, such as happens in wounds made with a clean and sharp instrument. Instinct teaches brute animals to remove the blood from wounds of this kind and keep the edges in as close contact as possible by licking them; and observation led the ancient surgeons to a similar process. They washed the wound and retained it carefully closed till nature had accomplished the adhesion, and this they termed the " union by the first intention." In cases where the edges, on account of their lacerated, or contused state, or from considerable loss of substance, cannot be placed in exact contact the healing process is different. A number of minute fleshy bodies, or, as they are now called, granulations, sprout from every part of the surface of the wound, which increasing and uniting, fill up the spaces between its edges. The original amount of space is also much diminished by the tendency of those granulations to contract after they have united with each other, and thus draw together the divided parts from which they originate. This may serve as a sketch of the manner in which "union by the second intention" is accomplished. The false philosophy of the middle ages, whose uniform tendency was to make men think on all subjects and act on all occasions as absurdly as possible, induced the surgeons of those days to obstruct the simple adhesion of wounds by ointments and balsams, and compel nature to have recourse to her dernier resort of granulation. Of the restoration of the proper practice in such cases we have spoken above; of the extent of the

improvements in surgery which have result- fifteen minutes. It was painful during that
ed from it, it is unnecessary to say more time, but the patient seems never to have
than that since surgeons began to content suffered any thing of consequence, after
themselves with being the servants and in- the dressings were applied, or during the
terpreters of nature, their art has been progress of the cure.
The reader will per-
continually and rapidly advancing.
ceive that the new parts, after this pro-
The application of these physiological cess, were expected to unite with the old
principles to the restoration of deficient by simple adhesion, while the wound in the
parts, will be seen in the account of Mr forehead, was of necessity left to be healed
Carpue's cases, from which we shall detain by the second intention.
The dressings
the reader only by a remark on the endur- were not removed till the third day. The
ing nature of medical prejudices. Although result we shall give in our author's own
two centuries have elapsed since the knowl- words.
edge of the doctrine of simple adhesion
was restored, and though it is one which
we should imagine the experience of every
child, who puts his wounded finger into his
mouth, would be sufficient to teach him; yet
the domestic use of irritating applications is
still by no means unfrequent, and there are
few probably of our readers, who have not
known instances in which Riga balsam has
obtained the credit of promoting a result
which in reality it had only retarded.

On the third day I took off the dressings. It will be supposed, that I felt exceedingly anxious on this occasion, for though I had every reason to expect adhesion, it was possible that it had not taken place. satisfaction to hear the officer, before alluded to, The parts however adhered; and I had the high exclaim, from the foot of the bed, "My G-d, there is a nose!" Adhesion, agreeably with my most sanguine hopes, had taken place in every part; and the nose was of the same colour with the face. Meantime it was perfectly flat, and rose and fell with every inspiration and expiration.

This flatness was afterwards remedied by the formation of granulations within the nose. Every thing went on well till the seventh day, when the patient exercised his mouth so freely upon a favourite dish, as to endanger the loss of the organ, which he had taken such pains to acquire. The motion of his lips tore asunder small parts of the newly united surfaces. The acci dent, however, proved trifling. The following day he nearly fainted, from his room having been kept too warm-" the face lost its colour, and the nose with it," but both were revivified by proper ventilation. On the ninth day, the nose became dropsical, and swelled to an alarming size, but this afterwards gradually disappeared. Some months after, it was beautified by some additional dissection. The scar in the forehead was reduced, by the contraction of the granulations, to an inconsiderable extent. Our author adds, in conclusion, that the nose was improving every day, and if his annexed plate is a correct representation, we must admit, that it was already very respectable.

It is to the credit of the operation that| the subject in neither of the following instances was the most favorable. The first was an officer in his Britannic Majesty's army. The loss had been caused by the injudicious use, or more properly, abuse of mercury, which had been exhibited for the cure of an affection of the liver. He had lost "the whole front of the nose, a small portion of the alæ, or sides of the nostrils, excepted. The nasal bones were entire. Mr Carpue of course had some hesitation at first about performing the operation in a case of this kind; but after satisfying himself, by a few incisions, about the remaining sides, that the parts were then tolerably healthy, he made the necessary preparations, and on the 23d of October, 1814, performed the operation. We shall abridge his account of it, omitting those details, which are interesting only to the professional reader. A model of the intended nose was first made with a thin sheet of wax. This, after being flattened, was applied to the forehead of the patient, and the outline drawn round it on the skin with red paint. The figure thus described, nearly resembled, The second operation was performed at as appears by an annexed plate, that of the the request of his Royal Highness, the ace of spades on a playing-card, turned Prince Regent, upon an officer who had upside down, the point, or apex, of the fig-lost a part of his cheek and nose, as well ure being placed between the eyes. The as an arm, at the battle of Albuera, in portion of skin, thus marked out, was then Spain, while rescuing one of the colours of dissected off from the forehead, leaving on- his regiment from the enemy. It differed ly a small slip of it still attached at the somewhat from the former in particulars, root of the nose. It was then twisted which it is not necessary to notice in a round, folded down, and its edges inserted work of this kind. Considerable difficulty into incisions previously made at the bot- arose from the loss of substance from the tom and on each side of the remains of the cheek, but this was surmounted, and the former nose, and confined in that position. final result appears to have been satisfacThe twist was necessary in order that the tory. surface of the skin, which had been external in its natural situation on the forehead, should still continue so in its new location. The nostrils were distended with lint, and the edges of the wound in the forehead brought as near as possible together, by strips of sticking plaster. The whole operation, excepting the application of some bandages, &c. was completed in exactly

We think Mr Carpue entitled to much credit for his enterprise in attempting, and diligence and zeal in conducting to a successful termination, these singular operations. It is not likely that they will ever be very common in civilized Europe or America, but as serving to illustrate the extent of the compensating powers of nature, they may, notwithstanding, be as use

Note. Since the above was written the nasal operation has been successfully performed by Dr S. Hurd of Charlestown, Massachusetts.

Sayings and Doings. A Series of Sketches from Life. Philadelphia, 1824. 2 vols.

12mo.

ful in a practical, as they are curious in a gyman, the knavish attorney, the trusted | it is difficult for us to conceive of a man's "friend of the family," in his intercourse being forever unfortunate in all situations, physiological point of view. with the son, encourages the attachment, without suspecting him of some want of and even urges him to attempt an elope- foresight, or prudence, or decision; and it ment; whilst in his letters to the father, is next to impossible for an author so to he does all in his power to fan the prejudi- direct the conduct of his hero, that he shall ces, the latter had conceived against the always be passing from vexation to vexaconnexion, most grossly misrepresenting tion, from disappointment to disappointment, the clergyman, as selfish and designing, and without betraying in that conduct, traits his daughter as gross and vulgar. Divers of character which tend to diminish our reand heart-rending are the crosses and dis- spect for the hero himself; and of course, appointments thus thrown in the way of our our sympathy in his fate. lovers, by the pride aud passion of one father, and the delicacy of the other. It happens, however, that the nobleman accidentally becomes acquainted with the clergyman and his daughter-he, meanwhile, being unknown to them. He finds that his son is not so very wrong in his judgment, and opens his eyes to the falsehoods of the attorney. This leads to proper investigations-all the knavery of this smooth, insinuating friend of the family is brought to light; and probatum est, that "All is not gold, which glitters."

THIS work consists of four different tales,
each intended as a sort of practical commen-
tary on some common proverb. Hence the
name of the book.
"Sayings" are attempt
ed to be illustrated by "doings,"-proverbs
by experience,—"wise saws" by "modern
instances." We do not think this mode of
choosing a text to be explained, or a cer-
tain point to be proved, the best calculated
in the world, for a free, unshackled display
of the genius of a writer of novels and
tales. The author before us, however, has
very wisely taken care not to subject him-
self to much restraint by his plan. He
does not obtrude his proverb on us in the
course of the narrative, but goes on to tell
his story in a most amusing manner, and
when he has done, he gives us, in the last
line or sentence, some good old saw, print-
ed in small capitals, which the reader
thereby perceives to be the end and moral of
what he has been reading. Without the
concluding paragraph of each tale, and the
information given in the general preface of
the book, it might not, perhaps, have been
easy to discover that the author's plan was
such as it is:-and this we consider so much
in his praise.

The book terminates with "Martha, the Gypsey," a very short, but well narrated tale of superstition. We should hardly think of resorting to fictions of this sort, which do not even pretend to describe the ordinary and natural course of human events, for the purpose of illustrating those common maxims, which are supposed to be the result of long observation of the world, as actually, and in matter of fact it exists. Nor do we see very distinctly how the adventures or achievements of Martha, the Gypsey, prove the truth of the maxim, "SeeThe next story is called "Merton," ing is believing." The author assures us which is the longest, and we suspect was he received this information from an eyeconsidered by the author, his best effort. witness of the fact. That friend might «"Twixt cup and lip there is many a slip," | have maintained that “Seeing is believing," is the text to be enforced. The author's-but the author and his readers may with spirited manner of writing is perhaps more equal propriety allege that "hearing and fully displayed here, than in any one of his reading of a fact, is not seeing it." We do tales. We are not sure, however, that not, however, mean to condemn tales of some more fastidious readers, will not be this sort. They have their interest; if reminded of another of the wise saws, about well conceived and powerfully told, they which he has just read, viz. “that too much must have their interest. We may reason of a good thing is good for nothing." There with ourselves about their improbability, is a little, little too much of the same sort and convince ourselves by dint of argument, of incidents. Merton, the hero, is ever and that, in point of fact, the affairs of this world anon on the point of tasting the extreme are not influenced by beings of another of happiness,-when the cup slips, he is state, or by those of our own state endowed precipitated to the depths of misery; from with different powers from the rest of us; which again he is no less unexpectedly re- yet that such things may be that they lieved. At one moment he is half married are possible-that we see nothing to preto the girl of his heart,-who had consent-vent their happening-this will be enough ed to run away with him,-when the cere- to secure an interest for tales of this sort, mony is interrupted by the unlucky arrival of the mother of the runaway lady, and a posse of relatives; then, he is within an ace of being hanged for murder, and the rope is tied about his neck, when Jack Ketch is disappointed of the rest of his work, by a Toal, The next story, called "The Friend of person's galloping up to the foot of the galthe hon amily," is, in its structure and charac- lows, who turns out to be the very individters, ritinmuch more in the common, not to say ual suspected to be murdered. Now we hackuse eyed, style of novel writing, than the attend our hero to Newgate for debt;-and last DIW entioned. We do not know, however, presently we are with him in the supposed he mass of novel readers will not con- possession of seven thousand a year, and sider s yeit as interesting as any in the book. driving to Paris in his own coach and four; A pred apud nobleman, with his amiable son, and then again it is discovered that this the haste hero of the tale), a pious and exempla- comfortable fortune had been paid to him cod, yentry clergyman, with his charming through a mistake of the person, or rather hionter (the heroine), and an attorney through a mistake of his relationship to the tales of ancient dames, or frightened children, gent of the aforesaid nobleman, and testator, and that in fact, it was all intend-touching such matters: but when I breathe the air, Friend of the Family)," which attor-ed for a half-brother, whose existence Mer- and see the grass grow under my feet, I cannot ike all other attorneys in novels, is ton has now the pleasure of discovering for ble, cunning, shrewd, and knavish- the first time in his life. We doubt, that constitute the dramatis personca; ey are set to work to prove the truth proverb, "All is not gold which The amiable son of the proud That can has, of course, fallen in love with arming daughter of the worthy cler

The first story in the book is called "Danvers;" and it seems to us to possess more of the characteristics of a Tale (properly so called), than any one in the book. It gives a very animated, bold, and true picture of an amiable and happy family, suddenly raised from competency to vast wealth; and of the disappointments, the cares, the vexation, the jealousies, the new passions and desires, produced by the cblhange. The maxim hereby illustrated, is thme at "Too much of a good thing is good fonesi nothing."

3

that few

thes and

of

gli

no

It is The d Theres.

when the world shall have gone on analyzing and philosophizing for many a century more. But we will avail ourselves of the incidental mention of this subject, to give a single passage from our author, as containing his own defence of "Martha, the Gypsey," and as affording an imperfect idea of the lively and forcible manner in which he is often wont to speculate.

It is, I find, right and judicious most carefully and publicly, to disavow a belief in supernatural visit ings; but it will be long before I become either so wise or so bold as to make any such unqualified declaration. I am not weak enough to imagine myself surrounded by spirits and phantoms, or jostling through a crowd of spectres, as I walk the streets; neither do I give credence to all the idle

these extreme vibrations are too often re-
peated. When we see a man thus continu-
ally the football of fortune, our sympathy
must needs grow fainter, and in spite of
ourselves, we often feel a lurking disposi-
tion to laugh at his mishaps. The fact is,

but feel that He who gives me power to inhale the one, or stand erect upon the other, has also the power to use, for special purposes, such means and agency as he, in his wisdom, may see fit; and which, in point of fact, are not more incomprehensible to us, than the very simplest effects which we every day witness, arising from unknown causes. Philosophers may pore, and in the might of their littleness, and the erudition of their ignorance, develope and disclose, argue and discuss; but whe

106

the sage, who sneers at the possibility of ghosts, think,-perhaps because it is now with us, flash rent asund
will explain to me the doctrine of attraction and that Summer is almost equally deserving angry voice of
gravitation, or tell me why the wind blows, why of grateful notice. Spring is the season of cloud, from hi
the tides ebb and flow, or why the light shines-ef-
fects perceptible by all men-then will I admit the promise, but the fulfilment comes with Sum- earth, as if to b
justice of his incredulity-then will I join the ranks mer; and this point of difference between with silent reve
of the incredulous. However, a truce with my the seasons I certainly regard as altogether upon the whirlw
views and reflections: proceed we to the narrative. to the advantage of Summer. I do not for-
The author tells us in his preface, that get that the world thinks, or pretends to
if encouraged by the success of this effort, think, that anticipation always promises
he shall probably furnish us with more profusely, while the actual good is a sad
works of the same sort. We have no doubt niggard in redeeming her word; but, nei-
his reception by the public will be suffi- ther do I forget, that I have all the right,
ciently flattering to secure the fulfilment of which my own experience can give, to be-
this conditional pledge; and that we shall lieve there are more instances of exception
be furnished with more "Sayings and Do-to this rule, than of conformity with it;
ings." We shall be the last to regret this, therefore I love enjoyment better than an-
for, notwithstanding the faults in the struc- ticipation,-Summer better than Spring.
ture of some of his stories to which we have "The earliest offspring of the year" comes
alluded, we look upon the author as a arrayed in a garniture of rich blossoms, of
spirited, animated, and correct writer,-as beauty as various and brilliant, as if the
a man of sense, and at the same time, one rainbow had crumbled and fallen, and sow-
of good wit,—and above all, as one who has ed itself as seed in the earth; her tresses
actually seen, studied, and learned the are wreathed with flowers of all hues and
world, especially those classes in its society forms, her breath is a mingling of odorous
which he undertakes to describe.
sweets, and her pathway over the fields is
marked by the upspringing of their love-
liest ornaments. But Summer has her
flowers too, and with them she has her
fruits; her airs move as gently, and bring
a freshness far more welcome; they sigh
through her laden trees, and play with the
fluttering petals of her full blown roses,
and bear away a perfume that is yet more
delightful, because with it there is a cool-
ness that tempers the fervour of her sun.

MISCELLANY.

SUMMER.

THE Successive changes of the year are generally regarded by periodical essayists, as themes well calculated to interest their readers; indeed, in most literary journals which do not strictly confine themselves to what are called, sometimes by a sad misnomer, reviews, such subjects recur almost as regularly as the seasons. Nor is this at all surprising; let these descants be sung as often as they may, the theme can neither be trite, nor seem to be so, if he who has chosen it, aims only at the portraiture of his own feelings, and the simple expression of those thoughts, which the changes in the world without, and the world within him, naturally excite.

The Spring is of all others the favorite theme of song; most writers of imagination or sentiment, have, in one form or another, endeavoured to paint its various beauty, and speak of the influence of peace and joy, which every heart then receives with glad welcome, if it ever opens to any emotions that do not belong to the lowest parts of our animal nature. There is indeed in this season of universal renovation, when all the beings that people earth and air, and all that is given them for food or habitations, awaken at once into life and loveliness; when the fields put on their robes of beauty, and the gentle breezes are redolent of perfume and melody and vernal freshness, and all created existence seems to sing its song of thankfulness and hope,-there comes indeed, with this season of beauty and promise to most persons, a momentary

af undanhting and shadowless peace.

But I love the Summer not for those charms only, which she has in common with the Spring; she has others which are wholly her own. It is not until the warmer months have come, and the fervours of the sun are fully disclosed, that we learn to appreciate fairly, and fully to enjoy the morning and evening coolness. A beautiful Spring day contrasts its animating glow with the coldness of the night; Winter seems to linger in the darkness, because the hours of sunshine are yet too few and feeble wholly to overcome his influence. But when Summer is established, the breath of morning only invigorates and prepares for a day of not unpleasant languor; and the renovating coolness of evening brings with it positive delight. We have few days of intense heat; but be it as hot as it will, I do not know many things more pleasant, than to lie upon the green sward, where the unmitigated ardours of the sun have not yet fallen, and listen to the cooling music of the rippling brook, and lazily watch the dancing leaves as they playfully toss the sunbeams from one to the other, and down to the still fresh grass. We have too, in Summer, those showers, than which there is nothing more beautiful or sublime. Right well do I love to see the distant clouds roll their black volumes together, and hang their gold and purple skirts around the horizon in all wild and graceful forms, as if to

We have, to b fierce and exhau of enjoyment or sal debility, if n uncomfortable en times happens th night appear to t day, and leave its days come very s they are much less me,-than those days of Spring, w curring, to shake and pinch to deat and turn one's fa than the damp sky all, almost make In short, I think t compared to a budo ful, very beautiful in petually looking to into perfection, and our fingers pricked u ing thorns; while orange-tree in full The blossoms, which woven of a snow-wr fragrance, and cluste fruit; and we gladly fume, even if it hap us with sickening int

I have rather spok that division of the s taken by descent, bu applicable here. It b England, and there ha nature. There, Winter until December, and b has begun to clothe t with living green. Th mer have fled by Se Autumn gives ample le the fruits of fields or g rent from all this, is the sons. The vegetable w universal death, quite a ber, and the frosts and begin. April hardly chains, and so long does the lap of Spring," we clothes, and all the appl quite into May. We h proverb, that "April sh flowers," but our April sionally made of snow, a ers are neither the sweete est. We have, indeed, b pure Spring; beautiful J gust, and September, are months, for they have al good and bad, which were belong to Summer. Wel

1

!

1

But go: and mine, be mine the pain;
Thy smile shall calm the boisterous main :
And when thou'rt far removed from me,
I still will think alone of thee.

Pg.

When the bright dreams of youth no more
Shall fairy prospects round me throw,
And poesy with happy tints

No longer bids the landscape glow-
When time has silvered o'er my head
And frozen youthful fancy's vein,
O may a kindly current yet

Within my heart unchilled remain!
The feelings which I cherish there,

Have long my dearest treasure been;
But fate, relentless, bids me keep
That treasure locked, that heart unseen.
Bound by the spell, it vainly beats

For one, who may not, must not know
How faithful, warm, and true a pulse
Will throb for her in weal and woe!

INTELLIGENCE.

H.

THE interests of Cambridge College are, or should be, in a good measure identified with those of literature and all intellectual education. We cannot, therefore, doubt that the public will always be eager to learn all the circumstances which directly affect these important interests; nor can we any more doubt that they whose duty it is both to conduct and protect this venerable institution, will be ever disposed to avoid even the appearance of that reserve which tends to produce jealousy and feelings of unkindness, and frankly to acquaint the public, for whose use it exists, with its actual condition, its wants, its dangers, and prospects. With no further apology, and perhaps none was needed, we proceed to state, as matter of interesting intelligence, those circumstances respecting the University which have lately occurred.

through all ages, institutions and forms suit- | ed to a gentleman ed only to the days of darkness in which strength and practis they were invented. Nothing of this sort, troversy and in writi and nothing approaching it, should be suf- cated in this little fered here. If possible, let our Alma Ma- the Report on the g ter be preserved in perpetual youth. Letency; he says that t her advance with the progress of literature advantages essentiall and of thought, aiming only to become what they would have a U the spirit of the age demands; content to ply to it a mode of di perform the uses required of her, actively of instruction, fitted and efficiently; and distinctly recollecting, rather to a large Sch that her sole business is to teach valuable his argument lies aga truth, to provide for her children a course the Presidential offic of study and of discipline, which will give thinks would necess such culture to the intellectual powers, and the dignity, the hon lay up for future use such stores of knowl- sense of responsibilit edge, as shall send them forth into the officers. The Preside world, prepared and disposed to be useful. should be "primus in Then we may indeed say to her, not only tempt to make him with filial affection, but in the spirit of among his fellows, w prophecy, "Esto perpetua." the most important a At a meeting of the Overseers, July 24, the officers of the C 1823, a Committee, of which the Hon. and imperfectly disc Judge Story was Chairman, was appointed those motives which to inquire into the state of the University, "high endeavours," w and to report thereon. A report was read It is obvious that the on the 4th of May last, and taken into con- gentleman would reco sideration at an adjourned meeting of the opposite to the princip board, in the State House in Boston, on the ed by the Committee. 1st of June. After much discussion, it was not to make an argun determined to let the whole matter lie for plan we think best; w another year. This report may be consid- our readers what plan ered expressive of the opinions of many We have seen a thi gentlemen of our community, whose opin-rectly connected with ions must have all the weight which can be in fact a Memorial to derived from their eminent intelligence and the College, claiming high standing in society; we would there- the Immediate Gover fore state briefly, what, we suppose, gentle- into that body. This men whose views this report exhibits, de- ground of legal right, sire. They would have the gradation of many arguments draw ranks, and the subordination of each to that As to the legal argum above it, made more distinct, on the ground it appears to us in the that the officers of the government would plete and satisfactory act with more efficiency, when they found find in it no flaw;themselves under a more immediate and some gentlemen, who inevitable responsibility. The President law matters we shoul should be wholly exempted from ministe- more than our own, sa rial duties—have an absolute veto upon all exhibits but one side; the boards and departments of the Univer- other side will doubtles sity, and a visitatorial authority and duty son. The question of with respect to the internal government of spects the claim adva the College; and he is to be directly re- rial, seems to us very s sponsible to the Corporation. Each Col- pal question in agitati Reasoning from the nature of the case, lege is to have its own executive board, to men who approve the p one would readily conclude that this might be formed from the Professors and Tutors, committee of the Over be so. Universities, with all their institu- and to exercise all ministerial duties with oppose them. The effe tions, fashions, and processes, are exceed- respect to the residents within that College. University is now in t ingly apt to repose too quietly, while all The classes are to be so subdivided, that gentlemen who are s things about them are in motion; they are each scholar may be very thoroughly ex- fellows of the College naturally in stereotype. Hence, some have amined; all the Collegians are to be visited from the office to which even thought that they were but as a strong in their rooms, at nine o'clock, and all are en, have no connexion anchor, which could hold the "ship of to wear some very peculiar College garb to College. The question knowledge" fast to her moorings, while it be made by the College tailor; and other there or be restored to was no part of their business or use, to act plans are suggested for the purpose of im- Immediate Government as sails and waft her onwards. This simili-proving the discipline of the University, and cided by the competent tude may have some truth in foreign coun-lessening the expenses of a College educa- tain it is, that, as things tries, but it should be utterly falsified in tion. We should have premised, that this advantages are secured our own. Past ages may have left many Report was printed but not published; it which can be derived prejudices and absurdities in Oxford and in was, however, as we believe, extensively most distinguished and the elder Cambridge, as in a sanctuary; circulated; and was answered by "Re- men in the vicinity of time may have stood still for them, or pass- I marks” nurnorting to be from “one lately | direct, and permanent i

It seems, that while there is the most general and universal acknowledgment, that the members of the Corporation, and the officers of the government fully merit the high respect and confidence which they enjoy, there exists also a pretty general belief that changes in the institutions of the College have become necessary.